Page 27 of Falling Madly
“I feel like this is my fault,” Peony piped up, her smile so pained she looked like she was about to cry. “How can I help? What can I do? Do you need a place to stay? I know the town is fully booked on Valentine’s.”
Trevor’s eyes flashed with alarm. “I don’t. But Teresa might.”
“Great!” Peony smiled, twisting the dog leash around her fingers. “My place is a bit crowded… three kids and the dog… but my couch is yours if you want it!”
“Thank you,” I stammered. “Three kids? You’ve been busy!”
“A set of twins!” She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I actually need to head home to make dinner, but I’ll give you my number…” She pulled out her phone, then halted and turned to Trevor. “I guess I’ll give it to you if her phone is in the car?”
Trevor took her number before we waved goodbye.
“Even if you decide not to stay on my food-stained couch, please message me! I’ll take you out to Bookers for drinks and reminiscing! Promise me we’ll do something. I need to get out of the house!” She laughed breathlessly.
“Let’s!” I promised, and she powered down the street, dragging her dog.
Harry had done his sniffing and lost interest in me, moving so slowly I could tell his age. Back then, he’d been an excitable puppy we’d named after Harry Styles, of course. I’d been away for fourteen years, and so much had happened. I couldn’t believe my old friend had three children. She’d always been the maternal type, but still.
I turned to Trevor. “What did you mean you don’t need a place to stay?”
He gave me a sheepish smile. “I bought a little cabin a while back. And I have the keys in my pocket.”
“You have a place in Cozy Creek?” I stared at him in utter confusion.
Why hadn’t I heard of this? News of this magnitude tended to travel.
“I bought it on the down low,” he added, jingling the keys in his pocket. “It still needs work, but it’s livable.
I narrowed my eyes. “And only accommodates one person?”
“What? No. It’s… under construction.”
“It must be pretty bad if you think I’m better off fighting over a couch with a giant border collie, breaking crayons every time I turn.”
He scratched his beard, looking flustered. “I thought you wouldn’t want to share a house with me since ye didn’t want to come here in the first place.”
“I didn’t,” I admitted.
I kept my gaze on my shoes, trying to calm the brewing storm in my chest.
Part of me wanted to reconnect with Peony, but I knew I’d have to ease into it—start with a couple of beers and a chat, not by crashing on her couch, surrounded by her family. Relying on Trevor didn’t feel right either, especially since he didn’t seem thrilled about inviting me to his cabin. So where did that leave me? Where could I go?
“The office! It’s unoccupied. I can sleep there.” I held out my hand. “Keys, please.”
“I don’t know if it’s safe to give ye any more keys.”
“It wasn’t my fault. The dog pushed me,” I said defensively.
It probablywasmy fault I kept buying shoes designed for a gentle Mediterranean climate, but that was beside the point.
He gave me a lopsided grin. “I’ll let the realtor know that we’ll go back tomorrow morning for one last check or something. Maybe she’ll let us keep the keys overnight.”
He stepped away to make the call, and I leaned on the car, emptying my lungs. This day couldn’t get any worse, right? We’d reached the pinnacle of awful now, and it had to be plain sailing from here.
Tomorrow, I could try to convince Trevor to contact someone other than Charlie to pick up his spare key and bring it over. If they had to break into his apartment to do that, I’d cover the cost. That way, I didn’t have to sleep on the floor for more than one night. One night I could handle.
Trevor returned with a smile. “It’s all sorted. Do ye need some money for dinner? Then I’ll leave you alone.”
He put the office key into my hand, curling my fingers around it. He stood so close, leaning in, that I could smell him. Sometimes, those pheromones were real pesky bitches, stirring trouble. What had Richard smelled like? I couldn’t remember feeling like this with him. I couldn’t remember feeling like this for such a long time I had blissfully forgotten this rush. Why did I have to be this susceptible?
