Chapter 22

twenty-two

WILL

It was only seven o'clock, but the outdoor firepits were glowing along the perimeter of Firefly. People gathered around them in the chilly evening air with fleece jackets and glasses of cider, a lot of tourists in among them.

A band wasn't playing on the outdoor stage tonight, but the empanada food truck was doing good business, and indie folk music played from the speakers. But the low murmur of voices could be heard all around.

I took a sip of my cranberry seasonal cider—Do You Have to Let It Linger Berry—and scanned the wide space.

Becca had texted me this afternoon and asked me to meet her here for a drink. I'd started my night inside, and then grabbed a glass at the bar when I hadn't run across her yet. I'd continued my search outside assuming she was still on her way.

Spotting Jordan working the outdoor bar counter, I wandered up. On the way, I noticed a figure moving among the guests. It looked like a mascot for a sports team. Dark fabric-covered legs sticking out of a big fuzzy body, antennae on top, and . . . was that? Yep, a blinking light on the bottom half of the getup.

"Did you get a lightning bug costume?" I said when I reached the short bar top .

Jordan looked up from where he was restocking pint glasses and grinned. "Isn't it great?"

I eyed the lightning bug in among the families seated at picnic tables, high-fiving kids and posing for pictures beneath the large bulb patio lights. "It's something." But I couldn't help smiling at the firefly's enthusiasm. "Where'd you get it?"

Jordan leaned on the bar, and we both watched the progress of the walking marketing scheme. "You know how Mom is always on Marketplace looking for vintage Pyrex dishes and Fenton Glass for her collections? Well, she saw a firefly mascot on there. Some old high school in Georgia was selling it used for cheap. I made an offer and got it. We had it dry-cleaned and added a blinking light in the ass, and bam! Kids' night at the cidery."

A group of tourists brought the human lightning bug in for a selfie and I shook my head. "Who's the poor sucker in the suit? Seth?"

Jordan pushed up from the counter and busied himself wiping it down. "Nah. He's busy with his friends. Actually, I think he might be dating that Ellerby girl."

My eyes narrowed when I noticed Jordan drifting away from me, acting weird. Then I glanced back at the firefly, still prancing between patrons. "No," I breathed. Then I glared at Jordan.

Dark eyes wide and hands held up in surrender, my friend squawked, "What?"

"Tell me that is not Becca Kernsy in that thing."

"She wanted to!"

My glare intensified, and I plunked my drink down on the surface of the makeshift bar.

"It was her idea to add the light," Jordan defended. "Becca helped fix it up. She's having fun. Look at her."

I turned right as a little kid flung himself into Becca's arms. I could hear her laughter from here as she swung the small boy around in a circle.

"She likes being involved in the town, Will. You know that. Plus, I told her she gets free cider for life, man. She's one of us."

I sighed but didn't argue further. I knew he was right. Becca was probably the one brainstorming the whole kids' night thing, luring parents out, and encouraging Jordan to market the hell out of this. She did like being involved in everything Kirby Falls, and I knew she considered Jordan a friend, too.

He gave me a cheerful smack on the shoulder before helping a couple who needed to close out a tab. I watched Becca continue her path beneath the warm glow of the string lights crisscrossing and illuminating the outdoor space.

When I had nearly finished my drink, I noticed her approach. Becca moseyed up and placed her arm through mine. The fuzzy dark gray suit covered her torso. Her slender legs stuck out the bottom through two leg holes. It looked like she was wearing the black leggings she preferred to read in by the fireplace in the tiny house's living room. Similarly, her arms extended out through the armholes of the costume, covered again in dark fabric from a long-sleeved shirt.

A big, boxy bug head sat atop her shoulders with bouncy antennae sticking out the top on what appeared to be droopy springs. I couldn't see much of her face behind the dark netting and large bug eyes, but I knew she was smiling.

The suit stuck out in the back, accentuating her lower half, and every ten seconds or so, it lit up like a yellow fluorescent firefly backside.

Before I could do more than grin reluctantly in her direction, Jordan called, "What's up, Kernsy? You're killing it out there."

She practically vibrated with happy energy at my side.

But I didn't give her a chance to respond. I straightened and spoke up, "She's taking a break."

Then I grabbed her hand—clad in thin black gloves—and pulled her toward the building.

I walked slowly and made sure to lead her carefully up the stairs on the back deck past the covered seating area. We entered Firefly and I tugged her toward the hallway that led to Jordan's office and the entrance to the bottling side of the large building.

