Page 26 of Axe Backwards
He stopped walking abruptly, a smile splitting his face. “Deal.”
He held his hand out, and I took it. Ignoring the way my heart sped up when his skin made contact with mine.
Chapter 8
Victoria
“Imade so much. Take more.”
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to force me.” I added another hunk of eggplant parm to my plate. It smelled so damn good. There was no way I wouldn’t come back for seconds.
Alice was always feeding us, which made her one of my favorite people. The woman was an excellent cook. I was not, so I rarely ate as well as I did when she was the one putting on a meal.
Her home was a big timber-style lodge up on the mountain. Her husband, Henri, had built it years ago as some kind of man cave fortress, but Alice had added small touches here and there, making it feel like the inside of a magazine.
The house was almost as beautiful as the love the two of them had for one another.
No one deserved that kind of devotion more than she did.
Her two children were incredible, rounding out the most inspiring kind of family unit.
Being here strengthened my resolve. When I had my own home, when I’d figured myself out career-wise and financially, Iwould follow her example. For so long, I’d wanted to foster, and each time I was with Alice, that longing only grew.
Graham had scoffed at the idea. But every day I became more convinced that it was the right path for me. Maybe my journey to parenthood wouldn’t be conventional, but I was ready to explore the possibilities. Finances were a consideration and my primary stressor right now. But I’d deal with that eventually.
Making friends in one’s thirties wasn’t for the faint of heart. By this time in their lives, most people were entrenched and settled. In the city, I’d never found my people.
But within weeks of returning to Lovewell, I had been adopted by Alice and Becca. It had started with an appointment for a haircut. I walked in needing a trim and left with dinner plans.
Now the three of us got together regularly—usually at Alice’s house—to check in, have dinner, and decompress.
We were an unlikely trio. The newlywed, the widow, and the divorcée. All of whom had come to Lovewell for different reasons.
Alice had come to help revive a failing school and make some big changes in her life.
After her husband died, Becca had moved to his hometown, looking to provide stability and healing for her young daughter.
I’d returned because I had nowhere else to go. Aunt Lou was here, and Lovewell was the only place that had ever truly felt like home.
“When are you coming in? Your roots are making me twitchy,” Becca groused, slicing a loaf of bread at the kitchen island.
I shrugged.
“Hair that gorgeous needs care.”
Head tipped to one side, I ran my fingers through the end of my ponytail.
Graham thought long hair was juvenile. While we were married, I maintained a sharp, angular bob. With blond highlights, of course, because, according to him, the color was sophisticated and sexy.
But now, I’d let my hair grow wild and free. It was more wavy than curly, and a little frizzy. It did what it wanted when it wanted.
Most days, it wanted a ponytail.
Alice was curvy with blond hair and deep green eyes. She had the kind of all-American apple-cheeked beauty that stopped people in their tracks.
Becca was tall and lean with an edgy vibe. Her hair was cut in a trendy short style and she had several tattoos. She was part soccer mom and part badass.
And then there was me. Medium height, medium build, frizzy hair, and a can-do attitude.
