Page 101 of Barefoot Lake

The women hug, and we’re off. Alice had taken off her sweater before getting her tattoo and has now draped it over her left arm. I drop my coat over Alice’s shoulders, so she isn’t cold while we walk to the far back of the parking lot, where I left the Trans Am all by itself. She shifts the sweater as she’s getting in the car, but it’s already dark out, and I don’t even get a glimpse of the ink on her arm.

Alice laughs at my obvious frustration.

“Patience, Jake,” she whispers once I’m in the car. It’s only a few minutes before I’m driving between the trees to get to our houses.

“Park it in front of your garage,” Alice says, pointing to the darkened alcove.

I catch the mischievous look on her face and do as I’m told. Alice reaches up to click on the interior light and uncovers her arm. Through the transparent bandage, I can clearly see three leaves that look like they’re carried on the wind, wrapping around her delicate wrist. I remember sitting on Alice’s back patio, watching brightly-colored leaves falling from the trees and into the lake, and I see those leaves inked into her skin, with brilliant splashes of orange, yellow, and red.

Alice lets me silently examine her arm, carefully turning it over to see the third leaf curling over the inside of her forearm. I look up to find her watching me.

“Barefoot Lake feels more like home than any other place I’ve ever been,” she explains, still speaking softly.

“I’ve spoken with the head of the English department at the university, and she’s agreed to allow me to work primarily remotely for the spring semester. I only need to go down to Boston for the five weeks when I have in-person classes. She tried to convince me to stay but was finally understanding when I told her point blank that I do not want what she can offer me.”

She takes a deep breath and continues.

“I’ve also spoken with William’s doctors, and they feel confident it would not be too disruptive to move him to a facility closer to Wilcox Grove. They’re even familiar with a few of the facilities you found and have made some calls to begin the transfer process to the one they believe will be the best fit for his circumstances.”

I’m a reasonably intelligent adult human. I hear the words Alice is saying and understand what each one means, but I’m not quite letting myself believe the conclusion.

That is, until Alice says, “I’m staying in Wilcox Grove. I want to be here, I want to be with you, and in the fall, I want to be back in a classroom teaching full-time. I’ll need to work hard, but I’m going to convince somebody that they need me in their English department.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. It’s only been a week, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for her answer. Maybe I’ve just been waiting for her.

“You’re staying?” I ask, just to be sure.

“I’m staying.”

I slide my hand up her arm and cup her cheek. I lean forward and press my lips to hers, breathing in deeply through my nose, until her cinnamon apple scent consumes me.

Alice places her hand on my chest and presses further into me. My hand slides behind her head and my fingers lace with her hair. Her hand clenches, fingers twisting in the fabric of my top.

I need her.

As if she can hear my thoughts, Alice breaks the kiss, twisting and sliding over the center console. She’s in my lap, pressed close to me and crouching low so she doesn’t hit her head on the ceiling.

I look up at her and find that mischievous look back on her face. She reaches between my seat and the door, and I suddenly lurch backward as the seat lies flat. She reaches up and flicks off the interior light, plunging us into darkness.

“I think it’s ‘later’ now, Jake.”

CHAPTER 39

Alice

For a moment, there’s only darkness, but as my vision adjusts, I see Jake looking up at me with intrigue.

“In the car?” he asks.

I nod.

“Outside?”

I nod again.

I’m vanilla, always have been, so this little change of scenery feels thrilling. I don’t care how impractical car sex is. I want Jake now.

He slides his fingers up my bare arms, the coat he’d draped over me discarded in the passenger seat. Heat still blasts from the air vents behind me, but my skin erupts in goosebumps. I press my palms into his shoulders for leverage and purposefully grind my hips against his, telling him I’m in charge.