"Are you okay in there?" I said once we stopped.

"Yeah!" she replied, her sweet voice muffled. "I've only been at it for about a half hour. "

"Can we—" I felt around her neck for the bottom of the giant head piece. "Can we take this off? I can't even talk to you like this."

"Oh, sure."

Becca's hands joined mine as we felt around the base of her neck for where the boxy helmet thing was attached. "Maybe it's stuck," she said after we'd failed to locate a zipper or release after several minutes of searching.

"Hang on," I said.

Becca bent forward at the waist, and I got a good grip on the edge of the bug head. I started off gentle, but that yielded no results, so I told her to brace herself against my legs.

Her small hands pressed against the front of my thighs, and I curled my fingers beneath the edge of the mask. With a solid yank, I heard a series of snaps, like a button-up shirt being ripped open, and then Becca was free, long blond hair spilling out around her.

From the end of the hallway came a collective gasp. Becca straightened from her bent position and I turned to face a group of six feral bar children. With wide eyes and hanging jaws, they stared in shock as I held the bug head in my arms.

"Oh, shoot," Becca said under her breath just as the two littlest girls in the group burst into loud, noisy tears.

"She's okay," I offered. "She's totally fine."

But the crying continued.

Becca tried to smile reassuringly, but in the heat of the costume, her eye makeup must have melted a little. She had black streaks and smudges beneath both eyes, and looked a little unhinged as she did her best to reassure them. "Lamplight the Firefly is just taking a little break, friends!"

She took a few steps toward the children, but they all flinched away.

The older kids quickly ushered away the crying children, and we stood in the hallway staring at the spot they'd occupied.

Finally, we looked at one another and then burst out laughing. Becca grabbed my arm to hold herself up as she wheezed. "I can't believe—I just scarred them for life. They'll probably have nightmares about beheadings or something terrible. "

I examined the inside of the bug head and found the row of snaps we'd missed when I'd been trying to free Becca from her lightning bug prison.

She followed my gaze and said, "Chloe helped me into this thing. I totally missed that part." And then she started giggling again, and I couldn't help but smile.

I placed the firefly head carefully on the ground and drew her close to me. "Are you sure you're fine doing this?" With gentle thumbs, I swiped beneath her eyes, trying to remove the smeared makeup.

Becca looked confused. "Dressing up as a lightning bug?"

"Yeah. It's not like you work for Jordan."

She smiled. "Oh, I know. I'm just helping out tonight. He said he'd pay Seth or one of his baseball buddies to do it from here on out. I was just excited after we finished wiring the light and wanted to try it out for Lamplight's inaugural flight around the cidery."

I smoothed back the tiny, sweat-damp strands of hair near her temple. "You sure you're not too hot in it? You can breathe okay?"

Wrapping a hand around my wrist, she squeezed. "I'm completely fine in there."

"Okay," I said, still not totally convinced. But I leaned forward and kissed her. "You do look pretty cute like this."

Her blue eyes brightened. "Oh, are you into the suit?"

I nodded and kissed her again.

"Does this mean you're a furry?" Becca whispered against my lips.

I pulled back, brows furrowing in confusion. "What the hell is a furry?"

Through her laughter, she managed to tell me about furry sex culture.

"You are lying," I accused, dumbfounded.

She was enjoying this way too much. "You can google it if you don't believe me."

I could feel the horrified expression on my face. I would not be doing any of that .

Becca wagged a finger at me. "What did I tell you about kink shaming?"

I gave her a put-upon look, but she only laughed again.

Once again, heat flared beneath the skin of my neck and cheeks. My beard was trimmed and tidy now, so she could probably see it. Dammit.

"Well, I better get back out there," she said, amusement still sparkling in her blue eyes. "Help me get back into this thing."

Working together, we got her bug head balanced and snapped back into place. I peeked around the corner to make sure the coast was clear back into the main room of the cidery.

"Come find me before you leave," she whispered before giving me a quick hug and knocking me in the chin with her mask.

I watched her wave and weave her way among the patrons inside, back to entertaining once more.

"God, you are a sucker."

I started at the announcement from nearby. Turning, I found my cousin Mac, staring at me pitifully, drink in hand.

"You need a bell, MacKenzie. Jesus."

