Page 49 of Where We Bloom

She reaches for my hand, and I feel everything in me go still.

I’m always the one to reach for her. She never initiates physical contact with me, so seeing her hand reach out for mine has my heart hammering.

“For a couple of reasons,” she continues as if she didn’t just turn my life upside down. “First of all, we literally live in the woods. We could walk twenty feet and go camping.”

“Do you enjoy camping?”

She wrinkles her nose. “And that’s number two. Ihatecamping. Spend the day outside, doing whatever? Fine. I can do that. But I do not ever want to sleep outside.”

“I don’t either.”

She looks my way, her eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Aye, I have a perfectly good bed to sleep in at night.”

“Exactly.” She nods once. “Also, I know this makes me sound, I don’t know, weak maybe?—”

“You’re not weak.”

“But I don’t like getting dirty. I didn’t enjoy living on a farm. It’s sweaty, dirty work, and I don’t like it. My brother can have it.”

“That’s not weak,” I reply, rubbing my thumb in a circle against her soft skin. “I don’t particularly enjoy dirty work, either. I work my arse off, but I don’t get filthy while doing it.”

“Same.” She sighs and leans her head back on the seat. “Oh, I forgot my water bottle at home.”

“Here.” I let go of her hand and open one of the coolers in the back, pulling out a bottle of water for her, and she wrinkles that nose again. “What is it?”

“Nothing, thank you.”

“No.” I pull the bottle out of her reach. “You made your disgusted face.”

“I don’t have a disgusted face.”

“Aye, you do, bumble. And you made it. Tell me why.”

“I just don’t love that particular brand of water, that’s all. But I’ll drink it because I’m thirsty.”

“It’s just water.”

Her eyes go wide as I crack the top for her and pass it over.

“No. That’s where you’re wrong. All of the different brands of water taste different. Haven’t you noticed that?”

“I can’t say that Ihave, no.”

“Well, I have.”

“And this one isn’t to your liking?”

“Not particularly.” She drinks down several gulps and secures the lid once more. “But that’s better. My throat was dry. Want some?”

She offers me the bottle, and with my eyes on hers, I take it, unscrew the lid, and place my lips where hers just were, tipping it back to drink.

It tastes fine to me.

“Shall we stretch our legs? There’s a path over there.”

“Sure.” She pushes her sunglasses back on and waits for me to round the hood to help her down.