Page 74 of Book and Ladder
She glances between me and Daisy.
“Boyfriend?” she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
Daisy looks at me and laughs, holding her palm out toward me and shaking it from side to side.
“Definitely not my boyfriend.”
“We grew up together,” I supply.
“Ah,” the author says. “That explains the chemistry.”
Chemistry?More like that bear with a thorn found her wayinto a warehouse of explosives and I’m carrying a lit match—one careless spark and I could lose my head.
Daisy huffs out a nervous laugh. She looks up at me and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She seems ready to tell the sordid tale of how very deeply she despises even sharing the same zip code with me, but this time decorum wins.
“I’d better get out to the truck,” I say. “Unless you need … uh … want … Unless there’s anything else I can do.”
The author smiles a self-satisfied grin as if my bumbling delivery confirms her suspicions.
“I think I’ll make do without your heroics,” Daisy quips.
There she is. I can’t help smiling at her familiar snark.
Despite the fact that I’m fueling the misconceptions of our guest author, I lean in closer to Daisy until we’re nearly a breath away from one another—like we were over the glass of milk.
I stare into her defiant glare and say, “I think you like my heroics.”
Then I pull back and wink, and, before she can get the last word in, I turn, slip my boots on, and walk out the door.
We drive back to the station on autopilot.
The emotions that ambushed me in Moss and Maple haven’t dimmed. If anything, it’s like I yanked the cork on a champagne bottle—feelings for Daisy exploding everywhere in a sticky, all-consuming mess. One-sided as they obviously are, they’re still overpowering and impossible to shove aside.
When we’re back in our bunks, I’m too restless to settle.
I glance over at Cody’s still body, curled up in the twin bed across the room from me. The station is quiet. Grey is probably down for the night. Dustin went home with Emberleigh with Captain’s approval.
Certain I won’t be interrupted or spied on, I open my emails to find a response from M&M:
Dear BTTP,
Pineapple on pizza is a no for me. Can we still be friends?
I chuckle, then quickly glance at Cody. He rustles a little bit, but resettles quickly.
Since we won’t be eating pizza together for the foreseeable future, I think our difference can be overlooked.
Why does her declaration of our separation send an odd ache through me? I can’t have Daisy. And I can’t have M&M.
If I’m being honest, I liked your rambling, unfiltered message.
The cabin sounds amazing. I do have a cabin like that in my life. I never go. My work keeps me busy most days. I can’t take time away from my town very often. I miss lazy days with a book in my hand and no schedule or agenda.
My life could use that kind of break—especially lately.
I don’t know what else to say, so I’ll leave this open-ended.
Looking forward to whatever you write next.
