by Shaye Marlow
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Helly hollered. “Just give up already. Accept your fate!”
“Never!” Bigfoot Zack yelled, and made a break for it.
Gary’s dart missed, and we all turned to stare at him as Zack’s legs churned, and Bigfoot booked it across the clearing. “What?” he said. “There was a gust.” He licked his finger, then stuck it in the air, testing the wind.
Meanwhile, Bigfoot Rory thrust his hands skyward.
“Oh, sure,” said Helly. “‘A gust.’ You know, if you don’t think you can make the shot, I’d be happy to—”
Gary held the gun away from her grasping hands. “Ah-ah-ah. You have your own gun,” he said. “If you wanted to be doing the shooting, you should have thought ahead, and brought it.”
Helly crossed her arms. “But it’s pink,” she complained. “The fucking dart gun that you fucking got for me is fucking pink…”
The little grin on Gary’s face as he listened to her whine made it pretty damn clear he’d gotten it for her knowing she’d object to the color.
“…and I’m not sure how you think I can fucking concentrate, with that pink piece of shit so close to my face.”
The fleeing Bigfoot was getting smaller and smaller as he approached the trees.
I cleared my throat. “Guys?” I said, jerking my thumb toward our escapee.
“My god, that one just doesn’t quit,” Tim said.
“He’s like the Terminator,” Helly agreed.
“Or Freddy Krueger,” I said.
“Or the Energizer Bunny,” Thea volunteered. “He just keeps going, and going, and g—oh.”
Gary’d shot him. Our Bigfoot nose-dived into a big stand of devil’s club, making us all wince.
Tim keyed his mic and spoke while looking at Rory, who’d swept off his mask. “Guidefather, this is Tiny Tim. Come in.”
“Go for Guidefather,” was Ed’s terse reply.
“Targets acquired.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
J.D.
We got my brothers back to their cabin—Gary took them, so they wouldn’t be tempted to jump out—and then I had my hands full keeping the locals from killing them, again. Once everyone had cooled down enough to begin informing Zack and Rory of their punishment, I realized Thea had slipped away. But I couldn’t go after her, because I’d been drafted to play prison guard overnight, to make sure my brothers didn’t try to escape.
I laid down to sleep, but couldn’t, again. It wasn’t just that I was back in the cabin, back on the couch. It was this business with Thea, which had been left completely unfinished. Our talk that evening had been promising, but I hadn’t actually gotten the opportunity to say what I needed to.
After mulling over it for a while, I made the decision suddenly. Brothers be damned—I needed to see her, needed to finish telling her I loved her. I sat up, then hesitated. Glanced at the clock… Midnight. She would be fast asleep, and considering how early in the morning she got up, I didn’t want to wake her. I could wait till morning, if I had to… I guess.
The night wore on, and as I tossed and turned, my sense of urgency grew. I needed to tell her before… before… Well, anything could happen. She could die tomorrow. Hell, I could die tomorrow. A handsome fisherman could drop in, and she could make him a peppermint hot chocolate, which he’d actually drink. Or Wreck could take her out looking for Bigfoot, and say just the right things, and show her how they did it in France.
I have to tell her, I thought, sitting up. But, it was one in the morning.
I was bursting with nervous energy, filled with the knowledge that this declaration could change my life—would, if Thea felt the same way. We’d be together, loving and laughing every day. I’d follow her to Oregon, so: new house. New coach. I’d come home to her every night, we’d possibly get married. Holy hell… kids.
Or, on the flip side, I’d be alone. I’d fight, alone. Sleep alone—while thinking about Thea.
That thought finally drove me off the couch. I had to do something. Thought about playing video games—wound up in the kitchen, instead.
Cupcakes. She’d said she loved cupcakes.
I started rummaging, finding the flour, the sugar, and next to them, cocoa powder. Eggs, butter. Oil.
Problem was, my brothers didn’t have a cupcake pan.
I dialed Helly.
“Tell me they didn’t escape again,” she growled by way of greeting.
“No, no,” I said. “I need a cupcake pan.”
