Trails of Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Everything? Like, everything you’ve ever wanted or everything I’d expect in a woman you’re with—interesting, funny, smart, outdoorsy, ballsy…”

  “I love that you know me so well,” he said as he drove past the Oak Falls library. It had wide stone steps. Three little girls and a woman sat on a blanket out front leafing through books. Graham pictured Morgyn’s big family doing something like that when they were younger—but he imagined Morgyn twirling and picking flowers in the field behind them.

  “Well, she has to be ballsy to keep up with the crazy shit you and Ty do, and she has to be smart, because you know, you’re you. So…how much everything is she?”

  “I don’t know, Jilly. We just met,” he said, even though he felt like he’d known Morgyn forever. “I thought I’d use this morning to try to separate the hot and hectic lust fogging my brain from the deeper emotions stacking up inside me, but they’re too tangled up to separate.”

  “Wow,” she said, bringing his head back to their phone call.

  Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He ground out a curse and tried to change the subject. “Anyway, you spoke to Zev?”

  “Oh no, you’re not changing the subject on me. Tangled-up lust and something deeper is significant. Even I know that.”

  “Jilly,” he warned, not wanting to be analyzed. He heard the pecking of fingers on a keyboard and assumed she was at work.

  “Don’t Jilly me. My most careful brother has been thrown off-kilter. Let me enjoy Mr. Perfectly Organized and Always Prepared being knocked off his pedestal.”

  “Christ, Jilly. I’m not perfect, and I don’t claim to be.”

  “Well, you never screw up.”

  “You’re nuts. I screw up a lot. Just ask Mom and Dad. I’m sure they can give you a litany of examples. Now can we move on?”

  “Not yet. I’m looking at her Facebook page. Her status says she’s feeling very pink today. Okay, not sure what that’s about, but she’s super cute and I love her style. She’s always smiling. Where does she get her boots? They’re fantastic.”

  He pulled into the auto shop parking lot wondering what feeling pink meant. “She probably made those boots, or rather embellished them. She’s really creative. She makes clothes and jewelry and—”

  “I know! I’m on her Life Reimagined page now. I need to take a trip to Oak Falls. Her stuff is awesome. I can’t believe you won’t be here for my show.” Jillian was introducing a new clothing line, Multifarious, in her annual fashion show next week. She’d rented out an old warehouse, and Graham had worked with her to create floor plans and lighting schematics.

  “I’m sorry, Jilly. Do you want me to cancel my meetings in New York?”

  “No, of course not. Besides, I spoke to Riley, who’s in Colorado with the baby. She said Josh is looking forward to having dinner with you.”

  Their cousin Josh and his wife, Riley, split their time between Colorado and New York. Graham was looking forward to seeing Josh, too.

  “But since you’ll miss it,” Jillian said, “maybe you can make it up to me by doing me a favor. About that bet…”

  “I’m not lying for you to win the bet.”

  “Oh, come on! I’d do it for you,” she pleaded.

  “No way. I’ve got to go. It was good talking to you.”

  “Are you meeting Morgyn?” she asked with a conspiratorial tone to her voice.

  “I’m getting my oil changed; then I’ll see her.”

  Jilly squealed, and he pulled his phone away from his ear.

  “I’m going now,” he said loudly. “Love you.” He ended the call, pulled up Google, and typed what does a pink mood mean in the search bar. The page filled with information on mood rings and the psychology behind the color pink. He typed what does a pink aura mean, hit the search button, and read the first result.

  Pink aura people are natural healers, highly sensitive to the needs of others, and have strong psychic abilities. They are very romantic and once they have found their soul mate will stay faithful, loving, and loyal for life. They hate injustice, poverty, and conflicts and strive to make the world a better place, often making personal sacrifices in the pursuit of this ideal.

  That sounded just like Morgyn, but at the festival she’d said she had a yellow aura—an optimist, spiritually aware, and I’m definitely not a perfectionist. I usually act before I think, and I love exploring new ideas. He searched the meaning of a yellow aura and found that people with yellow auras create a sensation of brightness and warmth and attract those looking for joy and light. Sunshine.

