Page 13 of The Marrying Kind
Maybe volunteering for charity wasn’t the most exciting bucket-list item for most people, but I was excited to be crossing something off. Maybe my whole trip out here wouldn’t be wasted.
Natalie downed the last of her coffee and stood, shaking her finger at Austen. “Don’t forget to take Nana to her bridge game before you head to the market tonight.”
“I won’t.” He gave his mother a peck on the cheek.
When they closed the door behind them, Austen gave me an exasperated look. “Sorry about them. You don’t really have to help her later. She doesn’t hold grudges.”
“No, I really do want to. And I’d love to check out the bees with you.”
He placed our plates into the dishwasher and dried his hands. “All right then. Let me just get dressed and we’ll head out. Do you have a pair of sturdy boots? We got a few inches of snow last night.”
“Do UGGs count?” I asked, nodding to my boots at the door.
He frowned. “Definitely not. Don’t worry. I have another pair you can wear. They’ll be big on you, but they’ll work.”
• • •
When Austen returned from getting ready, he handed me a pair of boots, which I guessed belonged to either his mother or grandmother. They were a little too big for me, but I could tell they would be warm and waterproof, so I was thankful he’d thought to scrounge them up for me.
Apparently, the bees were in his backyard, because he picked up the boxes his brother had brought over this morning and led me down the hill through the backyard.
Since we were walking straight into the woods, this might have been alarming, you know, in the serial killer sort of way. But meeting his mother this morning was very reassuring. They were so kind and normal. I liked my odds.
“So, what kind of job do you have that allows you to travel like this?” he asked me. “’Cause I think I need to take notes.”
“No job right now,” I said.
Thankfully, he didn’t ask me how I was funding this adventure, because talking about my parents’ deaths was still the last thing I wanted to do.
“No job? That must be nice. Anyone back home you’re going to miss? A boyfriend, maybe?”
I chuckled to myself at his question, but just gave him a coy look in reply.
“You listen to any good music during your drive?” he asked, picking up on my cue for him to change the subject.
“Just whatever was on the radio.”
“What did you do for fun before this big adventure?”
“Not much,” I said, answering honestly as I picked my way through the slippery snow, concentrating on not falling on my ass.
“Favorite color?” he asked, stepping easily over a fallen log.
“Don’t have one,” I said as I held my arms out for balance and followed him.
He stopped suddenly then and looked at me over the top of the stack of boxes he carried. His eyes looked even bluer in the sunlight.
“Fine. Tell me one thing. Just one thing about you.”
Had I been a closed book? I wasn’t really meaning to be, but now I felt a little guilty. He’d been such a nice host, and good company too. I decided to give him a good detail. One he’d appreciate.
Taking a breath, I looked right in his eyes as I answered. “I’ve never been in love.”
He smiled at me then—a generous, lopsided smile. My chest fluttered, and my big inappropriate crush raged on.
Awesome.
“Then there’s something we have in common, Ella Westover.”
