Page 88

SUNSETS AND SANDWICHES

“You didn’t go to jail for murder, right?”

As we walked through the tall grass, he glanced over his shoulder, a smile stretched across his face.

He wasn’t going to give up his secret that easily.

I could have called and asked Gladys, but knowing how rumors in Firefly went, it had grown.

What started as jaywalking could become high-speed chases or international espionage.

“I promise you’re safe.” He gestured for me to keep up. “Just beware of bears.”

I loved bears. They’re so damned… Oh. The four-legged kind that could throw me around like a plaything. Wait, maybe they weren’t so different. This wouldn’t be a concern in Portland. The only bears I had to worry about were the leather daddies having drinks at the Dugout.

The sun had started to set, but we had another hour of light before wandering through the field in the dark. Driving empty roads here proved that Firefly was close to the middle of nowhere. We had officially left the map.

“We’re almost there.”

“Is this where the gangs of lumberjacks hideout? Are you the leader of a gang of flannel-clad ruffians?”

“No, this isn’t a porn.”

“Damn.”

I held out my hand, letting the top of the grass tickle my palms. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been surrounded by this much greenery.

Portland had parks and more than its fair share of trees, but it didn’t have fields stretching to the mountains.

Trees didn’t speckle the distance, hidden in shadows like rows of soldiers.

We might both call Maine home, but only one of us had been born in the wild.

I tightened the straps on my backpack as we headed toward a single oak. As we reached the base, Tyler didn’t stop, except this time, he moved up. Stepping back, I craned my neck to see a structure hidden amongst the leaves. I had heard hunting cabins were common but never imagined one in a tree.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” My track record with gravity wasn't great.

“I haven’t died yet.”

Not the ringing endorsement I had hoped for. “Are we trespassing?” Maybe he went to jail for breaking and entering… breaking and climbing… unlawful climbing? I’m sure we were breaking a law, and a game warden would appear at any moment.

“It’s an adventure,” he said.

Three words spoken like a dare. Mimi… if I break my neck, it’s on you.

I gripped the first wooden step, testing its sturdiness.

Tyler had to have at least fifty pounds on me.

I glanced up to see his jeans tight, every step showing off the muscle of those beautiful glutes.

If he hadn’t fallen and broken his neck, I needed to have faith they’d hold for me.

Then I remembered I was the guy who walked into walls and fell while standing still.

Heaven help me.

I followed, hurrying to avoid slipping and dying.

When I reached the top, I had climbed through a hole in the floor.

Sitting with my legs dangling twenty feet above the ground, I tried to catch my breath.

Tyler sat with his back against a wall covered in graffiti.

He smiled while watching me. He might be a burly bear, but he must have kept himself in shape.

“What?”

“You’re the second most beautiful thing here.”

He laid it on thick, but the way he stared, I believed him. My cheeks burned as I stared down at a glistening spot of sap on my jeans. It had been eons since somebody looked at me like a chubby kid staring at a tray of cupcakes.

“Wait. Second?”

He didn’t respond. Turning his head, I followed his eyes to— “Wow.”

The builders had forgotten to put up the fourth wall of their treehouse.

Instead, I had a view of dense trees stretching to the mountains.

I could use the word forest, but it wouldn’t have done Maine justice.

The mountain range surrounding Firefly Valley remained hazy as if they were half in our world and half wherever elves lived.

“A close second.”

I ignored his attempts at flattery. It’d have been impressive on its own.

As the sun set, the shadows of the mountains stretched along the tree tops.

Behind it, the sky colored like the flickering flame of a matchstick.

With every minute, the colors continued fading.

Out here, the world felt quieter, slower, as if it invited me to stop and breathe.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“I promised a spot for our picnic.”

Pulling off the backpack, I paused every few seconds to find another cloud had dispersed.

I offered to pack dinner if he could think of a suitable spot for our date.

I imagined we’d be eating on the floor of the gazebo or sprawled out in the grass.

Tyler, outdoing himself, left me thinking my contributions were subpar.

“I have sandwiches for dinner. If I had known?—”

He reached out with a grabbing motion. “Did Bonnie make them?” I pulled out the first sandwich. “Yup!” He snatched the crinkly plastic wrapped Coffee Pot. I’d never understand the obsession with Maine’s trademark sandwich. It didn’t seem to matter as he took his first bite.

