Page 76 of Townshipped
I look over to see Em’s green eyes filled with tender compassion. Her thumb brushes my hand with careful strokes. How have I ever lived without Em by my side, and how will I live when she has to go?
26
“EM”
“I’m not sure what funerals are usually like,” I whisper to Aiden as we mingle on the lawn surrounding the burial plot. “But I’m guessing that one was unusual.”
He chuckles. “Very.”
It’s good to see him smile after almost twenty-four hours of sheer stress. Maybe things will improve from here, now that the funeral is behind us.
Aiden guides me toward his aunt and uncle who are standing with other family members chatting as we wait for the cavalcade of cars, including the hearse, to pull in and find parking near the gravesite. Ty and Paisley huddle together a few feet away from their grandparents, talking in hushed voices to one another.
Aiden bends down and then squats in front of his niece and nephew. “Hey, guys. I want you to meet my houseguest, Em. She’s staying with me for a little while in my downstairs guest bedroom, so I wanted you to meet her. Okay?”
Houseguest.
It’s what I am, of course. What did I expect him to introduce me as, his soulmate?
“Hi,” I say with a shy wave.
They mimic my reserved stance and each return a timid wave of their own.
“Aiden and I recently rescued a dog,” I say, hoping the topic gives us some common ground, or at least something to talk about.
“A dog?” Paisley says. Her brown eyes light up with the first sign of animation I’ve seen from her since we walked in the chapel.
“Yep,” I say. “His name is Granger.”
I squat down beside Aiden, feeling the pull in my thighs and wondering how he’s managed to hold this stance for more than five seconds. He’s built like a machine, that’s how. Have you seen those thighs? Why yes, yes I have.
I manage not to topple over, shifting my focus onto the two kids. Granger may be the bridge I need to bond with them, even a little. I know we shouldn’t bond-bond, but I don’t want them feeling more awkward than they naturally will.
And, Jillian Michaels, hello. My thighs are shouting now. No more inner thoughts. I need to make a tenuous emotional connection with two grieving children and stand up, asap.
“When Granger came to us, he was covered in mud,” I tell them. “He looked black and brown, but after his bath, it turns out he’s white and tan. We asked the vet and other local farmers if he has a home. He doesn’t seem to have any other owners, so your uncle Aiden is keeping him.”
“Can we see him?” Ty asks.
I smile at Aiden.
The smile Aiden gives me in return threatens to topple me. Or maybe it’s my quaking quads making me likely to land on my backside any moment.
“You definitely can see him,” Aiden says. “After we get in my truck to drive back to my farm. It’s a long drive. But we’ll stop for a meal on the way and you can take turns picking music on the trip. Sound good?”
“You have a farm?” Paisley asks in a quiet voice.
“I do. And I have two upstairs bedrooms—one ready for each of you. I don’t have horses or cows yet. But I have a crazy llama and a bunch of goats. Some of the goats are about to have babies in a week or so.”
“Baby goats!” Ty shouts loudly enough for several heads to swivel in our direction.
And that’s all she wrote, folks. My legs officially need to extend. But I can’t quite gather the muscle strength to stand. I look at Aiden, grasp his shoulder and hope my facial expression says something like,Help me!instead ofTimber!
Aiden chuckles, wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me up as though it’s nothing. I lightly brush my hands down my thighs as Ty chatters to his sister about some baby goats he saw on YouTube at their grandma’s house.
Aiden leans in so that his breath feathers across my neck and the warmth of his exhale tickles my ear. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” I say, stuffing down the urge to say,could you breathe on my neck just one more time?The tingles from his nearness still linger on my skin causing residual goose bumps to rise along my shoulders and down my torso.