There was a long silence on the line.
“Do you and Gary have a cupcake pan?” I asked, digging around in my brothers’ spice cabinet.
“Uh.” I heard some movement on her end, a clatter. “Yes. Yes, we do.”
I pulled out the salt and cinnamon. “How about sprinkles? Do you have any sprinkles?”
“J.D., you realize it’s 1:30 in the morning, right?”
“I’m making cupcakes for Thea.” Sitting down at my brothers’ computer, I typed ‘cupcake recipes’ into Google.
“Cupcakes with sprinkles,” she said.
“Naturally. And flavors, if you have them. Lemon extract?”
“Hmm. I have cupcake papers. You want those?”
“Yes!” I scrolled down the page. “Do you have any shredded coconut? What about zucchini?”
“Dammit… no. Let me call Suzy, and I’ll send Gary over with what I have. I need to go back to bed. I’m guiding tomorrow. Was there anything else?”
“Nope. Thank you!”
Half an hour later, I had two boxes of supplies, and two coerced fiancés. “Thank you guys,” I said, digging through the things they’d brought. “Sorry about that. Have a good night.”
“Not so fast,” Gary said. He’d found a bag of potato chips on the counter, and used it to gesture toward the oven. “Whatcha got in there?”
“Vanilla cupcakes.”
Ed and Gary exchanged glances. “I think I’ll stay for a cupcake,” Ed said. “You need any help?”
“Sure. You wanna grate the zucchini?” I asked as I measured cocoa into the next batch.
“I want a cupcake, too,” Gary said, then wandered over and booted up my PS4. Borderlands popped up.
“Chocolate’s next?” Ed asked.
“Yes, with a chocolate ganache.”
“Well, shit. I’ll need to take some of those back to Suzy.”
From the couch, Gary sighed. “These cupcakes are for Thea?”
“Yep, I’m taking them to her in the morning.”
“Early?”
“Five.”
“Well, how about I crash on your couch,” Gary said. “That way, I don’t wake Helly coming back home—she’s like a pissed-off badger in the mornings—and I’ll make sure your brothers don’t escape while you go and get the girl. Sound okay?”
“It sounds awesome,” I said, wondering how un-manly it would be to go and give him a big hug.
“Anything else?” Ed asked, looking at me over a pile of shredded zucchini.
“Well, if you’d like to shred three cups of carrots…” I handed him the bag, thinking he deserved a hug, too.
After whipping up the chocolate, I started getting inventive. Pumpkin spice, zucchini. Ed left as I was sliding the carrot cupcakes in. Then coconut, red velvet, lemon…
By the time I was making the frosting to match, it was four. Gary was snoring, and the sky was lightening with the beginnings of dawn. By the time I’d carefully topped the cupcakes and administered sprinkles, it was just shy of five.
I cleaned up one of the cupcake trays and placed one of each type into a cup.
Then I picked up the phone. I knew I was taking a chance, calling someone at such an hour, but they were old, dammit, and aren’t these the type of hours old people keep?
Harv answered on the second ring.
THEA
“You all’re here early,” I observed.
Suzy waved a tiny hand. “Oh, you know me. Just couldn’t wait another moment for my mor
ning latte,” she said breezily.
“And I, uh, was in the mood for something special, before I take my clients fishing,” Helly said from behind her.
I leaned to one side, meeting Gram’s eyes where she was trying to hide behind the other two. “And what about you? You don’t even drink fancy coffee.”
“Just getting caught up on the neighborhood gossip,” Dotty said.
“At five in the morning?”
“Well… yes.”
I narrowed my eyes at the whole lot of them. “Something’s going on.”
Suzy shook her head vigorously, Helly did an excellent zombie impression, and Dotty was suddenly very busy with her phone. Which, of course, was ridiculous—my grandmother glued to her phone like a teenager, ha!—and really cemented the fact that the whole situation stank. And now they were all gazing at me expectantly, as though waiting for me to do something.