I pulled out my sandwich to see Bonnie had scribbled on it with a marker.

“Adorable Man-Friend.” It seemed Gladys had gotten around to spilling the beans.

I could foresee plenty of remarks from the rest of the town.

The pies being delivered would come with unsolicited advice.

It’d start with casual questions, and before long, they’d be planning our wedding. Firefly demanded a happily ever after.

“Don’t tell anybody, but Bonnie adds mayo to the sandwich.”

“You rebel, you.”

I didn’t know they were intended to be eaten without condiments.

I unwrapped the cellophane and inspected the innards.

Meat. Cheese. Onions. Green Peppers. Pickles.

I scooted against the wall before taking a bite, wondering if I’d experience the same magic.

Mayo shot out the back, splattering across my jeans.

“Excited to see me?” he asked with a snort.

I let out a deep breath. The Olsen curse refused to let up. I grabbed napkins from my backpack and wiped off my jeans. Now, it looked like a wet spot. “Apparently, you have that effect on me.”

I took another bite of my sandwich. Not bad, but I’d have to live vicariously through Tyler as he moaned between bites.

He reached into his bag and produced a flask. “Rum.” He took a sip and handed it to me. I didn’t question him, taking a quick swig. We might as well have been teenagers again, stealing booze from whichever parent forgot to lock their liquor cabinet.

“Why here?” Other than his job and love of books, I knew almost nothing about Tyler. I hardly knew him when we were seventeen.

He finished his chewing before pointing to the mountains. “You can’t beat this view.”

Nope, I wasn’t letting him get away with a shallow reply. If we were going to bridge the gap from stranger to friend, I needed to understand him, at least a little. This is where I struggled. Sex… that was easy. Intimacy… not my forte.

“You can see the mountains everywhere. Why this spot?”

I almost retracted the question as he looked down at the sandwich in his lap. The fun-loving grin faded as he trudged through a painful memory. I had seen a similar expression staring at me in the mirror for years.

“I built it with my dad.”

“Oh.” Oh? I needed to work on my small talk. “Do you hunt?”

He shook his head. “He tried to teach me. I’ve polished more than a few guns in my day.” Armed robbery. It had to be an armed robbery. “He grew up hunting with his dad. He wanted it to be our thing.”

“As I’m a newly appointed expert in all things Tyler,” I said. “I don’t take you for the hunting type?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a crack shot with a rifle.” I wonder if he and Laurel had gone toe-to-toe, showing off their skills. “But killing things isn’t exactly exciting. I’d much rather sit down with a book. Less noise.”

“How’d he take it?”

“You know. Disappointed. At least at first.” I didn’t quite know how to talk about parents without making it weird.

Every time the conversation came up, once it came out that my folks died, the conversation turned awkward.

“We had a year or two where he tried to get me interested in things he liked. Changing the oil in my car, no problem. I know how to put up drywall. I can shoot a gun. But he knew none of it excited me.”

I liked to imagine my parents would have continued pushing me toward my passions.

Maybe if Mom were still around, she’d remind me that being content isn’t the same as really living—and that I’ve played it safe long enough.

While they might be gone, I had the luxury of imagining them as these perfect people who always supported me.

“Then, one day, he asked me to come with him. I was confused because we were coming to the treehouse, but he didn’t have his rifle.

When we got up here, he didn’t say a word.

I could swear he found out I was sneaking out at night.

” Tyler gave a slight chuckle at the memory.

He set his sandwich in his lap. “Then he pulled out a book and started reading.”

I had to smile at his dad’s efforts. To think he set aside his upbringing and found his son’s passion made me stifle a breath. This was a side of Tyler I hadn't expected. Something about his honesty made him even more endearing.

“Of course, I had my book. We sat up here and read. That’s it. Then he told me all about the private eye in his book. He asked me about the elves in mine and why they hated dwarves.”

“That’s sweet.”

My hand rested on the floorboards. I could feel his finger creeping over mine. I pulled away for a moment. His eyes darted downward until I covered his hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Why here?” He repeated my question before glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “I think of it as a place for reconnecting.”