Page 111 of Caught in the Axe
“Dinner?” I asked, leaning over the console to kiss her. I’d been kissing her all damn day and I didn’t want to stop.
“I’m famished,” she said, pulling at my shirt to bring me close again. It was still early, but dread was already creeping back in. We had to head back to Lovewell tonight, and keeping a lid on my feelings for her was beginning to feel impossible.
We’d spent the day in Bangor, checking off weird spots on our list. The Paul Bunyan statue, the art museum, and, of course, Stephen King’s greatest hits.
We’d blown off work for the day to have fun and forget about reality after Lila had learned that she hadn’t received a scholarship to NYU. She could still take out loans and apply for grants, but she’d gotten her hopes up that this next part of her journey wouldn’t be quite so expensive.
The sadness that had plagued her had made my chest ache, so I’d done the only thing I could think of. I’d takenher on a mini road trip to random, weird places to distract her. Bangor was the perfect spot. It wasn’t too far from Lovewell, and it was filled with plenty of strange shit to keep us occupied.
“I didn’t know you were such a big fan,” she mused. “The water tower that inspiredIt? Most people just go to his house. That’s more of a deep cut.”
I shrugged. There was no hiding my nerdiness around Lila. “I’m a big reader. Maybe I live in Boston, but I’m a Mainer, so of course I’m a fan. Never done any of this stuff, though. The cemetery was definitely the creepiest.”
“Oh yes.Pet Semataryis the scariest book ever.”
I bit back a laugh. “Really? Church the cat is nowhere near as scary as Pennywise. Ugh. Clowns.” I shivered.
My brothers had fucked with me endlessly when they’d discovered my fear of clowns.
She laughed and rubbed her hands together maniacally. “Okay, terrified of clowns; noted. I kind of want to have a Stephen King movie marathon now.”
“I’ll bring the popcorn. As long as you promise that we can watchStand By Me. That was a childhood staple for me and my brothers.”
Humming, she looked out at the restaurant on the other side of the parking lot. “Never seen it.”
“Excellent. I’ll put the wood stove on in the cabin and we can snuggle up and watch.”
She turned back to me and raised her brows. “You gonna feed me first?”
“Don’t move.” I got out and jogged around to get her door. Yes, it was cheesy, but I liked this. The small gesturesthat went along with being with someone. Caring about someone.
She was so tense and on guard in Lovewell, so I had to seize these opportunities when I could.
I held out a hand and guided her out of the car, then toward the entrance. The Timber Kitchen was fancy by Northern Maine standards only, and its website promised many gluten-free options, so it was the best I was going to do. Finn had mentioned it once, and I’d filed the name away for future use. I’d love to pull out all the stops, and I would, if I thought it would impress her. At this point, I was so desperate to take her on an actual date that even the Wendy’s in Heartsborough was looking pretty good right now, and in comparison, this was a three-star Michelin restaurant.
She took my arm and buried her face in my shoulder. “This has been an amazing day.”
Inside, the hostess seated us and placed menus in front of us. The restaurant had an industrial vibe and balanced the exposed ductwork with details that were specific to Maine. There was wood everywhere, mason jar water glasses, and of course, a moose head mounted over the fieldstone fireplace. Poor bastard.
Across from me, lit by candlelight, Lila glowed. She looked so at peace. I hated sneaking around, but moments like this made the secrecy worth it.
I slid my hand over the table and squeezed hers.
“I have a new appreciation for this state. You’ve forced me to admit how great parts of it are,” I admitted.
She laughed. “I think you mean how weird parts of it are. And we’re just getting started.”
We kept our conversation light, avoiding any talk of what would happen when the sale closed in a couple of weeks. I was still in denial. I’d already spent way more time here than I could afford to. Enzo needed me back weeks ago, and I was barely sleeping keeping up with the workload.
But this right here. These moments with Lila made all my worries seem unimportant.
Once we’d placed our orders, she headed to the restroom. While I had a minute to myself, I sat back, sipping my beer and taking the place in. It was nice. As long as the food was decent, I’d definitely bring her back.
The front doors were oversized, with large wrought-iron handles. They’d clearly been salvaged from an old barn. One swung open easily, and a group of people entered. I was pulled from my perusal when I was met with a familiar face.
It was a face I knew almost as well as my own.
My mother’s.
