Pat grabbed a box and dropped it into the basket. “I don’t think it will get that far.”
“Well, if it does, I’m happy for you.”
He blew out another breath. He was a mess. And as he unloaded the basket full of snacks, personal products, and condoms onto the checkout counter he was pretty sure the clerk thought he was high and up to no good.
“About today, I might have to—”
“Take as much time as you need. Deal with this.”
He swiped his debit card and paid. “I feel like the worst best man ever.”
“I think you’re better than you realize. Just get to the alter on time and we’re cool. Good luck with Julie.”
“Thanks.” He ended the call and grabbed his bags.
While Pat was in the pharmacy, Julie lowered the visor, doing a quick inspection of her hair and what was left of her makeup. She rummaged through her purse for some gloss and a comb, only to come up short when she found her cellphone with nine-teen missed calls, two from Jo and the rest from Lance.
She sent her sister a quick text, telling her she was alive but needed time away from everything to think, then she shut off her phone. Pat returned with two bags and set them on the back seat.
She glanced at the bags, wondering what he bought when her eyes landed on a small box pressing against the transparent plastic. Condoms.
Her heart picked up pace as he headed back toward the mountains. “Where are we going?”
“Remember the cabin?”
“The little one in the woods we used to play at when we visited your cousin, Sheilagh?”
“Yeah.”
She remembered. It was where Pat first told her he wanted to be a doctor. They had been swimming in the creek—something they weren’t supposed to do without an adult—and she’d slipped on a mossy rock and cut her knee wide open.
Terrified that she might need stitches, they ran to the cabin hoping to find a first aid kit. Jo and Sheilagh played lookout while Pat patched up her knee. She still had the scar and her finger traced over the silver mark with fond nostalgia. Pat always took care of her when she needed it.
It took a while to get up the mountain, as her car was not made for off-road travel, and the trails leading up to the cabin were pocked with divots and puddles. When they finally reached the secluded hunting shack, it didn’t quite match her memory.
The cabin looked smaller than she remembered. And nicer. “Someone’s been here.” There were two wooden rocking chairs on the small porch that looked freshly painted.
Pat carried the bags and found a hidden key above the door. Someone had definitely been using the cabin. The old futon cot had been replaced with a large bed, and the windows, which used to be covered with army green cloth, now had curtains.
“Someone’s been glamping,” she said, opening the cabinets and finding them fully supplied with wine, canned food, dishes, and utensils. The fireplace was cleaned out and set with fresh logs and a bundle of twigs and cinnamon.
Pat followed her stare. “That’s Tristan’s trick. He and Luke must come here once in a while. The man loves burning spices on an open fire.”
She smiled, thinking it completely romantic that they’d turned this little abandoned hideaway into some sort of love nest. “Will they be upset if we use it?”
“No, it belongs to all of us.” He put the bags on the wooden table, and they stood in awkward silence.
“I’m gonna freshen up.” She collected the toothbrush and toothpaste and disappeared in the small bathroom. When she returned, the items from the pharmacy were out of sight, and he was heating up a frying pan at the stove.
“What are you making?” she stood close to him, tempted to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head on his back but unsure if that would be welcome.
“Bacon and eggs. I hope that’s okay. They didn’t have a lot of options at the store.”
“Can I help?”
“Want to figure out the coffee pot?”
“Sure.”
It was an old enamel percolator. While Pat took a moment to clean up, she packed the basket with grounds and hung it over from the spit in the fireplace. “This is so pretty it seems a shame to light it.”
He snuck up behind her, surprising her by slipping his arms around her, much the way she’d wanted to slip her arms around him. “I want to make love to you in front of that fire, so it has to be done.”
His directness shocked and excited her. She reached for the box of matches on the mantle and struck one, tossing it onto the arranged logs.
They watched its underwhelming landing and both laughed when it went out.
“Let me try.” He bent to light the kindling and set the four corners of the arranged logs on fire. The flames caught and started to burn, the scent of cinnamon, smoke, and coffee mingling in the air.