Lost in Him Read online

  A harsh tug on my arm makes me stumble, and I narrowly avoid smashing head-on into a fellow pedestrian. Lydia clucks her tongue. “Watch where you’re going, newbie. Minnesotans have a reputation for being overly nice, but they’ll still cuss your ass out.”

  “Sorry, and thanks. Sideswiping an unsuspecting someone isn’t on my weekend to-do list.” I shake off the daze. “It’s safe to say that I’m… distracted.”

  She tosses her dark hair with a scoff. “Yeah, I got the hint when you started blindly agreeing to everything. So, in case you missed it, we’re going to a male strip club to watch the guys shake their schlongs.”

  “Um, what? I’ve never done that. Can’t we see a movie instead?” I’m sure my complexion is on fire.

  “Just fucking with you, Virginia.” Her hip bumps into mine. “What has you miles away while we’re supposed to be bonding over gossip and shopping?”

  The three bags dangling from my arm show relative success with the latter. “Nothing much. I’m just taking in the sights.”

  “Uh-huh.” She waves a hand in front of her nose. “I smell bullshit. Walton is great and all, but it’s not worthy of starry-eyed, space-cadet mode.”

  When she called earlier, I jumped at the chance to visit the neighboring town. I’m in desperate need of a change in scenery, if that hasn’t been made clear. Turns out that I’m still floating in Thorn-infested waters.

  “Mr. Surly Silence,” I mumble under my breath. That’s the nickname I openly admit to giving him. Thorn feels too personal.

  Lydia nods in understanding. “I don’t blame you. I’ve heard amazing things.”

  I frown. “But you’ve never met him.”

  Or so she said. The intel she provided last week was based on common knowledge or rumors. That seems to be the case for most people in Hacken. There’s a greedy cavern in my chest that likes the idea of him being this anonymous entity to everyone else.

  She shrugs. “I’m just assuming. Don’t make an ass out of me for trying to be empathetic.”

  “I can’t when it’s true, right?”

  “Hell yes, girl!” Her whoop gains the attention of those nearby. She swats at their passing interest. “It’s about time you get some action. Even if it’s imaginary.”

  My cheeks burst into flames again. “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s absolutely like that. He followed you into the woods.”

  Acid churns in my belly at the way that sounds. The implication alone could be harmful. I suddenly regret sharing my most recent Nash incident with her. “Only because I had his dog.”

  She snorts. “Wow, you’re clueless.”

  “Hey!” I lightly punch her arm. “That’s not nice.”

  Her eyes roll skyward. “For real, newbie. He’s mad about you.”

  “More like just mad.” The man can barely tolerate my presence. There’s no convincing me otherwise.

  “Whatever.” Lydia begins sniffing at a questionable rate. Her stomach growls soon after. My newfound companion doesn’t bother hiding a wince. “What are the chances you’re hungry?”

  “Pretty decent.” Queasiness aside, I could choke something down.

  She steers me to a shallow alcove that hides a restaurant entrance. Benny Boy is plastered across the glass. “This place has the best pizza ever.”

  Little does she know that I’ve been to Italy, where they serve a cheesy pie unlike any other. I’ve also eaten at the most gourmet and renowned restaurants in existence. My refined palate wants to argue, but there’s no sense in disputing her claim. “Can’t wait to try it.”

  Lydia yanks on the door and ushers me forward. “You’re in for a treat.”

  The delectable scents of fresh garlic, baking crust, and vivid spices smack me in my smug face. The smell alone has me scarfing down my previous spouting. Rich history and stories hang from the walls. Wide windows expose the kitchen, where several employees bustle about in organized chaos. It’s humble but proud. I’m instantly in love.

  A checkered floor leads us to the host stand. The teenager smacks her gum while studying a graphic with the seating layout. “Two of you?”

  “On the patio, please.” Lydia glances at me. “Unless you’d prefer inside.”

  “Nope, I’m good. Let’s enjoy the weather.” I’d hesitate if we were in Florida’s humidity. Early June in this northern state is top-notch excellence that I plan to take full advantage of at every available opportunity.

  She rubs her palms together. “Perfect. There’s a bartender I want you to meet. Maybe he’s assigned to that section.”