At first, I thought the music was coming from Dotty’s phone. It sounded like something from my grandparents’ era, just slow and simple and heartfelt. Then a voice joined the guitar, and I recognized the song. Can’t Help Falling In Love, Elvis Presley.
It was a strange version, though, no piano. Just guitar, accompanied by a gorgeous voice, but not Elvis’, and not my grandfather’s. The voice was slightly muffled, instead of tinny, like it would have sounded coming from a phone. And if that voice had been coming from Dotty’s phone, then it probably wouldn’t have sounded like it was coming from behind me.
My heart started to thump.
Something was off. I wouldn’t have called it ‘wrong’, as no one could ever call that voice ‘wrong’. Instead, it was beautiful, so incredibly deep and swoon-worthy. And… familiar.
Suzy was grinning at me. Behind her, Helly was doing the same.
My eyes grew wide.
Dotty made shooing motions. “Go on, dear. Look out the window.”
Oh my god. Oh my god. I crossed to the window on auto pilot, and looked out. Oh, my God.
J.D. was out there. He was out there on the lawn, in the soft dawn light, and he was holding something. His eyes were on me, and his mouth was moving in time to that singing voice, and my grandfather was next to him, picking out a melody on his guitar.
I fumbled at the window, trying like mad to get it open. When I finally did, his words poured over me.
“And I can’t help… falling in love… with… you,” J.D. sang, holding my gaze, meaning every word.
My face cracked into what felt like the biggest smile of my life, and my hands were over it, and my heart was thumping even harder, and I felt tears gathering in my eyes.
“Shall I stay?” he sang, and then that wonderful line again, telling me he couldn’t help what he felt for me, that he loved me.
I was trembling all over as he explained, “Like a river flows surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be…” And I knew how Dotty’d felt, poised in that doorway, listening, being serenaded.
There was just too much distance between us. I couldn’t stay in that window. I had to go to him.
The women in line were laughing as I booked it around the counter. I can only assume they followed me out the door, not that I was thinking or caring about that. As I rounded the building, I only had eyes for J.D.
And him, for me. “Take my hand,” he sang. “Take these cup… cakes, too.”
He was holding out that thing he held, and it was a tray, and it was full of cupcakes. A dozen of them, in different colors, all beautifully done-up with frosting and sprinkles, and looking like love itself.
I threw myself at him, and like Harv had done with his guitar, he managed to get the beautiful cupcakes out of the way before I plowed through them.
J.D.’s free arm closed around me, and he crooned his next lines to the top of my head, his deep voice vibrating through me in a way that was just as delicious as I knew it’d be. Laughing and crying, I looked up at him, getting lost in his eyes as he sang to me, told me to take his hand, and his whole life, too.
“For I… can’t… help… falling in love… with… you,” he said, and it was there in his eyes for all to see.
J.D. loved me!
He sang me the end of the song, saying it again, his arms tightening as the guitar picked out the last lingering notes.
I couldn’t contain myself anymore. I kissed him, pulling his head down to smoosh our lips together. It was a sloppy kiss, full of emotion and tears, and more about closeness than tongue. Nevertheless, it took my breath away. He took my breath away.
We fit together, like two pieces of a crazy puzzle.
“I love you, Thea,” he said when he was finally able. “I would love you here, I would love you there, I would love you… anywhere.”
I smiled up at him, feeling… just feeling. I was overcome by the strength and depth of emotion I had for him, and that he would do something like this for me.
“Would you, could you, let me stay with you, let me follow you?” he asked, his voice a low whisper against my lips. “Would you, could you, let me love you?”
“Yes,” I said, my hands on his cheeks, caught in a state of absolute, utter delight. “Yes, I would. I could.”
His hand was on my waist, curved there with familiarity and care. “I brought you cupcakes,” he said, making me laugh out loud. “There’re two types of chocolate. The ones with crushed candy canes on top have peppermint in them.”
He’d remembered! “Thank you. They’re wonderful. You’re wonderful,” I gasped. I hugged him as relief flowed through me, as I began to realize he wasn’t leaving, that he was staying, and he’d be close enough for me to hug for a very, very long time. And yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to let go of him.
