“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.
37
Magic Tree House
Holland
Mallory has her hands on her hips, and she’s staring up into the tree house Mack and I built with our dad.
“You really are trying to get me to break my neck tonight, aren’t you?”
“Come on. You’re one of the most athletic, coordinated people I know. You can easily get up there.”
She sets her jaw. “Alright. Where do I climb?”
“This is the best entry point.” I walk her around to the far side of the old tree house. “The stairs are a little rickety, but they still provide some decent foot holds.”
I shine the flashlight I brought on the best path for her to take, and she wedges her foot into a crevice and hoists herself up. I stand behind her as a spotter and watch as she deftly climbs the side of the tree. Mallory is all graceful lines and compact muscle.
“Holland, are you checking me out?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Umm…that depends on what you’ll do if I say yes.”
She huffs. “What are you afraid of?”
“Freaking you out,” I admit. “I’ve spent so long trying not to show you that I think you’re all around stunning. Like, I’m a professional actor at this point. I’m a little worried that if I tell you I’m checking you out and that I think you’re gorgeous, from every angle, it might make me seem like I’m coming on too strong. I don’t want to do that. But I also don’t want to lie to you. So yes, Mallory. I am definitely checking you out.”
I hold my breath as she stares at me over her shoulder. Maybe that was too bold of me. Maybe a woman like her will think it’s uncouth that I’d admit to enjoying this view of her backside. Maybe—
“Well, if you’re going to be all sweet like that, you can keep looking.” She turns and scoots the rest of the way up the tree fort, disappearing inside.
I stand momentarily stunned. Did Mallory Walsh just give me permission to look at her? Like,looklook? I think she might have, and my heart doesn’t know what to do with that information. It’s currently pinballing around my chest.
Mallory’s head reappears above me. She’s looking down at me, and her ponytail falls over her left shoulder. “The view up here is awesome. Are you coming?”
I stare up at her for an extra second, trying to memorize the sparkle I can make out in her eyes thanks to the moonlight and the glow of my flashlight. It’s almost too much. If I don’t join her in the tree house right now, I might lose my nerve. There’s no way I’m good enough for her, but I want to try to be. That starts now—with being honest about my past wounds and why I am the way I am.
I toggle the flashlight to my right hand and use my left hand to scale the side of the tree fort. When I join her inside, she’s kneeling in the center of the worn floor, surrounded by a bed of pillows. If you would have told thirteen-year-old me that a woman like Mallory would be in my hideaway, willingly giving me a chance to be with her, I wouldn’t have believed you.
“You did all this?” Mallory points to the pillows. I’ve basically fashioned an old-school, homemade fort. I’ve got pillows of different sizes and fleece tie blankets folded up nearby in case we get cold. Not that I’d be opposed to using our body heat, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.
“Told you I’d try to make things comfy for you.” I duck under the two-by-four that frames the entrance wall to the tree fortand walk across the plank floor to where she’s kneeling. I plop down and lie back, linking my fingers behind my head. I probably look nonchalant right now. But I promise you, with the rate my heart is racing, I’m the opposite. I’m full of chalant. “How’d I do?”
She stares at me before easing herself down onto the pillows, our shoulders touching. “So far, so good.”
We don’t look at each other, just stare up at the stars.
“The one good thing to come of the horrifying bird incident is that I hacked off the roof of the tree house so it would never happen again, and now we have an unobstructed view of the sky.”
“It’s so peaceful. A nice change of pace from filming and golf practice.” Mallory hums contentedly. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”
“I wanted you to myself,” I admit. “I mostly wanted to talk.”
“So romantic.” She cuts me with a teasing look.
“Believe me. There are other things I want to do.” Our gazes lock, and I love that she doesn’t look away from me. I love that the spark in her eyes glows even brighter. It makes my heart tap, tap, tap out a beat that sounds likehope, hope, hopein my ear.
