Page 42 of One Small Spark
I nod. She goes on staring.
“You seem surprised.” An understatement, since her face is the textbook definition of “screaming internally.”
“I wasn’t expecting…” She waves a hand around to take in my mini library. “Thiswhen I pulled up to your murder cabin.”
“I assure you, no one has died here.” My heart stopped when I saw her pull up out front, but I’ve fully recovered.
Almost fully recovered.
“That’s what they all say.”
“It’s not as remote as it looks. My parents and Charlie live down a path just to the east.”
“And I would get an axe in the back before I could ever get them to rescue me.”
She’s so ridiculous. “I would never axe you, Krause.”
“No. You’d use your hands. You’d want to get dirty.”
She stares at me across the small space, her gaze heating until her eyes are tiny blue flames. I could be wrong, but I don’t think she’s imagining memurderingher.
After a minute, she shakes away whatever mysterious thing she’s contemplating. “This is a really nice place.”
I’ll let it go that she’s so surprised. The few people I’ve invited out here have had similar reactions.
“Thank you. I used to live right next door to my parents and Charlie, but I needed more space than that.” Living within fifty yards of my entire family is more togetherness than I’m cut out for. “This is my sanctuary.”
It’s a lofty descriptor, but it’s apt. I need time alone to recharge, and it’s easier to do that here than it ever was with all of us so close together.
“Must be nice.” Wren runs her hands along the back of the couch. “I’ve always lived in the same house with Mom and Tess. And now that Tess is gone, Mom’s got a new boyfriend, and he’s always around. I’m starting to feel like an outsider in my own house.”
She stops abruptly, as if she never meant to confide something in me. I appreciate the trust, even if it’s accidental.
“Anyway,” she says with a forced little laugh, “you’ve definitely got space out here. I was sure I took a wrong turn when I got off the main road.”
It’s not all that far from the turnoff, but if you’ve never been out here, the lack ofanythingcan be alarming.
“How did you know how to find my murder cabin?”
“I asked Charlie. I hope that’s okay. I could have texted you, but in-person seemed best. I figured I could back out of a text a lot easier than I could an actual conversation.”
Her gaze snags on something on the other side of the couch. “Do you play the guitar?”
“Yes.” She’s still staring at the acoustic guitar, but I need her to reverse course. “What conversation did you want to have in person?”
This could go so many ways, I’m not sure what outcome to hope for.
Well. I do know. I’m always hoping for one, specific outcome when it comes to Wren. But I have no idea what’s realistic anymore.
She moves a step closer. Several feet still separate us, but after how often she’s run from me literally and figuratively, the small gesture gives me a thrilling kind of hope.
“I want to apologize for the other day.”
She doesn’t clarify, but I need more than this. Her vague apology could encompass too many things I would never want her to regret. “For the kiss? Or for accepting a date with the other guy?”
She glances away again, pink washing over her cheeks. “For the second part.”
Something inside me frees like a chain that’d been snagged and finally spins smoothly again. The fear she might retreat from me entirely has been gnawing at me.