“I also brought you a hook, for your birds,” he mumbled into my hair. “An actual ceiling hook, and I’d be happy to hang them back up for you.”
I squeezed him tighter. “I’d love that,” I said, thinking he had to be the sweetest, most thoughtful man I’d ever met.
“Well?” Dotty’s voice filtered in through our embrace. “Don’t keep the poor boy waiting.”
I hadn’t said it, had I? It seemed impossible that I hadn’t given voice to the emotion swelling inside me, but… stranger things had happened.
I leaned back to look up at him. “I love you, Jesse Danger.”
The smile that creased his face took my breath away. Behind me, Suzy, Helly, and my grandmother had started to cheer. Even my stoic grandfather broke into a big grin.
“I’d love it if you stayed with me and followed me,” I continued, loving the color of J.D.’s eyes. “And, I’d love to have one of your cupcakes.”
“I made you a dozen,” he said. “And they’re all different.”
I laughed. “Then, I’d love to sample them all.”
He swallowed me with his hug, and rained kisses on my hair.
Caught against his chest, folded in the warmth of his arms, with the knowledge that he would be here all week, and all month, and come with me when I left, to fill my life with love and laughs and dancing and explosions and passion and—not gonna lie—the best freaking orgasms, ever… I smiled.
Epilogue One
J.D.
“So, a master’s in psychology, huh?” Thea asked, layering the nut mixture with the phyllo.
“Yep. It’s my back-up plan, for when I get too old to fight.”
“What made you choose it?”
“I like to work with people,” I said, grinning at her droll look. “People are interesting,” I amended, having turned from my pot of simmering honey to watch her.
“Too true.” She was beautiful today, as always. Her hair was glowing, her body graceful under her pretty clothes. Her hands, deft… “Gary, for example. I can’t believe he flew all the way to town for the phyllo dough. In a helicopter.”
“He said Helly was very grateful for the cupcakes—” I saw that she did, indeed, catch my drift “—and that he’d kill for some baklava. But, not literally,” I h
astened to add.
She frowned at me, then shook her head. “And you,” she said, pointing a nutty finger at me. “I can’t believe you’re going to share your brothers’ penance.” She placed the last sheets of dough, then picked up a sharp knife and started making slices down through the dessert.
“They did it for me,” I said. “All of this stupidity, the Bigfoot nonsense… They were trying to help me.”
“You’re gonna try to tell me that last run was for you?” She lifted an auburn brow I made a note to nibble on later. I stood aside, and she slid the unbaked baklava into the left side of the oven.
“Well, not all,” I said, remembering Mitzi. “Most.” My gaze was unabashedly glued to Thea’s butt.
“Aha. Perfect.” She pulled out the glass 9x13 to the right, the pastry it contained identical except for its toasted golden-brown color. She set it on the burner next to my saucepan of simmering honey.
“You ready for the honey, honey?” At her nod, I lifted the pan and poured it slowly, evenly over the dessert. We both watched as it sizzled and crackled.
Helly stuck her head in as I was distributing the last of it. “Come on,” she said. “What is taking so long? We have a Choose Your Own Adventure to finish.”
“Give us just a couple more minutes,” I said.
“Bring the baklava when you come. Here, I’ll get the plates and forks.”
I nodded, and Helly went back out into the evening.
“So,” I said, looking at Thea. “Still believe in Bigfoot?”
“They did see one when we were after the brothers,” she pointed out.
“Alleged,” I said.
“Nonono,” Thea said, planting a hand on her hip, and poking a finger in my chest. “That’s not how this works, honey. If we’re gonna be an item, you need to at least admit there’s a possibility that Bigfoot is real.”
“You have nuts on your cheek,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at me.
“You’re really sexy when you bake,” I tried, brushing the fine nut-dust away. Ten seconds of being pinned under her stare later, I heaved a sigh, and capitulated. “Fine. You’re not being completely unreasonable about my fighting—” no idea why her eyes had gone downright squinty “—so the least I can do is concede the possibility that Bigfoot exists.”