  The young girl makes a check on her chart, grabs two menus, and exchanges a knowing grin with my friend. “Chance is on the clock. I’ll be sure he takes care of you.”

  Lydia blows her a kiss. “You’re a babe.”

  We weave a direct path across the dining room. Most of the tables and booths are empty. My wonderment must be obvious on my face.

  “They just opened at eleven. By noon, there will be an hour wait.”

  My slack jaw swivels to Lydia. “Really?”

  She wiggles her brows. “It’s just that delicious.”

  The hostess pauses after we step into the warm sunshine. She gestures between a wooden picnic bench option and cushioned stools parked by the shaded bar. “Take your pick.”

  Lydia’s stare is feasting on the man mixing a drink behind the counter. She lifts her chin in his direction. “Front and center, girlfriend.”

  “Enjoy your lunch and entertainment.” She sets a place for us exactly where the eager beaver requested. Then she gives a conspiring wave before returning to her hostess post.

  I give the guy a diligent once-over, but don’t find anything to replace the one who owns permanent real estate in my brain. My focus slides to Lydia with a sigh. “So, what are we going to order?”

  “Very funny.” She knocks her elbow into my side. “But let’s focus on a juicy snack to stimulate our appetites.”

  As if reading between the lines, Chance—his name is stamped on a tag for us to identify—struts over to serve us. “Good morning, ladies.”

  Lydia exhales while leaning forward. “It’s a fine one, isn’t it?”

  “Definitely looking up,” he responds in a gravelly timbre.

  That’s when my phone buzzes, giving me a start. I whip the device from my back pocket to see three text notifications demanding my attention. The sender is none other than the prickly landowner responsible for my consistent fever.

  Thorn: How’s your firewood supply?

  Thorn: Do you need more or not?

  Thorn: A reply this century would be appreciated.

  This is the most Nash has communicated in days. Apparently, someone doesn’t like being ignored. Not that I ghosted him on purpose. I didn’t feel the vibrations while in motion along Main Street.

  Me: I’m good, thanks for asking.

  A second barely passes before he’s typing.

  Thorn: How’s that possible?

  He must be worried about my wood supply. I wondered why bundles of logs were left on the porch. Figured I missed the bonfire pit on my tour.

  Me: I haven’t used the stuff you already dropped off.

  Thorn: Why not?

  Me: No marshmallows.

  The typing dots appear, only to vanish. A smile curves my lips at the familiar pattern. I hope he’s chewing on my clever wit.

  Thorn: I don’t get it.

  Me: You wouldn’t.

  Thorn: Where are you?

  Me: Why?

  Thorn: You’re not at the cabin.

  Me: What was your first clue?

  Thorn: Your car is gone.

  Frustration leaps from the screen. The fact he’s noticed my absence gets a twisted rise from me. I recognize the traitorous flutters and bat them down with a hush.

  Thorn: Where are you?

  Me: With a friend.

  Thorn: Who?

  Me: None of your business.

  Thorn: Tell me where you a
re, Penny.

  Ah, we’re done with the requests. The instinct to act like a stubborn brat slides into the driver’s seat. My logical, mature side can’t be held responsible for what happens next. Besides, we’ve been locked in this tension tango before.

  Me: Make me.

  “Why are you squirming like that?”

  I drop my phone like a hot potato. The plastic case clatters on the metal bar top. “Huh?”

  Lydia is assessing me with far too much scrutiny. “And you’re blushing. Were you sexting?”

  I force my gaze to hers, ignoring the incoming texts flashing at me. “No, not at all. Just answered some missed messages while you were occupied.”

  “Not anymore.” She jerks a thumb to the patio corner where her flirting partner is with another customer.

  “He’ll return momentarily.”

  “I thought you’d be more interested in him.” She picks at the cardboard coaster under her sweaty water glass. Not sure when that arrived, or the matching one for me.

  My hand tips left to right. “Not really my type.”

  Now her mouth slants into a crooked grin. “Too easy?”

  “Something like that.” I allow my gaze to stray sideways, stealing a peek at the inconsistent flashing that has yet to cease.

