Fall Shook Up

by Piper Sheldon

“We pay fake tribute to pretend lives that nobody has and then bully ourselves for not living up to those expectations.”

“I’m furious at Kevin. I hope he’s forever stubbing his toe on the bed frame and catching his pockets on door handles,” he said in his soft, cajoling tone.

I'm this level of petty lol

I smiled as another threat of tears hit. “Okay. Okay. Stop trying to make me cry in front of strangers.” “God. Imagine having feelings and people seeing them,” he said with mock horror.

“It’s like I feel simultaneously too soft and too hard for this world. I can’t let people in but somehow still manage to feel hurt by them all the time,” I said.

“Come on, Rip.” I knelt and started to unzip the sweatshirt that was sewn diagonally across my chest. I flicked a nervous glance at Claire, who watched with amused confusion as Ripley finally left her side and ran at me full speed. She leaped into the kangaroo pouch and situated herself as she’d done a hundred times before. I zipped her up as I came back to standing. “Stop. It’s too much.” Claire pressed a hand to her chest. I couldn’t tell if she was laughing at me or with me. I shrugged sheepishly. “I do what I can to keep her warm. She gets cold easily.” “I would love it too.” She flopped her hand and blinked rapidly. “I mean, if I was an almost hairless ten-pound dog.” The image of scooping up Claire and holding her for warmth flashed through my head before I quickly pushed it away.

“I can’t believe not five minutes ago, I worried you were a serial killer. No offense.” She brought both her hands to her temples, pressing her thumbs and forefingers to the corners of her face, eyes wide and head shaking.

This whole interaction had caught me by surprise. This wasn’t who I was. She tricked me. She stole my dog and disarmed me with her soulful eyes and raw vulnerability. Okay, that wasn’t entirely fair. Ripley really was a ho for hugs.

“It’s more about the tradition. I know we’re weirdly close. But we’re all we’ve got. Or at least he’s all I’ve got. Now. Besides my career. I’m going to stop talking. I promised I wouldn’t do all that again.”

Keeping a young woman from her father. Really, Levi? “I know most people don’t understand my father and I being so close. Oh, good, I’m still talking. It’s because you’re being stoically nonverbal. It’s very triggering to me.”

I made the mistake of looking at her again, noting her big, sad brown eyes hiding a self-deprecating grimace. She looked so … alone. Or maybe I was projecting.

Another bizarre interaction with the supposed grumpy recluse, and I’d been left as confused as ever. His offer to let me use his phone was amazing, but it didn’t jibe with the man who wrote the listing or who I’d interacted with. Every conversation was more confusing than the one before. To be fair, I wasn’t exactly the consistent overthinker I usually came off as. I’d cried more in front of Levi in barely three days than I had with Kevin in three years.

I waved hello brightly with a burst of adrenaline at having company. He lifted his chin in a sort of acknowledgment before awkwardly looking away. We were basically besties.

Only then did I realize I’d been about to reach up and touch his face, so enthralled by him that I was. That wouldn’t have been weird or crossing any boundaries at all. I dropped my hand and stepped back to give him some space. His shoulders relaxed. “You shaved,” I said, using all my genius investigative skills as a journalist to break the tension. “Oh. Yeah.” He ran a hand over his chin. “It’s been known to happen.” He tucked his head, cheeks flushing, and stepped to open the bed of the truck.

As if it were nothing more than a package of warehouse paper towels, Levi wrapped his arms around the whole massive lump and lifted it. Muscles in his forearms, biceps, and shoulders all engaged, flexing with the momentum as he leveraged it out of the truck with a masculine grunt. A sound that I would not be forgetting any time soon. Today, I learned that forearms with popping veins are a breathtaking sight to see in real life.

His shoulders relaxed as he stepped toward one corner and began to explain his whole process, from looking for a good wood—heh—to the tools he used and how he worked with the natural flow of material. His hands were deep in his pockets as he spoke slowly, with quiet, bridled passion at first. As he grew more comfortable, he’d get lost in a tangent, speed up, and start using his hands expressively, but as soon as he caught himself, he pulled back to that cool demeanor. It was like there was this excited little nut trying to break free but who had been censured before and learned to keep some things at bay.

“So cool.” I thumbed in the direction of the new hunk of wood on the floor. “Any idea what that’s going to be?” He held my gaze a fraction too long. “No idea.” He shrugged, but the tips of his ears had gone red. “But it called to you? The wood?” I asked. He narrowed his eyes again. “I can feel you trying so hard not to make a joke.” “So hard.” I squeaked. “No. No. I’m good. I got it all out of my system.” I held up my palms in seriousness.

It wasn’t an overtly sexual gesture or even remotely flirtatious, but the air must have shifted around me. I was aware of his masculinity. His scent. The hairs on his muscular arms where his shirt was pushed up to his elbows. I tried so hard to remember that I was supposed to be looking for something, but I was so in my body that it was like my mind went offline. Even when I’d been attracted to somebody on a mental level, it never felt like this. I never felt it so deeply in my body like electrical pulses.

