I blink.
She pulls on her blouse. My eyes linger there before I look down at my own ragged-out, charcoal t-shirt.
“Oh.” I found it in my bike’s seat bag the other day and forgot I pulled it on today. I nod. “Big fan.” A surge of prickling heat moves through my body, and I drag my gaze around the room, looking for blue. I latch onto the blue specs in the wallpaper, then tell myself that’s all I need, I’m stronger than this.
I step over to the counter. I can feel the heat of the girl’s gaze. I feel her eyes on my left hand, but know for sure she’s not gawking at my sidelined fingers; I don’t think she’s even noticed they don’t bend. She’s checking for a ring.
I give her a smile I hope says taken. When my mouth opens, I hear myself say, “I need something for my fiancé.”
I watch the girl’s eyes comb my face and realize my eyes are wide. My fiancé. “Flowers, and…” I glance around the little gift shop. “I don’t know what else you have, but something with a squirrel or pig?”
The girl smiles.
I smile back.
Fuck, it sounds right. Fiancé. My heart starts hammering again. I take a deep breath and watch as the girl goes over to a shelf.
“I’ve got these little coins… They’re not real coins, of course. More like paper weights.” She smiles over her shoulder. “One has a little squirrel on it. As for pigs, I’ve got a pig, but it’s attached to a bird bath.”
She walks across the room and points to a shallow bowl atop a two-feet-tall cement stem. In the middle, there’s a pig with wings.
She shrugs. “Not sure if you want something that big.”
The pig has the most adorable smile on its face, and a little curly tail. I grin. “I’ll take both. And some flowers. Something with gardenias?”
“That’s more of a bush. But our florist could maybe work them into something. What about white roses with them? Maybe some eucalyptus, too?” I squint, trying to picture it. “Yeah, sure.”
Oh, shit. I laugh. “I’ve gotta go somewhere.” To get that bird bath home, I’ll need something bigger than a motorcycle. “I’ll be back in an hour, maybe two?”
“Of course.”
I pay, slip the little squirrel token into my pocket, and laugh as I walk to my bike.
I pull back up an hour and a half later in a dark charcoal Jeep Grand Cherokee. It’s a 2015, with 12,000 miles. The dealer said it was used as a rental car, but it still smells new. I smile as I walk back in to get the flowers and the bird bath. I texted Gwen, but she hasn’t replied, so I played a game of how fast can I buy a car. It helped having the full sticker price in my bank account, so all I had to do was call the bank and let them know the debit card was going to take a hit. I was out of there in less than an hour.
The arrangement loo
ks really good. I take the bird bath, in two pieces, to the Jeep, and open the console between the two front seats and put the flower vase in there. Then I text Doc, who lives in an apartment across the street from his office, and ask him to keep an eye on my bike for the next few hours.
I drive to Gwen’s house feeling victorious and…happy. Strange feeling, that. I smirk when I think of how few nights I’ve spent in my own house. Maybe we should move the party there. Or not…
I like her house. It’s small, but in a good way. We fill up the space. After years of combat, any open space feels like a threat.
As I turn off the highway onto Blue Moon Road, I feel my phone buzz. Dove. I let it ring so he won’t be offended by the fuck you button, but I don’t answer. I just want to see Gwen. I’ll call D. later. Sometime soon, we need to really talk. I think if I tell him all of it, I can make him understand. I need him to. I need Dove’s blessing. Even Blue’s—one day. They’re my brothers. Without Breck…
I swallow, tossing my phone into the passenger’s seat as the Jeep climbs Gwenna’s driveway.
I smile as I park behind the garage, anticipating her reaction to the new wheels—and the gifts. She’s going to be surprised.
I wonder what she’s been doing. She must be really caught up in bear-keeping, because I haven’t heard from her.
I slip my keys into my pocket, turning around for a second, walking backward as I smile at my new ride. The garage is shut, so I half-jog to the porch and try the front door. Locked. I feel a tug low in my stomach.
So she’s with the bears. That’s okay. I don’t want to go in, though, so I should call her. I start back to the car and something glints in the grass. My heart clenches. I freeze in place, my diaphragm locked up, waiting for flames, a burst of sound, but whatever it is just shines in the sunlight.
You’re here, not there… New person, Barrett.
I take a slow breath and reach down for what I now see is a key. It must have fallen off Pig’s key ring. I turn it over. Looks like her house key. I slip it in my pocket, and for reasons I can’t articulate, even in my own mind, I turn toward the enclosure. I can jump up on the damn thing and peek inside without disturbing Bearville. I just want to see her—now.