She grinned, red lips stretching wide and pleased. With a few steps in her black-and-white Converse sneakers she came to stand right next to me. For a few moments, we silently watched Becca flit around the taproom, high-fiving and taking photos with anyone who wanted one.

"You're caught in her net just like the rest of us, William."

I glanced over at Mac, who was looking at Becca with a small smile on her face.

She side-eyed me. "What? Did you think you were special? This whole damn town is in love with her."

The thought of being snared by Becca—like any other resident in Kirby Falls—didn't sit right. I didn't want to be just one more person absorbing her smiles and her warmth. Another business owner utilizing her skills and benefiting from her generous heart. I had no desire to be another person in her life sucking up her goodness and her light .

I didn't think anyone took advantage of her . . . not on purpose, anyway. But Becca went looking for ways to be liked and included. She'd give her time and her energy to anyone who needed it. And she'd run herself ragged if it meant helping others.

Plus, I had my own complicated feelings about her sister and how she used her. Just last night, Becca had stepped outside the tiny house to take a call from Heather. It hadn't lasted long, but when she returned to bed and snuggled up next to me, I'd known the conversation had affected her. I'd asked her if she wanted to talk about it, but she'd said it was the same story. Heather was mad that Becca was still away and needed to borrow some money.

She'd shared a bit of their difficult history and I sympathized. But Becca and I were totally different people. I would have booted Heather out of my life a long fucking time ago. But Becca couldn't seem to give up on her—to Becca's own detriment. All these calls and texts were nothing more than cleverly disguised threats and manipulation.

In the comfort of my arms, I'd told Becca she was doing the right thing by prioritizing her own happiness. But that seemed to make her go quiet and thoughtful.

Sadness had clung to her until she'd fallen asleep against me, and I'd felt frustrated and powerless.

I cared about Becca, so I didn't want anyone using her or hurting her. But I knew it wasn't my place to insert myself in her family affairs, so I stayed quiet on the topic even though it pained me to do so. Becca deserved a sister who loved her. Not whatever twisted, unhealthy relationship she and Heather had.

"I'm happy for you, Will," Mac eventually said, drawing my attention. "You've been so obsessed with the farm. You needed this, I think. You needed something—someone—just for you."

Unease tightened a sharp band around my chest at my cousin's quiet, well-meaning words. "She's a person, Mac. Not a puppy you get because you're bored or a sourdough bread fad."

A hard shove came from my left. "I know that, you doofus. But Becca is good for you."

The lightning bug in question chose that moment to wave in our direction before scooting off toward the side door and back outside .

"And you're good for her too."

I heard Mac's words long after she wandered off to the bar to join Chloe and Andie.

It had been nice bringing Becca home with me. Lunch with my parents had been effortless because they knew Becca and already loved her. But I liked having her there as my girlfriend—partner—whatever we were.

We hadn't really discussed it. We were together and that seemed to be enough.

We'd been basically living together for going on three weeks now. I'd made a few trips up the mountain to grab clothes and check on the house. But in the simplest terms, I was happy and so was she.

There were things I needed to say. But something held me back. I wanted her to be in Kirby Falls, settled and permanent. Then it would be the right time to tell Becca I loved her.

I didn't want to put weird pressure on her with the move approaching. I didn't expect her to uproot her whole life only to replant it in my backyard. Maybe she needed space to make her own decisions and live her own life, especially when so much was changing.

We'd figure it out.

I made my way to the bar, eager to close out my tab.

Winding my way through the tables and chairs, I found Becca afterward and told her I was headed back to the tiny house.

"I'm going to finish up here," she said quietly. "Then I promised Chloe I'd have a drink with her and Andie."

I nodded, happy that she was taking time for herself, for her own friendships. I wanted her to find her way here, to establish herself on her terms. I needed her to be happy in Kirby Falls, for both our sakes.

"I'll see you at home," I said and thought how true the statement was.

I felt more at home, cramped in that tiny house with her and Carl than I ever had in my great-grandfather's house. Briefly, I wondered if the old place would feel like home if Becca was there too. I bet she'd have some ideas—ways to renovate and modernize that would not only restore but also honor the integrity of the house, the history of it too.

I could hear Becca's grin when she replied from behind her mask, "I'll see you at home, Will."

Grinning, I stepped away but lowered my voice and said, "And bring the suit."

Her laughter echoed brightly in the night air, and I sensed my answering happiness settle deep inside.

Something warm and heavy and like nothing I'd ever felt before.