  He took out a pad and pen from his glove box and scribbled down the main points of each aura, so he could try to figure out how they worked together. He started at a knock on the truck window and was surprised to see Sable, wearing an Oak Falls Automotive shirt. He remembered Morgyn mentioning that Sable owned an auto shop.

  As he stepped from the truck Sable said, “Nice wheels, All Nighter. You lost?”

  “No. I need an oil change.” He glanced at the two-story building, from which country music was blaring. The first story was covered in metal automotive signs touting Goodyear, Firestone, Pennzoil, and about a dozen other automotive businesses.

  “Shouldn’t you have done that before you drove here from Maryland?” She stepped back as he closed the door.

  “I have an app on my phone that’s synced to my odometer. It reminds me to change the oil every three thousand miles.”

  “Quite geeky of you,” she said as she walked around his truck. “Better than you having Tinder or some other shit on your phone.”

  Tinder? That was laughable. If she only knew him. The risks associated with online hookups were off-the-charts. “No Tinder, but uh, I get your drift. Think you can fit me in sometime before Friday?”

  “How about now? I’m working on a bitch of an engine repair and could use a break.” She waved to a truck with its hood up in the garage. “Pull into the third bay.”

  “Great, thanks.” He drove the truck into the bay. “This is going to sound weird,” he said as he climbed out, “but can you give me Morgyn’s cell number?”

  Sable looked confused. “Didn’t you stay with her last night?”

  “Yes, but we didn’t exchange numbers and I want to let her know I’m running late.”

  “You act like she has a schedule.” She pulled out her phone and said, “What’s your number? I’ll text it to you.”

  He gave her his number, and she sent the text.

  “Thanks,” he said. “And thanks for fitting me in. I’ll just…” He motioned toward the field beside the shop.

  “Go say sappy things to Morgyn. She loves that shit.” Sable chuckled as he walked away.

  He saved Morgyn’s and Sable’s numbers, and then he called his girl. It went to voicemail. “Hey, sunshine. I’m over at your sister’s shop getting an oil change. I’ll see you soon.” He ended the call, fighting the urge to say more. What else, he wasn’t sure, but see you soon seemed far more appropriate than pouring his heart out over voicemail.

  He saw a patch of wildflowers and walked into the field to pick some for her. His phone rang a minute later, and Morgyn’s name flashed on the screen. “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hi. Sorry. I don’t answer calls from unfamiliar numbers.”

  “Ah, my girl is a risk assessor after all,” he teased, hoping she’d like the flowers he’d picked.

  “I’m a time saver,” she said sassily. “You’re at Sable’s? Do you know how to get here? If you go to the end of her street, then take a right on Main and a left on Arbutus, you’ll see my shop on the left.”

  “Want me to walk over? Pick up my truck later?” he asked as he noticed a few shingles missing from the roof of Sable’s garage.

  “No. It’s okay. I need to walk down to the bank, but I’ll be back by the time you get here. Then you can help me figure out what to do with my business.”

  He still wasn’t keen on the idea of mixing business and pleasure, but a thirty percent
rent hike could throw a small business into a downward spiral, and he wanted Morgyn to succeed. “Sure, sunshine. Whatever you’d like.”

  “Well, what I’d like we can’t do in my shop,” she said seductively.

  Oh man. He had visions of sweeping her merchandise off a display table and making love to her. Heat coursed through his body, and he tried to push away those dirty thoughts, but then she said, “But you do have curtains in your truck…”

  A groan escaped, and Morgyn giggled.

  “I love knowing I can get to you over the phone.”

  “Babe, you get to me in person, on the phone, and I have a feeling if you wrote a fucking letter telling me what you’d like to do, I’d get hard reading it. So let’s keep it to a minimum while I’m at your sister’s shop.”

  “Okay, gotta go,” she said too fast.

  “Customer?”