  Lydia’s focus follows mine. Her brows spring upward. “Who’s blowing you up?”

  “Mr. Surly Silence,” I admit with a sigh.

  “Not so silent now.”

  “Nope.” Not until I give him what he wants. I bite my bottom lip to trap the elation trying to escape.

  I tossed down that haughty taunt and disappeared. Another sly look at the screen shows his extreme displeasure. A salacious thrill skates along my skin, eliciting a shiver despite the summer warmth.

  Thorn: Better watch that smart mouth.

  Thorn: Or better yet, don’t and see what happens.

  Thorn: Were you just teasing me?

  Thorn: Dammit, Penny. Stop fucking with my head.

  Thorn: Where are you?

  Thorn: The silent treatment isn’t cute coming from you.

  That last one deserves a laugh—rich and throaty. Moisture blurs my vision with the sudden onset of humor. He’s hilarious, this one.

  “Oh, you’re s-m-i-t-t-e-n.” It’s entirely unnecessary for her to spell the word.

  “I’m not.”

  “Quit lying. I have functioning eyeballs.” She motions from hers to mine and back again.

  “Good for you?” I try to relax my features into a neutral mask.

  Lydia snorts at my failed attempt. “What’s lover boy saying?”

  “He isn’t happy that I got quiet.” And that’s being beyond vague.

  “Answer,” she urges with a shooing motion.

  But before I can consider telling him to calm the fuck down, a large pizza appears in the space between Lydia and me. I guess the thorn in my side will have to wait. That’s what he deserves for leaving me hanging. Last time, in the woods mid-hike, he stormed off after I confronted him. I had plenty more to say too. We’ll see how he likes the reprieve.

  With those temporary terms dished out, my lashes flutter at the sinfully high-calorie lunch. Nothing has made me gulp in preparation quite like this. Other than Nash. Dammit.

  A snarky brow gets arched at my friend. “I don’t remember ordering.”

  Lydia doesn’t appear sheepish in the slightest. “Because you spent the last several minutes glued to your phone. Trust me, you’ll love it. Don’t be polite and deny yourself. Grab it while it’s hot.”

  My mouth waters at the blissful aroma. Oregano, mozzarella, and pepperoni bless my nostrils while tempting me to devour the entire pie. I scoop a square slice onto my plate and reach for utensils.

  “Absolutely not.” Lydia denies my attempt with a light smack. “We’re not prim and proper up here in these parts. You eat this pizza like it’s your last meal.”

  Father and Mother would have a shit fit. That’s all the motivation I need to pick up the steamy piece with my fingers. The savory rebellion hovers inches from my lips, just waiting for that final nudge. “If you insist.”

  “I really do.” She chomps down on her slice without hesitation.

  Envy gnashes my teeth. I’m quick to follow her lead. Gooey goodness explodes on my tastebuds. I go a little cross-eyed at the punch a single bite delivers. Just the right amount of crisp and grease and meat. The flavors combine into a blissful melody that I’ll crave for days to come.

  “Oh. My. Gahhh.” I moan in decadent fashion around my next gobble. “This is incredible.”

  Lydia is already going for a third piece. “Didn’t I tell you?”

  “I had my doubts, but damn. This is a spontaneous mouthgasm.”

  “You’re wel-come,” she sings.

  My hand swoops down on my next tasty victim. “At this pace, I’ll need to be rolled out of here.”

  She swats my worry away. “Don’t worry, I’ll call for a lift. Or maybe Chance will help us out. Literally.”

  “That’s true friendship.”

  “Damn straight.” She winks at me. “Now, text your man before he loses his shit.”

  “Not my man,” I mutter with added petulance.

  Lydia sucks on her messy fingers, going overboard on the cleaning process once Chance takes notice. “Just remember I told you so.”

  Just then, another message pops up. Nash’s ears must be burning. I give a giddy smile free rein over my expression.

  Thorn: Will you answer if I say Rune is concerned?

  The exploitation is too sappy to resist.

  Me: Tell him I’ll have pizza leftovers from Benny Boy. You can come get them later.

  Thorn: I’ll send him over.

  And since I’m a glutton for Nash’s broody darkness, it hurts my heart that he doesn’t include himself in that scenario.

