“These people are far too trusting,” I grumble as I snatch the key and open the door. “You won’t fit.” Still, I leave the door open in case he walks through and joins me.
“On that we both agree.” With a grunt, he spills into the bare living room. Absolutely nothing lines the walls and fresh paint lingers in the air. To the right is a little kitchen, and a hallway splits the two sides of the house in half.
I rub my fingers against the granite countertops and gray cabinets, then the island where little stools spin when I touch them.
“It’s cute, right?” Robin flicks on a switch, shutting the door and taking off his turkey suit.
“It is,” I agree with a sigh as I wander down the hall. A freshly painted door leads into a smaller bedroom that could be an office or storage room. Across the hall is a brand-new bathroom with white and green tile. At the back of the cottage is a bedroom that runs the width of the house, with a sliding glass door that leads out to a small yard and then the creek beyond.
“Good.” Robin comes up beside me. “Because it’s mine.”
I freeze, not willing to move as I stare at the rushing creek, then beyond to what must be a farm. “Robin,” I whisper.
“Don’t act like you’re surprised.”
“I’m not.” I hand the key back to him and toss the head into a corner of the room where boxes sit. “You brought boxes?”
“Yep.” He pops the P. “Our pods arrive next week.” He smiles as though he’s far too proud of himself. He knew before he even left—he knew, and he planned.
I look around, trying to see what he sees and feel what he feels. Robin easily throws himself into everything he does. Damn the consequences.
“It took me over a year to plan the move to Maine.” I turn around, seeing my brother for the first time in years. His stance is casual as he leans against the wall, fiddling with the switch before he flicks the light on. “Yet you just show up and shake everything up.”
“Why can’t you see what I see?”
“Because if I allow myself to feel again, I’ll only get hurt.”
“Wren.” He grinds his jaw and clenches his hands, refusing to run to me, but I know his words will be almost as harsh. “Call him.”
“Who?”
“Arlo.”
“And say what?” I throw my hands up in the air.
“Ask for that third date.”
“Why is everyone privy to our relationship?” Or lack thereof.
“You don’t see what we see.”
“What, Robin? What do you see?”
“A woman who is falling in love with a man and holding herself back for no reason at all.” Robin says the words without a hint of shame.
“So you move to a town I end up stranded in for what, Robin?”
“I told you.”
“I’m not buying it.”
“Maybe,” he pushes off the wall, his nostrils flaring for a moment. “Just maybe I want to find a home too.”
“Robin, I thought you loved Maine.”
“I love my family more, and when you realize you aren’t going anywhere, I’ll be here for Sunday dinners and every single holiday. I’ll watch Lark when you need me to, and maybe I’ll find a solid future for myself where the demons of my past no longer haunt me.”
“Robin.”
