“I thought you said he was almost here?” I asked and tilted my head back so I could stare up into his face.
Aspen’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he shrugged. “It’s Fallon. He’s probably driving too damned slow because he’s afraid of hurting that car of his.”
“The Spyder? I love that car.”
He grunted like I’d said something ridiculous, but there was a small smile twisting the corner of his lips. Before I had time to ask if we could go in and wait right on the other side of the door so we didn’t have to freeze to death, a shiny silver car rounded the bend in the pine-lined drive.
“There he is!” I said, feeling far more excited than I would have thought. “I miss everyone when we’re not at home, not that I don’t love this, but—”
“I know,” Aspen murmured, just loud enough to be heard.
Fallon parked the car next to a nice red Audi in the small lot nearby and hopped out almost before the engine shut off. Aspen and I walked off the porch to meet him in the snow-dusted yard, and I was nearly knocked off my feet when he flung his arms around both of us. Laughing, I hugged him, burying my face against his soft, sweet-smelling hair, and Aspen dragged him closer to us.
“Rowen said to give you this,” Fallon said, leaning back, and I could tell by his smirk it was going to be something dirty, but he only pecked my lips.
“Yes, that seems like him.”
“And Cillian said to give you this.” He squeezed my ass hard enough I thought maybe I’d have fingerprints later.
I chuckled. “Yes, that seems like him, too.”
Fallon glanced up at Aspen and appeared to be waiting for something, but Aspen stared off into the distance not looking at him, and I felt terrible as Fallon’s face fell.
I elbowed Aspen.
He glared at me and drew in a sharp breath before he snagged Fallon’s chin, much the same way he liked to do with me.
My insides danced with happiness as Aspen laid a small, sweet kiss on Fallon’s lips. “Glad you could drive out,” he said gruffly, as if he hadn’t been the one to invite him, which I knew he had.
Fallon backed off, rubbing his hands over his arms. He was in a thin leather coat, which would have been fine in the city where people tended to dart from a warm car or bus to a building, or rush only a few blocks to get somewhere, but wasn’t good for the weather here on the Maine coast. Snow began to dance down around us, and he laughed, cocking his head to the side.
“It is so creepy and quiet out here. Like a Stephen King novel.”
Humming, I shrugged. “It’s nice. I like it. It lets me hear my own thoughts better.”
Fallon’s brow wrinkled and he focused on the pine trees nearby as if he wasn’t able to look Aspen directly in the eyes. “It is pretty.”
“You’re afraid,” Aspen said, and there was a note of challenge in his words.
“No!” Fallon huffed, and I had to laugh when he crossed his arms. I felt like I’d just missed some conversation with the way they were acting. “It’s just different is all. This nature stuff.” He nodded toward the trees.
Aspen studied him and appeared to grow more confident. “I like it. I always have to put on a show in the city. Out here no one cares how I act.” Aspen reached over and dislodged Fallon’s hand from where he was hugging himself to hold it.
I wanted to ask what was going on between them so bad but managed to talk myself out of it. It seemed like maybe they didn’t know, and I didn’t want to butt in more than necessary.
“I’m cold and there’s a fireplace inside,” I piped up, and they both smiled at me.
“Yeah, let’s go in. Auntie Lisa makes a bold hot chocolate with enough cinnamon whiskey to put down an elephant.”
Fallon snorted but seemed amused. “I need real food first. Otherwise it sounds good.”
Aspen turned with one arm over my shoulders and slid the other over Fallon’s to lead us toward the front door. “I’ve got you. No worries.”
“Do you know anything about the history of chocolate production? It’s sad because it’s tied up with colonization, but quite interesting. The Olmec were considered to be the first to utilize chocolate during their rituals, though I think there is a bit of debate about that.”
Fallon startled. “Really? I thought Belgians invented it or something, because everyone talks about Belgian chocolate.”
I got the excited tingles that always took me over when I knew something someone else didn’t and got a chance to share.
