by Quinn Loftis
“So because I sounded like I believed wood nymphs were real, that makes me off my trolley,” he asked as if what she said was difficult to understand.
“Exactly.”
“You seem happy that I’m understanding your explanation of why you think I’m crazy.”
Her face quickly fell into a frown. “Of course, I’m not happy. I didn’t want you to be crazy. No girl wants the first guy she’s ever been attracted to … to be a nutter.”
“The first guy?” His brow rose in interest.
Dammit! Had she seriously said that out loud? Yes. Yes she had. Apparently, his type of crazy was like Shelly’s type of crazy—contagious. He was infecting her with his wood-nymph madness, and she was word vomiting.
“This year,” she said quickly. “First guy this year. I left that part out.”
“Riiiight,” he said drawing out the word. “How about we drink some water while we work through my alleged madness and your lack of attraction for any male besides myself.” He reached into the backpack he’d been carrying and pulled out a bottle of water. He held it out to her, and Tara took it, making sure their skin didn’t touch. Just breathing the same air as Elias had obviously fried some brain cells. There was no telling what touching him would do. He didn’t miss her avoidance and winked at her. Stupid, handsome, crazy ass.
When she’d had enough, Tara handed the bottle back to him and then hunted for a rock to rest on. He might be crazy, but she didn’t think Elias would hurt her. There was no reason not to enjoy being out in the woods, surrounded by the sight and scents of nature. Just as she was about to plant her rear end down, her phone chimed. She pulled it from her back pocket and saw that it was a text from Shelly.
What are you doing? I’m bored. That means come entertain me.
Tara shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Everything all right?” Elias asked.
She nodded. “Yes, just my lunatic best friend. She’s a different brand of crazy than you,” she said as she texted Shelly back.
Can’t entertain you. I’m hiking … with Elias.
“Five, four, three, two, one.” Tara counted under her breath and chuckled when her phone chimed as she said “One.”
WHAT! Is that a euphemism for something NOT like hiking at all?
I’m shocked you know what a euphemism is let alone how to spell it.
Spell check, bitch.
Tara’s eyes widened and she laughed. Her friend must be irritated if she was resorting to profanity instead of her usual creative insults.
He invited me to hike up to the waterfall. We just got here. And it turns out he’s crazy.
Knew it. Too good to be true. What about Tucker?
I think we both know Tucker is only and will only ever be just a friend.
Be safe, don’t do drugs, make out. Crazy is not contagious through bodily fluids. I know. I researched.
Of course you did. You’re so strange.
#weirdone4life
Tara put her phone back in her pocket and glanced over at Elias. He was leaning against a tree trunk, watching her with the same intensity as always. The humor from earlier was gone. “No worries. Did she have anything interesting to say?”
“If you count her telling me not to do drugs and to make out in the same sentence as interesting, then yes.” Tara took a seat on a rock next to a tree. She scooted back to rest against the trunk. As far as natural seating went, she couldn’t have gotten a better deal. Especially with a waterfall and Elias in her view.
“Did you tell her you think I’m a nutter?” he asked matter-of-factly with no hint of being offended.
Tara shrugged. “She’s my best friend. Even though she was forced on me, I still stick to the BFF code and tell her everything.” She paused and then amended, “Most everything. Everything else she just reads from my diary, apparently.” Tara realized, for the first time, that she’d made a wise decision in never writing about her so called superpower. Though she doubted Shelly would have taken the writing as truth. She would have thought Tara was using her diary as a way to write a fiction story.
Tara rested her head against the tree and watched as Elias took out a pocketknife, picked up a stick, and began to whittle on it.
“Why do you say her friendship was forced on you?” he asked as he turned his focus to his work, giving her a break from his intense stare.
“Because it’s exactly what I mean,” she said. “When I first came to Carol’s, I didn’t really want any friends.”
“You were hurting,” he murmured, his focus still on his work.
She nodded. “I met Shelly the same day I arrived. She decided we were going to be best friends forever and pretty much just inserted herself into any area of my life that she could. I tried to get rid of her, was even mean to her. But she just kept on coming back, like a damn fungus.”
“Do you resent her for it?”
“Of course not. Shelly didn’t befriend me for her own benefit, no matter what she claims. She saw something in me worth salvaging, and she never gave up on me. She still hasn’t.”
“And yet you call her crazy,” he pointed out.
“Being crazy doesn’t automatically disqualify a person from being a friend.”
“What about a lover?”
He asked it as if it was a completely rational question. Once again proving to Tara he was batshit.
She was about to tell him so but got distracted when a squirrel suddenly appeared on Elias’s shoulder. Well, not appeared exactly. It had run straight down the trunk of the tree and hopped directly on his left shoulder.
She gasped, shocked to see one of the usually elusive critters being, well, not elusive. “Is there something wrong with that squirrel?” she asked as she watched Elias reach up and scratch the animal’s head and then return to his whittling. “That’s not normal.” Her eyes widened and she snapped her fingers. “It’s because you’re crazy. Animals love crazy people.”
