Page 45 of Beauty and the Beard

“You’re right. We’d never have met.”

“I only have a week left.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do, Leaf.”

His words take my breath away. Is he thinking about staying? Do I try to convince him? Fuck.

“I don’t know either Sasha.”

He places his hand on my cheek and his eyes swim with so many emotions. I’m only just pulling myself out of the same confusing pool of conflict, but one thing has been on my mind since this morning.

“Would you still like to see my place?” laughing softly, I take his hand to my lips. “I want you to see where I live in the lodge and what I call home.”

Sasha leans up and kisses me on the cheek so tenderly I fear he might say no.

“I would love to. Does it come with breakfast?”

My heart stutters and trips as he bites his pink lip and I take a huge leap. Trusting that these past few weeks haven’t been in vain and I’m ready to live a life again.

“I’ll even serve it to you in bed.”

His smile is sweet and shy. “Then I accept and request pancakes with that delicious syrup you make.”

I pull him to his feet and together we weave our way through the park and back to my truck at the Log Jam. There’s so much we need to work out and say and yet… do I tell him what I feel with him only here for a short while?

For the first time since Connor died, I’m ready to take my life back. And I’d like to do it with Sasha.

But do I risk breaking my heart again?

Chapter 13

Sasha

Leaf has been nothing short of incredible tonight. He brought me to a bar where I know I stood out like the spaghetti stain on your white shirt, but Leaf didn’t bat an eye. He laughed with me, not at me, when I snatched up chicken wings like they were the last meal of my life.

And he called me baby in front of his brother. I don’t think I’ll ever get that out of my head. A single word has never made me feel so special. So cherished when it’s given by Leaf.

But learning about Violet’s connection to him and hearing about Connor and the park named after him was by far the most intimate of details Leaf could share. It’s been overwhelming, but the picture of the man Leaf really is has become clearer. It’s a picture I fear I may like too much.

My knee bounces as he parks in his space on the other side of the lodge. It’s not the main lot where I was dropped off here in a clunky school bus what feels like forever ago.

“I thought the bit of worn grass was a path for deliveries or something.” Glancing out the truck window, there’s a tiny deck and railing with a light on above a very home-like door. A singlerailing planter filled with pink wave petunias spills over and makes me smile. It’s a hint at the soft side of Leaf.

“Did you plant those?”

His teeth flash in the darkness of the truck cab, and his small chuckle sets my heart pounding.

“Every year. I choose a different colour every spring, though, to change it up. Those are called Pink Ladies. Pretty, right?”

His soft gaze finds mine and I know he doesn’t just mean the flowers.

“Yes, they are. Pretty and resilient.”

He tips his head in agreement and I break his gaze, finding the door handle so I can step out and take a breath.

We meet on his porch step and he absently plucks a few dead blooms from the flowers. I shouldn’t be so enthralled with the way he tends to a planter of flowers, but I am. Everything Leaf does is with care and concern, and this is no different.

---