Page 64 of Off the Beaten Path

I glance down at my outfit, a long flowy white skirt and an oversized sweater paired with my boots. I considered changing after the day in the fields with Holden and June, but this felt comfortable and it helped to ease my nerves. I shouldn’t have worried, though, because Jodi looksdelighted.

“Thanks, Jodi. Can I help with anything?”

She beams, eyes landing on Holden’s, and I can almost hear her saying that Mia never offered to help. I haven’t spent a lot of time around Holden and his mother together, but I’ve been around Jodi enough to hear her complain about Holden’s ex-wife.

“You and June can help Finley and me,” she says. “Give Holden a little break.”

“I can help,” Holden interjects.

Jodi rolls her eyes. “I know that well enough, son. I’m just not asking you to.”

I think I hear Holden mutter something likewomenunder his breath, and it takes everything inside me not to laugh. I shoot him a glance over my shoulder and catch the twitch of his lips beneath his beard.

We follow Jodi into the kitchen, where Dean Martin is playing softly over the speakers, and Holden makes a beeline for the back porch after Jodi motions for him to get out of the room.

“Hey, Wren,” Finley says from where she’s stirring something in a deep pan on the stove. It looks like some kind of creamy veggie pasta, and my mouth waters just looking at it. Her short blond hair is pulled back in a stubby ponytail and she’s got no makeup on today. Finley is one of those people who looks even prettier without makeup, with naturally sun-kissed skin and candy apple cheeks. I want to be her when I grow up.

“Hey, what can I help with?”

“You can toss the salad,” Jodi says. “I was just finishing cutting up a tomato for it.”

“Can I help?” June asks, her little hand still folded in mine.

I grin down at her. “Absolutely. You’ll probably need to show me how to do it. I’m not sure if I know how.”

The look she gives me is brighter than sunshine on a summer day, and when I look back up at Jodi and Finley, they’re watching us with soft expressions on their faces that I can’t quite decipher.

As June and I add the remaining ingredients to the salad and toss it with a homemade dressing that I learned from Stevie, Finley and Jodi pepper me with questions about work and the cabin, although they’re careful not to bring up Holden and me. I’m guessing it’s more for June’s benefit than mine, but I’m glad for it. I don’t know how to explain how I feel about Holden in a way that doesn’t feel cliché. Like the end of a sappy rom-com movie when everything feels right and perfect, although theyjustgot together.

That’s how I feel all the time.

“Hello, ladies,” a male voice says from behind us, and I turn to see Grey. “And Finley.”

Beside me, Finley rolls her eyes and turns back to the dishes she was rinsing in the sink, ignoring him.

“Where’s Holden?” he asks.

“On the back porch,” Jodi answers. “Will you tell him dinner is ready?”

A few minutes later, we’re all sitting down to dinner, June on one side of me, Holden on the other, his thigh pressed against mine under the table. Despite my nerves, everything about it feelsnaturaland right. I don’t know whether I should be elated or anxious about how easy it feels to slip into this family.

“Wren said she thinks you’ll be able to finish the cabin in time?” Jodi asks, looking at Holden across the table as we all dig into dinner.

I was right about the veggie pasta. It’s a pasta primavera with a creamy Alfredo sauce that has been making my mouth water for the last fifteen minutes while we finished up making dinner.

“Looks like it,” Holden says. “We’re probably going to have to work extra for the next three weeks, but I think we should be able to finish by the deadline. Plus, June has graciously agreed to help.”

“Daddy said I can paint,” June says proudly from beside me.

“Is that right?” Jodi asks, grinning at June. “I bet you’re going to be a big help.”

June nods. “I think Daddy and Wren need some help. They’re so tired after working all day. They always lay on top of each other on the couch and take naps after they think I’ve gone to bed.”

Holden chokes on his drink, and I can feel red singeing its way up my neck as three sets of knowing eyes swivel to us, identical smirks on their faces.

“Sounds exhausting,” Finley says dryly.

“That’s my favorite way to nap too,” Grey pipes up.

---