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The library, the dining room, the living room (again), the hallway, the shower…
He’s insatiable. So am I.
It’s like being together taps into this secret well of rabid need that’s been building for years.
But unfortunately, real life also happens, duties and doubts waiting to disrupt paradise.
I wish it didn’t, but no matter how explosive we are in bed, time keeps ticking by.
I promised him a beekeeper for free rent. I’m not skimping on my end of the deal. That’s why we return to the cabin together.
Solitude.
It’s such a perfect name for this tranquil place. Without my woes seeping in, it’s an oasis in the woods where all worldly cares melt away.
We’ve been back a few times since I started staying with Archer. Every time, he accompanies me with this protective edge in his voice.
I’m afraid he’ll wreck Holden’s face if my dumb, selfish ex is stupid enough to show up again.
But the bees are doing well.
At first, I was concerned, like leaving the place vacant could open them to some shocking disaster. But no, they’re thriving.
The honey looks just as royal purple as always, and it seems like there’s more of it every visit as the summer wears on.
“Can you pass me the hammer please?” I hold my hand out behind me. I feel something cool and metallic settle in my palm a second later and I wrap my fingers around it.
“You sure you’ve got this?” Archer asks.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve built more than a few of these over the years.” With the back of my hand, I wipe sweat from my forehead.
It’s already August with the late summer sun blazing, but the effort is worth it. This extra box will give the bees plenty of space to expand before the season ends and into next year.
My phone buzzes again and I push my hat back as I stare at the screen.
Another missed call from Mom.
Sigh.
I listened to her last voicemail in the bathroom so Archer wouldn’t hear it, and it was predictably needy as hell.
We’ve reached the begging stage of her manic guilt trip. The part where her world starts imploding with a huge Winnie-sized piece of it missing.
Mompleadedwith me to come home.
She needs me, she says.
Dad needs me, she promises, even if he won’t admit it to her face.
Without me, their dutiful and loving daughter, the family isn’t complete.
Same old manipulative crap I’ve put up with my whole life, whenever I was on the verge of striking out on my own and cutting ties.
Seriously, why listen to another word?
My answer is the same no matter how much her voice breaks, no matter how much she goes to tears at the end and gurgles,“Winnie, we love you so much… you don’t even know.”
“Everything okay?” Archer asks, laying a hand on my shoulder.