  “No. I have to find some paper and a pen!” She blew a kiss into the phone and ended the call.

  “Damn, sunshine,” he said to himself. “Just the idea of you scripting your fantasies has got me hot and bothered.”

  To distract himself from thoughts of Morgyn’s fantasies, he focused on the garage.

  By the time Sable was done with the oil change, he’d created a list of items that needed attention.

  “Just a heads-up,” he said as he paid. “I sent you a text with a list of things on the exterior of your building that should be checked out. Nothing major. A few missing shingles, flashing issues, loose siding. And there’s a crack in the foundation that should get repaired before winter.”

  “And you’re delivering that message with flowers?” She smirked, eyeing the wildflowers he’d picked. “If I wanted a man to tell me what to do, I’d be married. Sheesh, Braden. You’re so gaga over my sister it’s coming out your ears.”

  There was no use denying it. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Her eyes turned serious. “She deserves someone to be gaga over her. She’s a diamond in a town of pebbles.”

  “I said something I don’t know,” he said snarkily.

  Sable pointed a wrench at him and said, “She’s got a heart of gold. Break it, and I’ll break that pretty face of yours.”

  He laughed. “Again, that’s not new information.” He looked over her shoulder at a water stain on the wall and said, “You should probably get that stain checked out, too.”

  Sable looked behind her. “Damn it. I just had some renovation work done upstairs. Maybe that happened when they worked in the bathroom.”

  “Usually they turn the water off for that. That’s an old stain, so maybe they fixed whatever caused it. But that’s the type of thing you should get checked out, just to be sure you don’t run into bigger issues down the line. I’d be happy to take a look if you’d like.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll get the guys who did the work back out here. They cost a bloody fortune.”

  “If you change your mind, let me know. And thanks again.” He turned to leave and then he said, “You should have Morgyn barter for you next time. I hear she’s awesome at it.”

  Sable snort-laughed as he walked out the door.

  MORGYN’S SHOP WAS nestled between a florist and a diner. Bright yellow awnings shaded big picture windows. LIFE REIMAGINED was painted in bold blue script on one window with sixties-era flowers and hearts painted around the words. LOVINGLY ENHANCED TREASURES was painted beneath in smaller white print.

  Lovingly enhanced. That fit what she did perfectly.

  On the sidewalk outside the door, several dresses hung from an iron coatrack. A red upholstered chair with brightly colored sunbursts and stars embroidered all over it had a pretty fringed scarf draped over one arm. A few women’s handbags that had been painted and embellished with pretty charms lay on the cushion. Upbeat music drifted out the open front door. He peered inside, catching sight of Morgyn swaying to the beat as she draped several necklaces around the neck of a tie-dyed-bikini-clad mannequin. Morgyn was still wearing his baseball cap—backward—and looked cute as hell. Her short red sundress drifted around her thighs, and she wore a pair of strappy leather sandals that wrapped all the way up her calves.

  As he stepped inside he took in bright yellow and pale blue walls and a ceiling fan with patchwork material adhered to the panels, the center painted bright red. He glanced at the price tag hanging down. $78. His girl was smart not to undersell her wares. To his right, tires hung from ropes with wooden shelves secured inside them, displaying lamps, shoes, vases, and other items—each embellished by Morgyn’s talented hands. One wall featured the front end of four bicycles, each with a brightly colored metal basket attached. The tires were cut in half and secured flush against the wall. The handlebars were painted vivid colors. One basket held billiard balls. The others contained plants, socks, and spools of yarn. They were so unique, he thought about buying one for his mother. There were displays of clothes, shoes, furniture, wreaths, knitted animals—each and every item was unique. The shop was filled with textures and colors and interesting merchandise unlike any he’d ever seen. She offered antiques, but they’d all been enhanced with items not normally found on old things, making them appear chic and new. He could see them in shops in New York City. Morgyn had put her creative touch on everything, and he wanted to take his time exploring all of it. No wonder she needed all that workspace in the barn. Her type of originality should not be limited in any way—including to this space or this small town.

