“I wasn’t aware that plants have feelings.”
“I’m sure all the ones I’ve killed off do.” Cherry laughs. “I have a bit of a black thumb when it comes to houseplants. Better with those growing outside of their own accord.”
“Mental note not to send you flowers.”
“Are you planning to send me flowers?”
“Not anymore. I don’t want to be indicted on charges of accessory to murder.”
Cherry shakes with laughter. Again, my face hurts.
“What do your parents do?” I ask.
“Um, my parents are gone,” Cherry says hesitantly.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” Way to go, Nate.
“It’s all right. I never knew them. I was raised by my Aunt Ginny. She was the only parent I ever knew. She ran an antique store right across the street from our house, but she passed away a few months ago. It’s just me now.”
“That’s hard.” I want to reach over and take her hand, but I don’t. “My mother died shortly after I was born. Even when you never know them, you feel the loss.”
“Yeah, you do.” Cherry looks at me for a long moment, her gaze intense. “Aunt Ginny was great, and I’m glad she raised me, but…well, I guess I’m feeling the loss of my parents even more now that she’s gone.”
“I can understand that.” I debate saying something about Micha but ultimately decide to change the somber subject to something a little lighter. “How did you end up in Cascade Falls? Did you leave your hometown just to look for work?”
“Partially,” she says but doesn’t elaborate much. “Trying to find myself, I suppose.”
She’s holding something back. I’m sure of it. As opposed to asking, I just look at her pointedly until she continues on her own.
“My aunt raised me, but I never knew where I came from exactly. After she died, I found out I was born here, in Cascade Falls. I came here looking for my birth parents.”
Chapter 7—Questions
I can’t believe I said that. Only I could go from solely confiding in my plant to telling some random guy in a bar the most personal part of my life.
Some guy. Some completely, ridiculously gorgeous guy. Every time our eyes meet, I can feel it down to my toes. I can barely look away from him, but I didn’t plan on telling him anything about this.
The search for my birth parents was something I’d kept to myself. I didn’t want Aunt Ginny’s friends finding out and accusing me of disrespecting her memory, so I told no one I was leaving Accident and moving here to look into my past. They wouldn’t understand.
“I thought you said your parents were dead,” Nate says slowly.
The tone of the conversation has changed from lighthearted and fun to something much more solemn, and I’m not sure I want to head in this direction, but I can’t seem to help myself. Maybe it’s the martinis talking as much as it is looking into those eyes and wanting to bare my soul.
“An automatic response,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s just what I always thought, and I guess I don’t really know for sure, do I?”
“Do you have names?” he asks.
“No.” I glance up at him, and I swear I can see relief in his eyes though I have no idea why. “It’s kind of a long story, I suppose.”
I grab my drink, staring into the glass and feeling pensive. I realize I’m chewing on my lip and make myself stop.
“I’m not trying to pry,” Nate says. He chuckles softly. “Well, yes, I am. I am prying. I want to know more about you.”
I stop myself from asking why. When he first walked over and convinced me to stay, I assumed it was just being nice to make up for Aaron the douchebag, but that level of nice had been reached hours ago. I have no idea what’s happening now; I only know that I don’t want it to end, so I keep it going.
“I told you I was raised by my aunt, right?”
“Yes.” He finishes his bourbon and places the empty glass on the bar. Jude walks over without a word and refills it, and I realize he’s been doing the same to my drinks.