I get lost in his profile, reveling in the chance to study him when he can’t see me staring. He’s almost as captivating a view as the nature surrounding us.
Possibly more.
Eventually, we resume our gradual trek through the forest. We spot dozens of birds from eighteen different species, none of them lifers for me.
But I don’t care.
Because I’m full of warmth and happiness.
And for this brief moment in time, I almost feelwhole.
Near the lake, we catch sight of a gorgeous red-bellied woodpecker. I adjust the setting, zooming in for a better look. “Oh, there’s a female with him.” My feet bounce as my excitement grows.
Keeping my eyes on the happy bird couple, I’m hit with another wave of joy. Through a breathy sigh of contentment, I confess, “Ilovethis. Always have.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Reed whispers.
Surprised by his statement, I lower the binoculars to peek at him. But he’s not looking at the woodpecker.
He’s looking directly at me.
My heart skips a beat, and I struggle to get a full breath.
Blinking, he jerks his gaze away and stammers, “Be-being outside, I mean. Having a quiet day off.”
I catch a bob in his throat before averting my eyes. “I figured that’s what you meant.”
When the tension threatens to choke me, I respond the only way I know how. “Don’t you find it odd that someone is out there, randomly putting needles in haystacks? We need to get to the bottom of this to save the horses.”
He gives me a pity laugh. “Here we go again.” Taking my hand, he leads me toward the end of the boardwalk.
Since the awkwardness refuses to dissipate fully, I pile on the weirdness. “Did I tell you my cat’s name? It’s dog. What did you name yours?”
“Neither of us has cats, Lila.”
“That’s a weirder name than mine.” I shrug, then drop another gem. “Do you think beavers know what they’re named after?”
In the corner of my eye, I see his grin slowly overtaking his face. “Are we doing this?”
My mouth wriggles as I fight a smile while humming. “Leedle, leedle, leedle, loooo.”
He finally joins my nonsense buffoonery. “Scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?”
In a showy booming voice, I announce, “Hi. Billy Mays here.”
Reed counters quickly. “Deez nuts.”
My chest trembles with repressed laughter. “Squidward’s nose looks like a limp penis. I just needed someone else to know that.”
“That’s not very cash money of you. Especially in this economy.”
I’ve done this stupid random phrase thing for most of my life. In all those years, Reed’s the only one who will indulge me. And then join in. More than likely, it’s why I first fell for him.
We all need someone to match our freak, right?
Too bad this is only a charade we’re playing.
TWENTY-FIVE
