by Hazel Kelly
“I really like you, too.”
“No, I mean, I like you in a way that terrifies me, a way that makes me feel slightly… insane.”
“That would be the oxytocin.”
“It’s more than that,” she said, drawing my hand to her chest. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
“Me neither.”
“Really?”
“Really, Zo. Never.”
“I don’t know where we go from here.”
“Me neither, but we have all night to decide since nowhere’s even open now.”
“Don’t be a smart ass,” she said. “I’m trying to be serious.”
“I know, but I’m still buried inside you so it’s hard to get any deeper than that.”
“A fair point,” she said, making no move to pull away. “But seriously, now what?”
“We keep taking it slow, I guess.”
“Like we’ve always done?”
“Exactly,” I said. “Like we’ve always done.”
“I suppose it is working for us.”
“I certainly think so,” I joked, giving her a gentle thrust. “I mean, look where we are now.”
She looked around the glowing room at the half-melted candles, taking it all in before turning back to me. “Paradise.”
I smiled. “Close enough, anyway.”
“No,” she said, snuggling into me. “Never close enough.”
And I knew then that she was right, that we’d found our little slice of paradise in each other, with each other.
And it was about damn time, too.
E P I L O G U E
- Zoey -
I was so proud you’d think I built the furniture myself.
Even better, I could tell Logan was proud. It was obvious from the way he was carrying himself, the way he’d been dealing with customers all day.
Seeing his professional side was a bigger thrill than I imagined. Sure, he was all magnetic confidence and easy charm with me in private, but I’d never seen him turn it on like this for anyone besides his adoring frat brothers.
Yet here he was being downright charismatic as he discussed his furniture with genuine strangers, a million miles from the brooding boy who used to hide his blue eyes behind his overgrown hair.
To be honest, it was sort of alarming how often I found myself falling for him all over again these days, as if there was no limit to how deep I could slip under his spell.
But despite all the time we’d been spending together, I had yet to figure him out. He was too full of surprises, too full of layers. As if he were the poster boy for that saying about how some people are like onions. Except getting to know him hadn’t made me cry.
Actually, that’s not entirely true. On a few occasions, when his mood was just right, he opened up to me about his childhood, and I struggled to keep my composure in response to many of his stories. I mean, I once knew a thing or two about neglect, but there were goats in third world countries that had a better start than he did.
The physical abuse was the lesser of the two evils. How anyone could overcome the constant bullying and belittling he’d faced as a kid was beyond me. Still, as hard as it was to hear about his past, I was grateful that he confided in me because it helped me understand not only what he’d overcome, but how far he’d come.
I didn’t love him more for having a fucked-up childhood. I hated thinking about what he went through. But it did make me more appreciative of the love he showed me because I knew how pure and real it was.
He wasn’t mimicking anything he’d seen before. He couldn’t go through the motions if he wanted to. His feelings came straight from the heart, uncensored and without pretense.
It also helped me understand why he soaked up the affection I gave him like a magic sponge that could never be saturated enough.
In my heart, I knew it was a lot to take on. After all, I’d seen firsthand the effort my parents had to put in with kids who were suspicious of kindness, kids who didn’t know how to express their feelings, much less that it was okay to do so.
Fortunately, Logan was past that stage, but despite his muscled exterior and confident demeanor, he was still fragile in ways other people didn’t know about. Fragile in ways he trusted me to know about. And earning the trust of someone who’s never made a habit of trusting others was a privilege I wasn’t about to take for granted.
Anyway, the only reason any of that stuff crossed my mind as I watched people rush around my dad’s shop trying to get barrels of squashes and bunches of sunflowers to decorate their Thanksgiving tables, was because I couldn’t help but think, if only they could see him now. If only those spineless child-haters could see what a success he’d become, wouldn’t they feel bad then?