Give me incredible wit or intense specified knowledge of one area of study, a skill set nobody else has, and I’m gone. Competence kink suited me. It had taken months of getting to know Kevin before I felt any sort of lust stir. Simply put, I was a cerebral girly, and this physical reaction was intense.

I’d overshared her into silence. She had seemed so genuinely interested in my work, but I had a habit of always going just a little too far and not realizing it until the person was already gone. Then again, her silence could be because she was currently caged in by my arms. What was I thinking? I wasn’t. As was beginning to be the pattern around her. I was so caught up in the moment that I touched her without thinking. Now she stood in my embrace like a lover, her sweet floral scent rattling my peanut-sized brain. She was soft and warm and pliant. All I’d touched for so long was unforgiving, weathered pieces of wood—she’d have a field day with that one. When was the last time I’d even touched a woman, let alone one who seemed to infiltrate my brain with her nosy questioning, deep dimples, and wide smile that made my brain blank out? Had I remembered to breathe? My lungs ached. If I inhaled her now, the memory of her would be latched to this exact moment, and I’d be cursed to relive this yearning every time I smelled anything close to this combination of sweet florals, wood shavings, and whatever made her scent hers.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, accepting the compliment that eventually sank in even though it made my skin itchy. I never felt like I deserved praise for something that worked through me, like thanking a keyboard for an author’s work.

My heart hammered against my chest. She was poetic for a journalist. It was what I could never convey in trying to explain my work. This stranger understood things about myself that I was still not close to processing.

Now that I was alone, I was too pissed off to wallow like I wanted to. I was pissed off at myself for getting mad at her. I was mad that she had to be so damn … so incredible. With those eyes and those lips. When she looked at me. And her curiosity was just so … That young lady was showing interest, and that’s how you act? You make art but get so mad when people like it …

I wrapped myself up in him, his body heat infusing my bones with warmth I thought I’d never feel again. His scent, like home, overtook the wet, earthy smell of the world around us, a balm to my panic. I sank into his strength, protecting and comforting. His arms banded tight around me; my ear pressed against his chest, listening to the solid and erratic beat of his heart. His large hand cradled my head, pressing me into him like he was also seeking comfort in the knowledge that I was okay and safe. His fingers stroked my soaked hair, soothing even as they snagged. And it all felt so right.

Every single ounce of fear gripping me melted away as her arms squeezed me tight around my core. Her arms shook as she held me with all her might. Every possible worst-case scenario that had played rapid-fire through my brain for the past hour—poof. Gone.

Nothing could happen to her. Protect her at all costs.

“Can I carry you?” I asked. “I don’t think—Okay, then.” I lifted her in the fireman carry I learned when Pace made me take that local Search and Rescue course. I could kiss the guy for pushing me to do it as I cataloged all the things I would do to help Claire. Not that I wouldn’t still be a grumpy shit about it.

Kneeling before her like this, caring for her, it was clouding my mind. I made the mistake of looking up to find her studying me, cheeks slightly pink, breathing shallow, and her brown eyes locked on me in this position of supplication. I clenched my jaw, promising to punch myself if I got the slightest bit aroused right now. But the room had grown stiflingly warm. Her skin under mine was soft despite the cold.

But the color was high on her cheeks, and she smiled softly at me, just a little dimple showing. I averted my gaze so as not to be drawn in by those dimples when I noticed her breasts were easily defined through the soft fabric of the sweater I chose. There was nowhere safe to look at her. She was too beautiful. Even the slightest glimpse and I risked a deadly amount of exposure to her beauty.

My forefinger brushed the back of her knee, and she sucked in a breath. “Sorry. Ticklish.” Her color had really returned now. Heat rushed through me at her reactive sensitivity. I longed to run my hand farther up her thigh and see what happened. I growled at myself to focus. The gash on her knee was dirty but shallow. It was still bleeding slightly as her body warmed. “Did you just growl?” “I don’t like that you’re hurt,” I said smoothly.

God, what was wrong with me? A man saves my life, and suddenly, his touches make my brain misfire.

I saw his features twisted with concern as he found me on the trail. I remembered the gentleness of his fingers as he removed my clothing and tended to my leg. He was a good man. He was suffering. He was alone.

“Just so you know, when you admit that I’m annoying you, it only makes me want to do it more. I WILL CHARM YOU YET, SIR.” I moaned out loud. Little did she know …

There was a knock on the door. I jumped so hard, my phone flew in the air, but I fumbled to catch it in time before it crashed to the ground. I looked around the room in panic, verifying that nothing incriminating was lying around. I scoffed at myself. It wasn’t like my thoughts of Claire had jumped out of my brain and lay strewn around the room like dirty boxers.

