Page 22 of Odin
He tries to stay impassive, but he fails. From the second he got here with Crow, I could tell that I’d surprised him, but I’m not sure it’s agoodsurprise. I don’t buy that the obvious tension in his shoulders, his rigid stance, and his pulse thrumming in his neck far too quickly, is just him being hypervigilant of anything that might be out here in the woods with us.
Some people don’t like surprises, or being made the center of attention. Maybe I stepped all over bad memories and triggered something from a past that I literally know nothing about.
“In the midst of your own crisis, you thought that the best thing to do would be to plan this surprise for me?”
It’s a relief to hear the humor in his tone, even if his expression remains flat. “Unequivocally yes. And yes, I’m one of those people who truly does say unequivocally. As for a crisis, I’ve been through much worse.”
He nods, understanding that I meant when I lost my dad, not what happened in LA a few days ago.
He unzips the backpack and pulls out the throw blanket from Tarynn. It’s one of those granny ones with hearts and gingerbread houses on it, and a pink and green fringe on the ends. Odin spreads it out, then pulls out the soft lunch box beneath with sandwiches and snacks. We didn’t have time to go get a full blown fancy picnic basket, but that doesn’t mean thatpink lunch bag wasn’t packed with a whole lot of thought and care behind it.
“It seems a little bit… silly,” Odin mutters as he sets the lunch bag down on the corner of the blanket. He adjusts his camera bag, so that it sits neatly beside the backpack. “Celebrating a grown man like you would a five-year-old.”
“Whether you’re a kid or an adult,everyonedeserves to feel special.” I offer that gently. I have no idea what hurt might be underlying that.
He bends to unlace his boots. I tear my eyes away fast, unwilling to get a good look at how his worn soft jeans tighten against his ass.
At least my sandals are the strappy, fashionable kind that are totally impractical for any real hiking. They might have pinched the hell out of my feet all this time, but at least they offer a decent distraction.
“How did you even find out?”
I plop down on the edge of the blanket to undo the rest of the buckles. “Crow told Tarynn and she texted me. After she did, I was way too excited to sleep. Like I said, I’ve never even been camping before. You can blame it on my own selfish desire to see this place if the whole birthday thing makes you uncomfortable. It’s beyond amazing, by the way. Totally worth any and all self-indulgence.”
He scoffs at that. “I don’t think you could be self-anything if you tried.”
“I think everyone can be selfish.”
“This wasn’t about you at all.” He’s known me for less than a day, but he probably knows me better than most people who’ve spent years with me. “You wanted to do this entirely for me. A strange man who you just met, when no one would have blamed you for thinking about yourself.”
“Maybe it’s a good distraction.”
“Doubtful. I think that even though life hasn’t been easy for you, you still have an incredibly kind heart.”
I finally get both my sandals undone and toss them to the side. I swing my bare feet onto the blanket, surveying the damage the straps caused, but they’re only red and far from blistered. I bet that sticking them into that stream would feel divine.
I swivel my legs around, crossing them and yanking my dress down to my knees. “I could say the same about you.”
Odin’s brows shoot up so high that the one even lifts above the edges of his eyepatch. “Is that right?”
“It is,” I insist. “I know that you provided for people for years, even though they didn’t want you in their lives.” I’m worried for a second that I’ve gone too far, but his brows come down. He’s not the kind of man who shies away from the truth. “Odin. When was the last time someone celebrated you? I mean, truly made you the center of attention?”
He leans over his knees, setting his elbows on the tops of them. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”
“I rest my case. Is it truly that bad?”
“No.” His face softens as he turns his face to survey the little space between all the trees. They’re not that tall here,or as thick, so maybe they’re younger. The leaves are dark green, made lighter by the sunbeams that flow through them. Dappled shadows dance across the blanket and spill over both of us. “No, it’s not that bad at all. I love being out here.”
There’s a way that people talk about the things that they truly love. Places that have impacted them strongly, people who have carved an impression into them. A sort of wistfulness that speaks of the fondest memories.
“Tell me about the cabin. How did the club find it? Were you guys looking for something for a while?” I edge my toes over the blanket and wriggle them against the soft moss, surprised to find it so cool.
“That’s kind of a wild story.” He says that with some reluctance, like he’s not allowed to talk about it because it’s club business.
“If you can’t tell me about it, that’s okay.”
“Our old Prez could sometimes be a piece of work.” His jaw clenches so tight that it clicks before he lets go of the tension. He draws a circle with one finger on top of the blanket. “He was a great man that let paranoia and power, I guess, get to him. He believed things were happening when they weren’t. Tyrant banished him and he came back for revenge. Long story short, he actually held his damn son here as a prisoner while his men tortured him. Tyrant has some not so great memories of the place, but he didn’t let that stop him from buying it and the land it was on and using it for good. The whole club often uses it, but if any one person or family wants to come up here, they can.”
“I’m happy that something good could come from something ugly.”