Then again, of course they would. Surely bad people felt bad all the time. Logan’s wild success wouldn’t change them. And it wouldn’t change anything for him either. Besides, he was too focused on the future to care about the past. Too focused on me… at least during the free time he had in the evenings… and Saturday and Sunday morning, too, if I was lucky.
Which I was. Undeniably.
And just when I thought I couldn’t get any luckier, Piper walked through the front door of the shop and smiled as soon as she saw me. She looked skinnier than usual but not as pale as when she first visited me at school.
I threw my arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “You’re so good to come!”
“Of course,” she said, glancing at Logan, who was introducing a potential customer to his first rocking chair. “How’s it going?”
“Great! Last I checked, he’d sold two patio chairs, three side tables, a bench, and a Lazy Susan.”
“That’s fantastic!” she said. “Drinks on him tonight.”
“I’m sure he’ll be up for that.” The three of us used to always have a few drinks the night before Thanksgiving, and while we skipped the last two years, I was looking forward to reinstating the tradition. Especially now that Piper and Logan had smoothed things over.
Admittedly, things were a little awkward at first when she came down to visit over Halloween weekend. But by the time she left, it was obvious that she was rooting for us all the way and that they’d maintained enough mutual respect that they could nurture a friendship again.
Initially, the idea was bittersweet for me, as an insecure part of me feared maybe they still had feelings for each other. Eventually, though, I realized how lucky I was to have a boyfriend who not only liked my best friend, but sincerely cared about her.
“How are things with your parents?” I asked.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said, shifting her purse behind her.
“That bad?”
“Let’s put it this way,” she said. “I don’t want to complain on Thanksgiving break, but I don’t want to spend any more time with them this weekend than I have to.”
“You know you’re welcome at my house anytime.”
Her chocolate eyes smiled. “Thanks, Zo. I’ve known that since I was six.”
I rubbed her arm for a second to let her know I was there if she changed her mind and wanted to talk.
“Well, if it isn’t my next happy customer,” Logan said as he walked up.
Piper laughed and gave him a hug, which warmed my bloated heart. “I’m so glad things are going well.”
“I have to give Mr. P a lot of the credit for including me in his Black Wednesday sale,” he said, scanning the shop. “People are really in a buying mood today.”
“Seems so obvious to start your Black Friday sale before the competition,” Piper said.
I nodded. “Who knows what shit he’ll pull for their twenty-fifth anniversary next summer. You’ll probably sell a chair a minute.”
Logan’s eyes rolled up like he couldn’t imagine anything more exciting.
“I’m not exactly in the market for furniture right now,” Piper said. “Though I wish there was something I could buy to support you.”
“There is actually,” I said, gesturing towards a table off to the side.
“Oh my gosh!” She eyed the selection of small wooden animals that Logan had whittled over the last few years. “I didn’t know you were still making these.”
“It’s a compulsion,” he said.
She picked up a tiny mouse and smiled at its little face, which was complete with a pointy nose and delicately carved whiskers.
“I was trying to get really good at one animal,” Logan said. “So it could be my trademark.”
Piper lifted her face. “Your trademark?”
“Yeah, like this one,” he said, pointing under the table at the sparrow perched on one of the support beams between the legs. “I wanted all my pieces to have a little accent animal hidden somewhere.”
She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “That’s so clever.”
“I thought so, too,” he said. “Until Zoey had an even better idea.”
“Doesn’t she always,” Piper said, turning to me. “What was your idea?”
Logan nodded for me to continue.
“I just suggested he let people choose their own accent animal,” I said, looking from the owl to the toad to the sleeping cat. “I figured it would add to the uniqueness of each piece while ensuring Logan wouldn’t go crazy whittling the same thing over and over.”
“That’s a great idea,” she said. “So I can buy this little mouse now and get a chair to go with it later?”
I started to nod but Logan interrupted. “Absolutely not.”
I furrowed my brow.
He pushed a palm towards her. “Your money’s no good here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I want to buy it.”
