Page 37 of Take Me
Hilarious.
I shouldn’t take offense.It’s true that Erika and I are the last people on earth who’d ever be in a romantic relationship.There’s too much history, too much platonic connection between us.Why would either of us fuck that up?
“The wedding website says there’s a shuttle that runs between Sam’s wildlife sanctuary and the nearby lodging.”I follow the signs to reception, keeping my eyes on the road.“Could you check and make sure this is one of the stops?”
“On it.”She taps on her phone screen as I cruise down the gravel road.“Thanks again for suggesting this.I’m glad we can save a few bucks by bunking together.”
“No sweat.”It’s not like we’ve never done it before.“Helps with the ruse that we’re dating, right?”
“Totally.”She points to an empty parking spot, and I make a beeline for it.“This looks a lot nicer than the dodgy motel I’d reserved.”
“You Venmo’d too much, by the way.”
Rolling her eyes, she unhooks her seatbelt.“You drove and bought snacks,” she says.“It’s only a few extra bucks.”
“You can have the nicer bed then.”Whenever we’ve bunked together on road trips, she always claims the one by the bathroom.
“Deal.”She hops out of the truck and opens the back to drag out our suitcases.Raindrops spatter our shoulders as we sort out our stuff.
Erika loops a black garment bag over her arm.“This place is way bigger than I was expecting.How many cabins do they have?”
“Six or seven, I think.They keep adding new ones.”
“And there’s breakfast?”
“Yep.You pick what you want, and they bring it right to your cabin.”
“Cool.”
“I’ve heard the food’s really good.”When I made the reservation last month, Annabelle gushed at the photos.
“Oh, look!”She’d pointed at the photo on the website.“They have chickens and goats and cows.You know what that means?”
“Free vet exams for our hosts?”I guessed.
She laughed and swatted my arm.“Farm fresh breakfast in bed.”
Remembering that now makes my chest ache a little, but not like it did last week.That seems like a healthy sign.As I shift my duffel bag onto my shoulder, I skim a series of hand-printed signs pointing us to the event pavilion and tasting room.There’s another one directing us to the cabins, so we hang a right and skirt a series of gaping mud puddles.Several more signs assure us we’re going the right way.There’s one at the edge of the walkway, dripping with rain but declaring their breakfast offerings in colorful letters.
Organic omelets with goat cheese and fresh herbs.
Scratch-made biscuits with local raspberry jam.
Fresh-squeezed mimosas with sparkling estate Pinot Gris.
“Looks good,”Erika says.“Think we have to pick, or can we try everything?”
“Dunno.”I’ve always admired her appetite.“Look, they’ve got a bike tour and hiking trails.”
She looks where I’m pointing at a rustic wood sign that spells out the terms of the bike tour, plus three different choices for self-guided hikes.“That three-mile one looks fun.Wanna try it?”
“If we’ve got time before the welcome reception.”I glance at my watch, glad we left early.It’s beautiful here, even with the rain.Wispy clouds wiggle their way through the trees, thick clusters of evergreens ambling their way up a crest.Off to the right, thick rows of grapevines march in neat rows over lush, rolling hills.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air and the spice of damp soil and pine.There’s something else, too, a bright tang of citrus that stirs something deep in my chest.
“Are you wearing perfume?”
Erika blinks.“Me?No.Why?”
