Chapter Twenty

“Soooooo, that was intense,” Logan says as I drive down the country road to his house.

When I told him I would drive him to pickleball because of his truck, I hadn’t fully thought through the details of driving him home. Not that I mind, but it’s a long drive since he lives out in the country, and the sun is already setting. It’s a lot of time to be alone with someone I probably shouldn’t be alone with.

“Extremely intense,” I reply, happy for a neutral conversation topic. “At least Grandma had a good time.”

“Oh, she had a great time. It looks like she might have a boyfriend too.”

I shudder. I don’t want to think about Grandma and boyfriends.

“Don’t be a hater. Everyone deserves to have someone in their life who loves them, no matter their age,” he says.

I feel his eyes on the side of my face, but I keep my focus on the road and tighten my grip on the steering wheel. So much for neutral conversations. When we pull up to his house, I slow down to take it all in.

“Whoa. So you’re, like, a farmer. ”

He waves dismissively at the house and land. “That’s my dad, not me. And this is nothing—you should see a real farm. My dad always wanted to live in the country with a bunch of animals since he grew up in Cleveland, so my parents bought this place as soon as they could afford it. Now Dad spends every free minute taking care of it.”

I bet. There are probably lots of larger farms around here, but what I’m looking at seems pretty impressive. In front of me stands an old farmhouse with white siding, blue shutters, and a front porch with some paint missing. Behind it is a large barn with a tractor parked outside. It’s even red with a huge quilt block painted on it like something out of a “country life” calendar.

“It’s nice to see where you live,” I reply hesitantly. I’m not sure what the etiquette is here. Should I say goodbye and drive away? Or is he going to invite me in? This is worlds apart from when he drove me home in February.

He opens his passenger side door. “Do you want to meet the calf that my mom is bottle-feeding?” His voice is a little unsure.

“Do I want to meet an animal so small it needs to be fed with a bottle? Um, yeah. Very much so.”

I follow him to the barn, excited and nervous. He pulls open the sliding door and ushers me inside. The ground is packed dirt and on either side are horse stalls. Each is closed by a wooden half door at the bottom, while the top half is open. None of them seem to be occupied, though a few have stacks of tools and supplies.

“No horses?”

“No, Dad says they’re too expensive. Mom keeps begging him, though, so I think it’s only a matter of time. But we’re keeping the calf over here. It’s too cold to have her outside all the time.”

He motions me over to a stall and I peek down to find a tiny brown cow with the largest round eyes and eyelashes. She’s only as large as a golden retriever and is practically the same color. She trots over and I immediately put out my hand to pet her.

“Logan, ahhh!” I squeak with joy. “She’s adorable!”

He opens the stall door so we can walk inside.

“Is it okay for us to be in here with her?”

He nods. “Oh yeah, she’s used to humans. Mom is absolutely babying her. She treats her like the youngest member of the family.”

“I don’t blame your mom.” I pet her again and debate throwing my arms around her neck in a huge hug. “I’m already in love with her.”

“She’s pretty cute,” he says begrudgingly, but his expression is warm when he looks between us. “Dad was hoping to fatten her up and put her on the market, but I’m pretty sure she’s going to become a pet.”

I turn to him with wide eyes. “The market? You don’t mean…”

“Dad doesn’t do this just for the fun of it,” he says with a shrug. “That’s how he makes money.”

The calf pushes her nose into my hand, and I pet her more vigorously. She rubs her body up against me, and even though she’s little, she’s still heavy enough to push me off balance. Logan’s hand touches the small of my back to centerme.

“You can’t sell her. She’s just a precious little baby.”

He groans. “Oh boy, you’re just like Mom.”

“Her floppy ears are so soft.”

“She likes you.” His voice is uneven. “She’s usually only like this with Mom.”

“That could be because you and your dad are planning on killing her.”

He winces. “Shhh, don’t say that in front of her.”

“I think she likes me because she has good taste.”

He leans up against the side of the stall with a lopsided grin. “The only thing she cares about tasting is milk. Otherwise, she has no taste.”

“That’s both rude and untrue,” I retort with a smile so he knows I’m not actually mad.

Someone clears their throat behind us. We both jump and turn to find an older man in faded jeans and a Carhartt jacket. He has his arms crossed over his chest and his expression isn’t exactly welcoming, more like he’s sizing up the situation.

“It’s a little hard to get your chores done when you’re standing around.”

Logan straightens and rubs the back of his neck. “Hey, Dad. Sorry, Quinn drove me home, so I thought I’d introduce her to the calf.”

“Introduce her to animals before you introduce her to people?” Logan’s dad chuckles slightly and it softens the lines of his face. “Maybe that was a good choice, actually.” He walks forward and sticks out his hand. “I’m Chuck, Logan’s dad. I hear you’re Barbara’s granddaughter. You don’t find many people better than her.”

“She’ll love to hear that.” I shake his hand and ignore the swell of nerves at the fact that I’m meeting one of Logan’s parents. “It’s nice to meet you. Your farm is amazing.”