  The aggravated burn in my muscles is satisfying, but not enough. Another thwack ricochets off the forest’s perpetual silence. It’s taken hours for me to reach this point. Sweat stings my eyes and a raw blister forms over hardened callouses. Little relief arrives to comfort me. Aside from the breeze off the lake, I’ve been baking in the heat. But sunset is fast approaching.

  Soft purple bleeds into the cloudless bright blue above. That means my window of opportunity is shrinking. I’m already spent. A glance at the ground mocks me. Four more cuts. That’s more than my arms can handle, but I won’t quit.

  Set. Swing. Strike. Split.

  This scene is too damn familiar. It’s not like I spend my days doing much else. Not until Penny broke apart the dull monotony.

  The handle slips with my next upward arch. Once she enters my thoughts, it’s almost impossible to get her out.

  “Dammit,” I grunt.

  It’s a fucking feat that I manage to finish.

  The ax falls from my limp grasp. There’s nothing left in the tank except the minimal effort required to fill the wheelbarrow. Each solid thunk as wood hits metal keeps me focused on the task. I don’t pause until the last piece is tossed on top.

  Whether Penny needs more or not, I’m determined to deliver. It’s no secret why. But this is a means to an end. The less she has to complain about, the smoother my summer will pass. Getting rid of her isn’t an option. The sharp sting in my chest is unwarranted. I can’t allow myself to get attached.

  This is just part of my usual responsibilities. I’d do the same for any tenant. The lie doesn’t taste better, no matter how often I spew it.

  But the firewood isn’t all I have to offer.

  I pocketed a brownish-green rock on the beach that reminded me of her. Not just the color. The shape resembles a heart, which is asinine, but that didn’t stop me from collecting the damn thing.

  The small object is cool against the furious flesh of my palm. It appears fragile, but the stone can withstand the pressure. I scrub over my damp forehead as more poetic shit spills from me. This isn’t who I am. But that harsh denial doesn’t sit steady in my g
ut. The man I’ve allowed myself to become is no prize either.

  I’ve become little more than an empty shell, refusing to move beyond the surface. I didn’t even realize how hollow I was until she reminded me of what I’m missing. It’s a curse more than anything. Once she’s gone, I’ll go back to a cold and lonely existence without sunshine along the horizon.

  She’s just a beautiful distraction. A pretty face with the bad habit of getting on my last nerve. Someone to defy the strict and rigid boundaries I abide by.

  But a snarl curls my upper lip at the superficial depiction.

  No, Penny Blaire is far more than that.

  She’s given me a purpose again. A different type of peace that solitude cannot provide. Her breathy voice taunts me, teasing my own. Curiosity refuses to release me. Those torturous shackles demand to be fed answers. Yet she defeats my defenses with a mere swipe of her tiny hand. Decimates any attempts I’m foolish enough to try.

  I’d probably welcome her into my home—my last standing, untainted sanctuary—if she asked. The thought of her invading my space sends a cold chill down my spine, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. A tour of my workshop might make her smile. It’s an idea I’ve entertained on more than one occasion. I still don’t sleep, but I catch myself drifting off hoping to dream about her. Just further proof that’s she’s already gotten to me in these two short weeks.

  It’s significant progress barbed in chilled fear. I don’t want this to end.

  Penny’s delayed responses reminded me of the years I’ve spent in nothing but silence. The hollow memories kicked off this downward whirlwind. I found myself desperate to reach her. It’s fucked beyond reason, and I don’t know how to resolve this ditch I’ve dumped myself in.

  What she must think of me.

  Bitter numbness spreads from my chest. I haven’t heard from her since last night. Even then, she wasn’t trying to reach me. She had pizza for Rune from her trip to Walton. I let him go, following a safe distance behind to remain unseen. They shared the leftovers. Penny spoiled him with affection. My dog ate up every scrap as if starved—of both pizza and affection, the traitor—while I stayed in the shadows where I belong.

  Now an entire day has crawled by.

  Rune’s pitiful whine intrudes into my deprecating spiral. The sorrow in his eyes might drown me. It provides some incentive that I’m not the only one obsessed with the blonde darling.