Elias frowned and looked up from his whittling. “Did you read that on the internet? You know you can’t believe everything you read on the web.”
She huffed. “No. Haven’t you ever watched an animated movie? All those princesses had animals at their command, and those chicks are all off their trolleys, too.” It was a discussion she and Shelly had had many times.
“You’re very passionate about this,” he said, sounding amused. His attention had returned to his work, and the damn squirrel was still sitting on his shoulder. True. Story. “Why do you think all the princesses are crazy?”
“Because no sane person sings that damn much.” Tara settled herself back on her rock, her eyes still on the weird squirrel. “They sing about everything. Look, I’ve found my toothbrush. I’m going to brush my teeth,” Tara sang in her best princess voice. “Here, I’ve found a cockroach. He’s gross but will be my best friend and know all my secrets, and look, he sings, too.” She drew out the last word in a long note, getting louder, and then cut it off abruptly. When she opened her eyes—because all princesses close their eyes when they sing—it was to find Elias, stock still, staring at her. Her eyes shifted to the squirrel, who was also not moving. Tara swore it was staring at her, watching her with more intelligence than the animal should have.
After several more beats of silence, Elias said, “Being outside really frees something inside of you, doesn’t it? You’ve got a very candid vibe going on. I like it. Go with it.”
Tara would probably be horrified later that she’d just sung a ridiculous song and argued for the lack of mental health stability in beloved animated characters. But at the moment, Elias was right. She just felt relaxed, free, and completely at home.
“I still say there’s something wrong with that squirrel,” she said.
“He’s not foaming at the mouth, so I don’t think it’s rabies or anything,” Elias said.
“Mad cow?”
“Doubtful.”
“Bird flu?”
“Not likely.”
�
�Attracted to your crazy?”
“I forgot to tell you that one of my alter egos is a cartoon princess,” he whispered conspiratorially.
She stared at him silently, taking in all the handsome lines of his face, the unusual color of his eyes, just the sheer maleness of him, and sighed. “I really wanted you not to be too good to be true.”
“Bloody hell, woman,” he suddenly growled, pushing off of the tree with his shoulder, causing the squirrel to scamper away. “I’m not a nutter, you beautiful, daft girl. I was just playing about when I said the wood nymphs were crazy for you. You asked how I could know how you looked when I’d been in front of you the entire hike, and so I teased you. That’s what you Yanks call it, right? Teasing? I should have just said that there had been quite a few times when you’d been looking down or away when I’d looked back to check on you and might have noticed more than the fact that you were still behind me.”
Tara’s eyes were wide as she stared at Elias. The last time she’d seen him this worked up was when he’d met Tucker at the job fair. She had gotten used to his flirty playfulness and had forgotten there had been something dangerous and mysterious about him that first day. Now she saw it again. He was a predator and, at the moment, irritated.
“So, you’re not off your trolley?” she asked slowly.
He shook his head and leaned back again, though he didn’t look quite as relaxed as he had before he’d snapped at her. “I’m perfectly sane. Though I don’t know how long I will remain that way considering you seem determined to invent a reason I have to be too good to be true.”
She pursed her lips and then quietly said, “My bad.”
After a few minutes of tense silence, and of Tara watching him work, he blew on his project then scrutinized it. He walked over and held it out to her. A frown still marred his handsome face. “A token to remember this day,” he said.
Tara held up the small carving and laughed. It was a tiny squirrel. The shape was a little rough, but it was definitely a squirrel.
“Am I forgiven then?” she asked, her voice rising just a bit.
He reached out and gently ran a fingertip down the side of her face, his own features softening. “You are. Try to be gentle with me, luv. The male ego is a fragile thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “Where’d you learn to do that?” She motioned to the carving in her hand.
Elias dropped his hand, took a seat next to her, and looked over at the waterfall. “My grandfather. He loved to whittle. He was much better at it than I am.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Pretty sure after the whole ‘it’s attracted to you because you’re batshit crazy,’ I’m undeserving of such a gift.”
“I don’t remember you saying batshit crazy.”
“That’s because I said it in my head.”
“You do realize you are the one who burst out in song, in the forest, with a guy and an animal, and yet you were calling me the crazy one, right?” he asked.
When he put it like that… “Shelly would be so proud.” She shook her head at herself and then slipped the carving into her pocket, pushing it deep so it wouldn’t fall out.
Elias laughed. He leaned his body against hers, and Tara felt the heat from the top of her head all the way to the tips of her toes. After settling in, he didn’t move away. His left side from shoulder to knee pressed against her right side. It was like a half-side-body-hug without the arms. Okay, so maybe he was saner than her. Half-side-body-hug, Tara? She mentally kicked herself. What is wrong with you?