He smiles broadly. “One of the joys of my life. I see you’re getting along with Susie Q?”

“Is that her name?”

“That’s what Mom named her,” Logan says, and he and his dad share an eye roll.

“As soon as she names an animal, I know they’re off-limits,” Chuck says conspiratorially.

“It sounds like she and I need to go around and name every animal on the farm, then.”

Chuck groans. “Oh no, I can’t have two of you roaming around. Are you staying for dinner?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. My parents are anxiously awaiting all the details of the pickleball game today.” I give a final pat to Susie Q and step out of the stall.

“Bring your boots next time and I’ll put you to work,” Chuck tells me. “As long as you don’t name the animals.”

Logan groans. “We’re not putting Quinn to work on thefarm.”

“Isn’t that what she did with you, having you help at Barbara’s? Or was that just an excuse to spend more time with your girlfriend?”

Logan’s cheeks redden and mine do the same. Girlfriend? God, our group would freak out if they heard Logan’s dad say that.

“She’s not my girlfriend and it’s not an excuse.”

“Well, you’re always welcome,” Chuck says to me. It’s easy to be intimidated by him, with his gruff voice and stern expression, but the twinkle in his eyes tells me I haven’t made a terrible first impression. He nods to his son. “I’ll see you inside. Don’t linger, food’s almost on the table.”

Logan walks me back down the gravel driveway to the car. “I know Dad seems crotchety, but he’s all right. He means well.”

“He can’t scare me away from SusieQ. And I won’t make promises about the names either.”

We walk past a little shed on the way back to the car. “That’s so cute.” This one is made of stacked stone and the roof is covered in moss. I’m immediately drawn to it.

Logan pauses, looking between me and the shed. “Dad gathered all those stones when he was putting in the vegetable garden a few years ago. It was supposed to be for tools, but then Mom claimed it as a she-shed. But it turned out to be a little rustic for her, so now it’s mine.”

“It’s yours?” I lean a little closer, but I can’t see inside through the small window.

“My bedroom is cramped, so I keep a lot of my books and D&D stuff out there. It’s a great place to work.”

“Oh, this is the place you mentioned before? Wow, I love it. Actually, I was thinking more about your campaign idea.” We walk slowly toward my car again. “I had some inspiration but feel free to shoot me down if you don’t like it.”

“You’re still thinking about that?”

“Is that okay? I wasn’t lying when I said I thought it sounded fun.”

“No, I don’t mind. I’m just surprised. So what were you thinking?”

“What if you gave the group a quest where they need to protect someone and deliver them…somewhere, I don’t know the details. But there’s a character—like a prince or something—and the group is acting as his bodyguards and they’re having regular encounters, but then they realize they’re also being followed.”

He twists to face me. “By the assassin? That could work. And maybe at first it seems like the assassin is trying to kill the guy they’re protecting—”

“But then they realize the assassin is trying to kill them all. Wait, Logan, oh my god!” I throw my hands in the air. “What if it turns out that the prince guy hired the assassin? The group thinks they’re protecting this guy and really this has been a long con to kill them all over some sort of vendetta! The assassin and prince could be secretly working together to destroy the group and they have to fight them both.”

His eyes light up. “Wow. Quinn, you’re an absolute genius.”

“Yeah? Awesome, I’m glad you like the idea!”

“I love it.”

We pause in front of my car. The sun has gone down in the time it’s taken to drive and meet SusieQ. It’s especially dark here with no streetlights or ambient lighting from other houses or businesses. I can even see a few stars above us. A blast of wind cuts right through my jacket and down my neck. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself.

Logan frowns and his hands rub up and down my upper arms. “Every time I see you, you’re cold. You should get going.” But rather than releasing me, his hands slow and he pulls me slightly closer to him. “I was thinking…I know we agreed to just be friends, but maybe before we decide that for sure, we should talk to the others? About… us ?”

Us.

A thrill goes through me at the single word and all that it implies. But fear rushes in and pushes away the excitement. What if I start something with Logan and it ruins everything like last time?

“I don’t know. It’ll change the dynamic of the group—it could change everything.”

“And you don’t want things to change?” His voice is impossibly low.

“I’d like some things to change. But not everything—not the group. I’m just starting to feel like they’re truly my friends. I’m sorry.” I bite my lower lip, and Logan’s gaze drops to it.

“I get it,” he continues. “But just as a warning, calling attention to your mouth around me right now is a very risky idea.”

I’m already anticipating the way it would feel if he drew me to him to keep me warm. Or if he came even closer and kissed me. His fingers tighten on my arms and his eyes drop to my mouth again.

A bell clangs in the distance, and we both flinch.

“The dinner bell,” he explains with a wince.

I laugh nervously and step away. “Sounds like they’re waiting for you.”

“Thanks for driving and meeting Susie Q.”

“Thanks for playing pickleball.”

I raise a hand in goodbye and head over to my car. There’s a lot more I want to say, but right now silence seems to be the safest choice.