Nevertheless, I glanced at myself in the mirror and ensured I was properly dressed in jeans and a flannel. I ran a hand over my face and smelled my breath in my palm before finally opening the door. It was her. She flashed a large smile, dimples popping as my blood started pumping. The sun shone brightly today and haloed her in light.

I cleared my throat, heat burning the back of my neck. “If you’re bored, I-I—uh⁠—” We both stepped closer at the same time when my voice came out much quieter than I meant. It was like it took too much emotional energy for me to form words at a normal, socially acceptable volume when I was nervous like this. Her gaze flicked to my mouth, most likely to understand what I was saying. “I am bored. Dreadfully, incurably bored,” she said.

I lowered my head a fraction of an inch. Her cheeks were so full of color, her lips softly parted and pillowy. Those dimples were barely visible. She smelled freshly showered, warm, and floral. A hint of toothpaste. If I kissed her lips, she would taste amazing. I wanted to kiss her so bad.

Pace had his charm turned up to eleven. This had to end now. If she fell victim to his personality, I had no hope. Hope for what? I wasn’t ready to process that yet. I needed to get him out of here. I’d lost most of my friends at this point. Honestly, what was one more?

This was an interesting turn of events. Caught between two incredibly handsome men, what was a woman to do?

When he opened the door in his jeans and flannel, I was reminded just how handsome he was. It wasn’t boredom that drew me to him … it was something far more primal. When his gaze lingered on my lips, my body grew heavy with his direct focus. My lips tingled with the need to feel his pressed against them.

They were both good-looking men but in different fonts. And actually, Pace was almost too handsome, the sort of attractive that everybody was aware of, including himself. The sort of handsome that made me leery. Levi had an attractiveness that grew with time. Every time I looked at him, I found a new striking feature to study, like the hard bump on the bridge of his nose before it sloped down or the gentle strength of his long sculptor fingers. He was far more interesting and distinguished.

“I’m but a mere mortal. It’s not really something I can control. I think it’s hardwired into DNA. Man in uniform. Children playing happily. Parents watching on with smiles.” She bent her arms at ninety-degree angles and moved robotically. “Beep boop. Alert, alert.” She made a powering-up sound. “Now ovulating.” A surprised laugh burst out of me. Looking down at her, she studied the goofy, jerky movement, unable to hide the joy she dragged out of me. Her erratic gestures slowed to a stop as she blinked up at me. With her body still, her face lit with joy as her gaze moved to my mouth and around my face, and her smile grew bigger. “I like seeing this.” She poked my cheek where my smile was still beaming.

I was on display, raw and vulnerable, but she made me feel so many things. Yet I couldn’t turn it off. I couldn’t make it melt away. I didn’t want to.

This desire to protect her from him was simply instinctual.

I had thought something about myself initially made her talk so honestly, but that was who she was. She was genuinely so earnest and open. “You need to nudge me. Or we need to establish a code word when I start to go too far,” she said. “Absolutely not.” I couldn’t help my chuckle. She had completely turned my mood around. I had been dreading every moment of that interaction, and by the end, I wanted to pull up a chair with some popcorn.

“I really hate my brain sometimes,” she added. “I really love your authenticity,” I countered.

I, too, lacked a filter, which was another reason I hated coming into town. But I loved it on Claire. I loved that from the second I met her, there were no games or pretenses. She was exactly what she presented herself as. I thought maybe it was just me who saw this side of her, but that was who she was. In every interaction, she was just a little too goofy and a little too earnest. People didn’t know what to do with her.

I could kiss this woman senseless. And as soon as the thought formed, it grew and implanted itself deep in my brain tissue, where it would only be removed by a lobotomy that made me forget everything. I wanted this woman. I wanted her with every fiber of my being. And not because she saved me from Kathy Wilson, but because of every real thing about her.

I held on to Levi, not ready to let go of him or end this perfect day. He had done well, too, though the strain around his eyes spoke of how taxing this day had been. I would let him get back to the safety of the cabin. Just one more song. It was so nice to be held.

“I’m so in my head all the time. I’m deep-diving into some new topic, usually something awful, the underbelly of the worst of humanity. I get so set in the truth that people are inherently greedy and awful, but then, and maybe this is silly—I come out, and I see these little pockets of love and think, aw, maybe we aren’t so bad. Maybe most of us are just doing our best. We’re just a messy little collection of cells and matter given a conscience, and perhaps we’re doing okay with the chaos of the fact. Considering how hard it all can be. You know? Humans are cute.”

I squeezed him into an unexpected hug, and he stopped our movement to hug me back. Here we were in the center of town, hugging like it was nothing. I wondered if it bothered him to have the rumor mill seeing this. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Thank you,” I said. He stiffened in my arms and made a soft sound of understanding. He didn’t need to speak, he just needed to know that I was thankful for his kindness.