They sat in that spot, sometimes talking, sometimes just watching the falling water, for several hours. Tara couldn’t believe how easy it was to be with him. Even when she believed, for that very brief moment in time that he was actually crazy, being with him, talking to him, had been as natural as breathing. It was as if they’d known each other for years instead of days.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, right this second, where would you go?” Elias asked her as he pulled two wrapped sandwiches from his backpack. “I figured we’d get hungry,” he added as he passed her one.
“Thank you.” She took the food and then considered his question. “I’ve seen pictures of New Zealand. It looks magical with all the lush, green, rolling hills. Sort of like something out of a fairy-tale. That’s where I’d want to go. What about you?”
He stared at her, brow raised. “Something out of a fairy-tale, and you gave me shite about wood nymphs?”
She couldn’t help but laugh and appreciate his good sense of humor.
He shook his head, a small grin on his face, and then continued. “I’d go to New Zealand, too. It reminds me of the hills where I grew up.”
Tara took a bite of the sandwich. It was just turkey, nothing fancy, but she was hungry, and that made it the best turkey sandwich she’d ever had. “This is great,” she said.
“I’m glad you like it.” It was a simple statement, but she could tell he really meant it.
After they were done eating and the trash and water bottles were packed back up, Elias stood and held out his hand to her. “We should probably start heading back.”
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. When she began to pull away, Elias entwined their fingers and held on. He didn’t say anything as he started back down the path, and Tara wasn’t about to let go. She liked the way his larger hand engulfed hers. It made her feel safe to be so close to him, and she really liked that he’d been the one to initiate the contact. It made her feel wanted.
They were about halfway back when the wind picked up. Tara looked up and noticed there were dark clouds forming overhead. “I didn’t think there was rain in the forecast today,” she said. She’d specifically checked the weather app on her phone when they’d arrived at the trail.
Elias had stopped. He was frowning up at the sky. “There wasn’t.”
Thunder boomed across the sky, and the temperature dropped suddenly. She shivered as the tree limbs swayed in the near-violent wind. The blowing leaves sounded like loud applause, and the once-peaceful forest now seemed sinister.
“We need to go,” Elias said, his voice low and laced with anger. She didn’t understand why he was angry, and she didn’t have time to ask because he started running, pulling her behind him. His legs were long and hers were not, which made it especially difficult to keep up. As they ran, the sky opened up, and cold rain pelted them. In seconds, Tara was soaked, her hair matted to her head, her clothes sticking to her skin, and her socks squishing in her wet shoes. But that really was the least of her worries. The biting rain was turning to hail.
The missiles disguised as ice beat at her head, face, and body. In short, it hurt. She heard Elias curse under his breath and quicken his pace. Tara forced her feet to move faster, but the ground had turned to slick mud, making it hard for her to find purchase. Somehow, maybe by sheer will alone, they made it to his car without falling.
Elias quickly opened the passenger’s side door and helped her in. He closed it, but instead of hurrying around to get in the driver’s side, he walked to the front of the car, looking back the way they’d just come. His back was to her so Tara couldn’t see what he was doing or what he was seeing. His hands fisted at his side, and his shoulders seemed to tense as he pulled them back. Finally, he turned and stalked to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“What was that?” she asked as he started the car.
“I thought I saw someone in the woods,” he said, backing out of the parking spot and pulling out onto the road. “I wanted to make sure if it was someone that they didn’t need help.”
“But no one was out there?”
He shook his head. His hands were tight around the steering wheel. The hail was still beating down, pinging on the hood and roof of the car.
“Was it just me, or was that weird?” Tara said, feeling like a broken record after having said the same thing about the squirrel. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Bloody hell, you’re
cold,” he said as if he thought he should have realized it sooner. He turned on the heat. “Sorry about that.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, though she wondered what her face would look like after the hail beating it had taken.
By the time they reached her house, the hail and rain had stopped, and the sky was clearing. It was the strangest spring storm she’d ever seen. She started to get out of the car, but Elias grabbed her hand and stopped her. She turned to look at him, and her breath caught at the worried look in his eyes.
“Are you all right? I wanted to check the minute I got in the car, but I was in a hurry to get us out of there.” He reached his hand up and ran his knuckles across her face, just a whisper of a touch. “Your face is red from the hail,” he said as his jaw clenched. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Elias,” Tara assured him. “You can’t control the weather. And there wasn’t any warning that there was going to be bad weather or else you wouldn’t have suggested we go on a nature hike. Unless you’re an idiot. Are you an idiot?”
“I’d actually rather you think I was batshit crazy than an idiot. Damn, you’ve got a wicked tongue, little bear,” he muttered and then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I imagine you’ll want to take a shower and get warm.”
Move those lips a little lower and I’ll be plenty warm. A rush of heat moved up her face. She needed to get out of the car. Wet Elias was doubly dangerous. “Warm would be good,” she agreed.
“I’ll call you later, ” he said, holding her chin so she looked at him.
“I might answer. If I’m not busy.”
He shook his head as his lips turned up in a crooked smile. “Perhaps I should call you a vixen instead of a little bear. Or even better, I’ll call you my princess.”
