Page 20 of Must Love Bees
My thoughts exactly. Charlie frowned.
“No. But he does love a good tummy rub.” Astrid filled the water bowl. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll get the door.” Halley ran ahead, pulling the door open. “Oh, look. They’re so cute.”
“Wait. I’m coming, too.” Nova jumped from her chair and ran after them, the front door closing with a thud.
Charlie didn’t move. He sat, staring at the brightly painted cuckoo clock on the wall, enjoying the quiet. Quiet was a rare thing. His girls were joyfully loud—a constant stream of conversation and laughter. Thankfully, they didn’t go at each other the way his sisters did. Sure, they’d argue from time to time, but it was nothing like the screaming and cut downs his sisters had delighted in hurling at one another over the course of any given day.
He didn’t want to think about his childhood or his sisters. He should be grateful they had no interest in coming to Honey or the reading of Aunt Rebecca’s will. At least, so far. They’d both agreed he’d been the only one that had a relationship with their aunt so he could handle it. But his sisters were known to change their minds—especially when there was money involved. And, according to the property assessor’s estimate, this property was worth far more than he could have imagined. The Texas Hill Country was prime real estate and Rebecca’s place was, apparently, exactly what developers were looking for. If he were smart, he’d start preparing himself and the girls for the possibility of their arrival.
He pushed himself from his chair, finished off the rest of Nova’s muffin—which was dangerously delicious—and made his way outside. Astrid was leaning against the porch railing, her long skirts brushing against her calves. She was barefoot this time.
Because she’d kicked off her shoes inside after she’d almost fallen. But he’d caught her, made sure she was fine, and had no problem with the contact. Why? As a rule, he didn’t like touching people. He flexed his hands and shoved them back into his pockets. He waffled, standing just inside until he figured out what was wrong. People weren’t nice without a reason. He’d learned that at an early age and had yet to have it proven otherwise. Astrid Hill must want something from him, he just needed to figure out what that something was.
And there was the other thing. She wasn’t...predictable. He had no idea what was going to come out of her mouth or where she’d pop up next. Maybe he should pick up a dozen or so No Trespassing signs when he was in town next. Maybe he should tell her he didn’t appreciate her coming into his house, taking over and fixing things—all with a gentle smile. He didn’t appreciate it, even if she had fixed the damn washing machine and mopped up. But she had, as if she had every right to do just that.
She took up space and confused things—confused him. Deeply.
And yet, even with those concerns, the most perplexing thing about Astrid Hill inserting herself into this morning was... He didn’t hate it. He wanted to. But he couldn’t. Instead, he watched her, captivated. She was...fascinating in a peculiar way. From her fluttering skirts to her long hair and her bare feet, she rambled on in a way that should irritate him. Instead, it was quite the opposite.
Now, she was leaning against the porch railing with her hair blowing in the warm summer breeze and he found himself working through her visit. What did she want? Why was she here? And why did she seem to belong here? Once upon a time, he’d belonged here, too.
Rebecca’s place had been a haven for him. Besides Yasmina, his aunt was the only one who’d accepted his anxiety and honest—often blunt—communication style. At home, his family didn’t like hearing what he had to say. They never acknowledged the school counselor’s suggested social anxiety disorder or recommendation to test him for autism. They certainly never tried to understand what those diagnoses might mean. His parents had believed they could fix him ornormalizehim by signing him up for every extracurricular activity, club or camp. It had never worked. He still wasn’t normal. Even military school hadn’tstraightened him out.
Aunt Rebecca had said he was too honest. She’d warned him that people can’t take the truth, especially when it’s things they don’t want to hear about themselves. She’d been the one to help him understand that he didn’t have to say everything he was thinking out loud. After that, his parents and sisters stopped askingWhat is wrong with you?
Yasmina had said his family’s idea ofnormalwas anything but. She was the one who had convinced him he was better off without them. She’d been right. He’d felt more at ease in his own skin since he’d removed them from his life. It had been hard to tune out the constant judgment or ridicule that had been hard-wired into his brain but he’d managed. He was who he was. No apologies necessary. He thought differently. Spoke differently. But that didn’t make him any less human.
“That’s it.” Astrid laughed. “Pudding is very happy. Look at that tail.”
The shaggy dog was sprawled on his back, his wagging tail sending dust into the air.
“See, Charlie?” Nova crouched by the dog, giggling. “Isn’t he funny?”
Charlie nodded, the smile on Nova’s face easing the constant grip of tension compressing his chest. Nova should smile like this. Even Halley, who was throwing what appeared to be a log-sized stick, seemed less angst-ridden playing fetch with the massive dog bounding across the yard. “That’s Oatmeal?”
Astrid turned those green eyes his way. “Yes. The biggest, sweetest lovebug of a dog you’ll ever meet.”
Charlie shook his head at that.Lovebug?
“It’s true.” Astrid smiled. “We have a small herd of dogs and cats—even donkeys, you name it, really. A scruffy, old, one-eyed Chihuahua named Butters is the alpha. He might only be eight pounds but he’s rather ferocious. He keeps the other dogs in line.”
Of course, Astrid Hill would own a one-eyed Chihuahua. “Are all your animals named after food?”
“All except Lord Byron the parrot. Aunt Camellia is the one that brings them home so she gets to name them. You met her at the boutique the other day. She loves to cook so I suppose it makes sense.” He could hear the affection in Astrid’s voice. “It’s like all the dumped or stray animals know she’ll welcome them home.” Her gaze met his—and held tight. “Everyone and everything should have love and a home, don’t you think?”
Fascinatingwasn’t the only word that suited Astrid. She was...bewildering. Rather, she bewildered him. The more he studied her, the more bewildered he felt. There was no reason for it. There was nothing exceptional about her. Except there was.
“Is something wrong?” Astrid’s smile was fading.
He blinked, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I don’t know.” He frowned, his gaze returning to the girls playing with the dogs.
“Oh.” Astrid laughed softly. “I hate that feeling. That sense that you can’t quite name what’s lingering on the edge of your mind, bothering you?”
That’s not exactly what he was feeling. But his feelings were his business—not hers. Especially since she was the cause of thesefeelings.
Halley’s laughter rang out, grabbing Charlie’s undivided attention.