“You can’t,” he said. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
She considered him for a moment but could tell his mind was made up. “Thank you,” she said, admiring the mouse. “I love it.”
His eyes smiled. “Don’t forget to come back for that chair now.”
She laughed. “I won’t. I promise.”
I had a feeling this was going to be the best Thanksgiving ever.
Piper’s phone rang a moment later, and she went outside to take the call.
“That was nice of you,” I said, stepping closer to Logan.
“It was nice of her to come,” he said, sliding his hands around my waist. “Hell, it’s been nice of all these people to come. I can’t believe the turnout, the profit, the interest…”
“I can,” I said, hooking my arms around the back of his neck. “I’m not surprised at all.”
His lips curved into a smile.
“Seriously, you don’t know how good you are, how good your pieces are. I really think this is only the beginning.”
“I hope so,” he said. “That’s the dream anyway.”
“Have I told you how proud I am of you?”
“Only about six times today,” he said. “But that short-term memory of mine is a real liability, so you best keep the niceties flowing.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Don’t get me started thinking about your pleasure,” he said, his face growing stern. “I still have to put in two more hours here before I can call it a day.”
“You down to have drinks with Piper tonight?” I asked. “I think she could really use the company, and it was tradition once.”
“Sure,” he said, squeezing me close. “As long as we can start some new traditions after.”
“I’m open to that.”
“And your legs?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Will they be open to that?”
“As long as you say the magic words.”
“What are the magic words?” he asked. “Spread ’em?”
I scoffed. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Will magic touch do?” he asked, flashing his eyebrows.
I stuck my bottom lip out like I had to think about it.
“Certainly worked last night,” he said, as if I’d forgotten. “And the night before.”
“True,” I said. “Now that you mention it, anything but spread ‘em should do the trick.”
“Noted,” he said, his eyes taking on a faraway look that told me his mind had strayed from thoughts of bespoke furniture.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
“Why would I be nervous about tomorrow?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s our first Thanksgiving as a couple, our first big meal with the whole family. You’re not worried it might be a little awkward?”
“You’ve been ogling me across the dinner table for years, Zo. I don’t think anyone’s going to notice a change.”
“First of all, I reject that accusation.”
He laughed.
“And second of all, there has been a change.”
“True,” he said. “But I say we go in hot and heavy. Give Billy a break from the spotlight. I’m sure he’d be grateful.”
“She.”
“Right.”
“And that’s not how I want to play it,” I said. “It’s too soon.”
“Meaning?”
“I want to keep the PDA to a minimum in front of the kids. It might be confusing for them, and I don’t want to set an example that it’s normal to fall for your adopted siblings.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Better for them to keep their feelings locked up and suffer for years like we did if they like each other.”
“Exactly.”
His lips twisted into a bemused smile usually reserved for the bedroom. “Does that mean when your mom goes around and makes everyone say what they’re thankful for, you’re not going to say my dick?”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“Which isn’t to say I’m not,” I said. “God knows I was last night.”
He pushed some hair out of my face and locked his eyes on mine so the shop blurred around us. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” I said, my cheeks burning at his undivided attention.
“I’m thankful for you every day,” he said. “Not just at Thanksgiving and not only for your gorgeous body.”
My toes curled in my sunflower boots. “Is that so?”
He nodded. “I’m thankful for how patient you are with me and for every chance you give me to show you how much I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I know,” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s the second best feeling in the world.”
“Second best?” I asked. “What’s first best?”
“Loving you back,” he said. “Loving you more.”
And even though my first instinct was to argue- to tell him that was ridiculous and that of course he didn’t love me more- I could see in his eyes how much he meant it, how true it was for him.
So I decided to let him believe it. For now.
Because there was no doubt in my mind that I had the rest of my life to convince him otherwise.
And I knew in my heart that I would enjoy every minute of it.
N O T E F R O M T H E A U T H O R
Thank you for taking the time to read this story.
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Until next time, lots of love & happy reading,
Xo Hazel
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