Page 99 of Honey Pot

“If I’m honest…” Which I wasn’t sure I could be with someone I barely knew but I slipped my feet into Cael’s shoes and tried.

“Nervous?” She scrunched her nose up and sat down on one of the beds, patting the mattress so I would join her. “Cael has been keeping the information close to his chest, but I think it’s pretty obvious you mean a lot to him.”

I nodded and joined her, not realizing how much I missed Bobbi until I was trauma-dumping in her lap and close to tears. I told her everything, from our past until now, and Zoey just listened. The suspicious feeling that she did that often, for a lot of people, crept up my spine with warmth.

“Wow.” She sighed lightly and absorbed everything. “So you and Cael were practically born to be together in some capacity? I love a fated lovers trope,” she gasped with a smile.

“Or this is the universe's idea of a cruel joke.”

“No.” Zoey shook her head. “It’s a test.”

“A test?”

She swallowed tightly. “Van and I aren’t perfect, you know? Everyone thinks we are because we’ve never had one of those really big fights that couples have, but it’s because we have all the tiny ones. We don’t let it get to us, we just tell each other everything no matter how bad.”

“That’s surprisingly healthy.” A small, feeble laugh left my lips.

“It never feels like it in the moment when we’re hashing things out. It feels wrong and tense, but it’s always worth it, and Van is worth it to me. I guess you just need to decide if Cael is worth it to you.”

“Easier said than done.” I resisted rolling my eyes, but Zoey stopped me with a tiny shake of her head.

“It’s actually easier than you think.” Zoey shrugged, sensing my discomfort. “It’s that feeling in your chest that you can’t tell if it's pain or excitement. It's the butterflies in your stomach you mistake for nausea. It's the relief you get from a cold breeze on a really hot day. And if your first and last thought is him…” She scrunched her nose up at me, her eyes flickering like she was in on a secret I didn’t know yet. “Give this weekend a chance, give yourself a chance.”

She rose from the bed and fixed the tiny rolls of her shirt before leaving the room and me with more questions that I had come in with. I looked at myself in the mirror, a question posed that old Clementine would have had an answer to almost instantly, but one I couldn’t quite figure out.

When I finally found the courage to make my way out to the living room, it felt like the number of people in the cabin had doubled and the sound alone was overwhelming. Zoey’s laughter rang out from the kitchen, where she laughed with Ella and an older lady with soft, graying-brown hair and big eyes lined with crinkles when she smiled.

“Mary,” Ella called me over. “This is Mrs. Shore.”

She held her hand out to me, and I introduced myself.

“So you’re the reporter that had my husband in knots.” She laughed, but there was a hint of pride in her voice. “I like you. I’ve never seen that man so riled up before. I hope that piece you’re writing makes waves.”

It already was.

“I’m having a lot of fun working on it. Harbor has been so generous to me.” I smiled.

“Well, we’re very grateful to have you for dinner.” She smiled back. “Did you not have any family waiting for you back in Texas?” She asked.

“My Mom,” I said quietly. “But she understands that this is important.”

“Well, she sounds like a wise woman.” Mrs. Shore winked at me but her eyes dragged behind me, and what could only be described as a motherly scowl formed on her face. “Cael Cody, get your dirty little fingers out of that!”

The towel snapped as we all turned to see Cael rubbing the back of his hand, mere inches from the frozen bowl of whipped cream on the counter behind us. He popped the cream covered finger into his mouth with a smile and reached out the other hand to me, palm up, possibilities endless.

The rescue was imminent.

I could have sworn Zoey giggled with pride when I took the invitation and Cael pulled me from the kitchen.

“Thank you.” I laughed.

It was weird that after all this time talking to people for my job, it was still so hard to make small talk. I wanted deep conversations with everyone all of the time.

“Where have you been?” He asked, and led me outside.

“Getting settled,” I shrugged.

“You were missing for like half an hour,” he groaned and led me down the back stairs of the porch. He looked back at me for a second, blue eyes watching me carefully. “Andyou’ve been crying.”

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