  Morgyn hadn’t noticed him yet. She was singing “Praying” by Kesha. Jillian loved that song, and she sang it with the same vehemence and vigor as Morgyn. Morgyn held her hands up, fingers splayed, making a pushing motion as she sang about hoping someone was praying. Her hand covered her chest as she sang about being proud of who she was—and then she belted out the next few lines, hands fisted, raising them to the ceiling, her hair whipping from side to side. Suddenly she spun around, eyes clenched shut as she sang about hoping someone finds peace and how she prays for them sometimes. She was so passionate about everything she did, he was utterly and completely mesmerized.

  When the song came to an end, she exhaled loudly, her shoulders slumping. She opened her eyes, laughing before she even noticed Graham, as if she had completely entertained herself. He felt like he’d been given a sneak peek at a secret part of her. He closed the distance between them, falling even harder for her.

  The song “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars came on as she lifted her gaze.

  “Cracker,” she said with an embarrassed gasp. Her gaze dropped to the flowers, and that embarrassment turned to appreciation. “You brought me flowers…?”

  Without a word, he took her in his arms and began dancing, singing the lyrics and knowing they were written just for her. She fell into step without hesitation, smiling up at him. After the song ended, he gazed into her eyes and said, “You make my head spin, sunshine.”

  “You make lots of my parts behave in ways they’re not used to. You know that song that Kenny Chesney sings about setting the world on fire? That’s us, without the hotel, and obviously we’re not wherever they were.” She took his hand and walked through the store. “Let’s put these gorgeous flowers in water and I’ll show you around so you can evaluate my business.” She looked at him seductively and said, “I’m really looking forward to hearing your suggestions.”

  He hauled her into his arms again, earning a giggle. “You keep doing that and I’ll drag your pretty ass behind that rack over there and suggest you do all sorts of dirty things.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls whose businesses you evaluate.” She slipped out of his arms and took his hand, but he twirled her into them again, bringing their bodies flush from chest to thighs.

  “I don’t normally mix business with pleasure,” he said as seriously as he could with her rubbing against him. “You’re my exception, and I’m not very comfortable with it. Business can get sticky.”

  “I can feel how uncomfortable you are,” she said with feigned
wide-eyed innocence. “What should we do about that? And just for the record, I happen to be a fan of sticky.”

  “Christ, sunshine,” he ground out as he lowered his lips to hers.

  “Morgyn!” A little boy darted toward them with Chet chuckling behind him.

  “Hold that thought,” Morgyn whispered. Then her brow wrinkled and she said, “For about an hour. Sorry!” She scooped the little boy into her arms and twirled him around. “Hey, Mr. Big Guy.”

  Graham pulled his T-shirt down to cover his arousal. Seeing Morgyn cuddle the sandy-haired little boy who was rattling on about fixing his mother’s favorite beach bag warmed him in a different way. She looked natural with him in her arms, but then again, he had yet to see Morgyn looking less than natural in anything she did. The little boy’s big blue eyes widened as she told him what she had planned for it, which had something to do with beads.

  “Good to see you again, man,” Chet said, shaking Graham’s hand.

  “You too.”

  “Scotty,” Morgyn said as she lowered the little boy’s feet to the ground, “this is my friend Graham, but you can call him cracker if you want.”

  Scotty giggled. “Dat’s a funny name.”

  “He’s a funny guy,” Morgyn whispered.

  Chet gave Graham an I’ve-got-your-back look, which surprised and pleased him.

  “We can reschedule if you two are busy,” Chet offered.

  “Don’t be silly,” Morgyn said. “I’d never let Scotty down. Did you bring my fireman calendar?” She looked at Graham and said, “Chet’s a firefighter. Meadowside and Oak Falls firefighters do a big calendar shoot every year for charity, and we always watch. This year they convinced Axsel to be in it as Mr. December. Chet and all the firemen wore only their turnout pants and boots, and poor Axsel sat in the middle with his guitar trying not to drool.”