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If you’d asked me at the beginning of this trip if I saw this being how we would all end up, I would have definitely said no. It was just supposed to be something simple, the three of us going to Ares’ home town for a festival. Meeting Brynn, ending up together the way we were, all of that came out of nowhere.

It’s definitely not the first time I’ve sat down next to a beautiful woman on a plane. It’s not even the first time I’ve ended up having sex either on the plane or at the airport later. Sometimes I’ve exchanged numbers with the woman and hooked up a few more times over the course of our stays, but it was just a pleasant distraction from the grind of travel.

It was definitely so much more than that with Brynn, and not just because she turned out to be the girl Ares had been brooding about for eight years.

We all knew what we were getting into upfront, or at least we all thought we did. It was supposed to be something simple, something fun. Honestly, this would be a convenient way to end things. It’s an easy off ramp. Brynn gave us all the out we needed to bring this to a close, and usually that’s my whole MO. Get in, get out, get on with my life.

I like to keep things casual, seeking out companionship in that way when I need it, and leaving it behind when it’s served its purpose. I know I can’t do a long term relationship. I work too much for that. I’m married to my work. My new restaurant is going to take up so much of my time, and I don’t have time for someone who would want me to give up some of my focus to her. I’d resent her for not understanding what’s more important to me, and she’d resent me for not making her a priority.

Except… with Brynn, I didn’t feel like she was demanding my time. It felt like I wanted to give her all of the time I could. All of the attention I could. Instead of pulling me away from what I cared about, it felt like she became what I cared about.

I’ve never felt that with a fling before. It’s never been this easy with any of the other women I’ve been with.

I make it into town before I really realize it, lost in my own head. I don’t look up until I hear someone calling my name from across the street.

“Your name is Tate, right?” an older woman is saying, hands on her hips.

I frown before I recognize her as Birdie, the woman we met on our first day at the festival. She smiles at me, beckoning me across the street to what must be her pottery studio.

“Sorry,” I say. “Yes, I’m Tate. I was lost in my head for a minute there.”

“Not a problem,” she replies with a smile.

“What can I do for you, Birdie?”

“I was hoping a strapping young man like yourself wouldn’t mind helping an old woman move some furniture around for a while. Just a couple of things.”

I peer into her studio through the large windows at the front. It’s decorated for Christmas, but in pretty much the opposite way of Ares’ parents’ house. There’s no color scheme or painstaking uniformity here. Half of the shop is done up in colorful lights, the other half in white ones. There’s a tree in the corner that’s too tall for the space, so it’s bent at the very top, with a star dangling from the tip. The tree itself is weighed down with what must be handmade ornaments, some of them lit up from the inside with electric tea lights.

She’s already pushed a couple of couches into the center of the room, and there’s a stack of chairs waiting too.

“I’m reorganizing,” she explains, even though I didn’t ask. “I like to get it done before the new year. Fresh start, you know?”

“Sure,” I say. And I don’t have anything better to do right now, so I agree to help her.

Birdie grins, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’re a good lad,” she says. “If I were a Christmas angel in disguise, you would definitely be passing my test.”

I laugh at that, shaking my head. “How do I know you’re not one?”

“Oh, I’m too foul mouthed for all that. I’m just an old lady whose back isn’t what it used to be.”

“I’m not sure I believe that.” I let her lead me inside the studio and start moving things while she stands back and tells me where to put them. ‘Just a couple of things’ quickly turns out to be the understatement of the year, but I just put my back into it, grateful for the distraction from everything going on in my head.

Not that I stop thinking about it entirely. It’s still there, popping up whenever I stop moving for long enough for the thoughts to catch back up. I push couches and put out chairs, and then pick the chairs back up to rearrange them again.

After an hour or so of that, Birdie makes me a cup of tea and we sit on one of the couches to take a break.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying so,” she begins. “But you seem a little dimmer around the eyes than you did when we first met. I know the holidays can bring out the woes in some people.”

I shrug a shoulder. “It feels like I was a different person when we met,” I tell her. “Even if it was just a few days ago.”

She nods. “I heard the rumors, of course. Catherine Peters has the biggest fucking mouth in town. Anyone with any sense would have thought maybe that was something to keep close to the chest and not spread around like the clap.”

I snort at that, amused in spite of myself. “From what I hear, small towns are breeding grounds for rumors.”

Birdie barks a laugh. “You can say that again. But I’ve never put much stock in rumors. If I didn’t see it myself, and it’s none of my business, I don’t know why I would care.” She eyes me over the rim of her mug. “I’ve also never put much stock in that stupid family rivalry between the Thorntons and the Carters. They may be founding families, but there’s a lot of us here now, living our lives and not giving a single shit what they’re doing to one up each other. All that to say, if something is going on, I want to hear about it from the source. So if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’ve heard I’m good at listening.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m okay.”