She nods. “Yes, you realizing you deserve better than what he was offering and, your birthday, of course. Thirty is a big deal.”
“Yeah... it is,” I whisper as I lean back against the couch.
Rae shrugs. “You’ll be fine with the brownie, just try to relax and enjoy it.”
She turns her attention back to the TV and starts scrolling for a movie. It doesn’t take long for her to settle on something horrifying. Blood splatters across the screen within seconds and when the main character breaks out a chain saw and a hammer, I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“Horror, Rae? Really?”
“Obviously,” she replies with an impish grin. “It’s the best genre.”
I roll my eyes, but her excitement is kind of contagious. Watching her now, sitting cross-legged on the floor, totally absorbed in the chaos on screen, it’s hard not to smile. She and Cash seemed like such an odd pair at first, but now? It makes sense. They balance each other out. Opposites attract trope and all that.
I let out another wistful sigh. “I still don’t feel anything.” I glance at the clock and wonder if time is going backwards.
Rae looks over her shoulder. “Some people aren’t affected by the brownies. Maybe you’ve got a crazy high tolerance.”
Maybe, but I’m starting to think these brownies are duds. I push up onto the couch and sit before stretching out while thinking about how much I’ve done today. It’s been nonstop since sunrise, helping Cash with the new chicks we just got on the farm and then stopping by the new brewery and restaurant we opened to sling drinks and cook meals for the locals.
Spring is my favorite season. It’s chick season and me and Colt’s birthdays. But even with all the work that our family is drowning in and all the available distractions, I can’t stop my thoughts from circling back to the Mayberry property right next door and my dream to have my own thing. My own place to settle down roots.
My brothers are all on board with me buying it. The trouble is the damn marriage clause. And there’s no way I’m telling them about it because I know exactly what would happen. Colt and Molly would step in, swoop it out from under me, and claim they’re “helping.” And I know they’d mean well, they always do, but no thanks.
I want this to be mine—something I’ve built and ownby myself.Finally.
“Hey, I’m gonna go take a shower,” I say, grabbing the bag I brought from the floor next to the couch because I’m still sweaty and smelly from the work I did today and could use the distraction from my spiraling thoughts.
“Go for it,” Rae mumbles from the floor and Lydia doesn’t even acknowledge me while she continues to text angrily.
I head to the bathroom, my curiosity piqued by Colt’s latest project he and Cash have been working on at his home. He mentioned upgrading their bathroom including installing some fancy rain shower head, and when I step inside the space, I’m not disappointed. The place looks like a freaking spa.
Gold fixtures, sleek tile, and a showerhead that sprays from every angle. It even has a steam feature. It’s got Colt’s design work and Cash’s construction skills written all over it and I can’t wait to enjoy it.
I turn on the water, letting it warm up as I strip off my clothes. Stepping into the rain shower feels like heaven. The warm water cascades over my skin, washing away the grit from the day. I grab a bottle of Molly’s soap, wildflower-scented, and lather it in my hands. The smell is intoxicating, fresh and floral.
As I work the suds over my body, I can’t help but notice how strong the scent is. Everything feels… heightened. My senses are on overdrive and my head feels softer.
By the time I rinse the soap off, a strange sensation creeps over me. It starts in my chest, like a flutter, and spreads outward. My body feels lighter, almost detached, and my head starts to spin while my legs shake. The heat from the shower suddenly feels oppressive, the steam too thick. I press one hand against the cool tile for support, but my legs feel disconnected now.
“Okay,”I whisper to myself.“You’re fine. Just breathe. This is probably the brownie kicking in.”
But my breathing feels off. Each labored breath is too shallow, too quick. I try to steady myself, but my fingers can barely grip the shower door. The last thing I see is the gold handle slipping out of reach before I crash onto the shower floor loudly.
Chapter 7: Regan
"She’s going to be fine. She just slipped and fell.”
“You know it’s because of your stupid brownies, right?”
“It’s all good.”
“Good thing Molly wasn’t here. She’d be pissed if she knew you got her so high she fell in her shower.”
I force my eyelids to open to figure out where I’m at and realize I’m in the back seat of Lydia’s car. The world outside the tinted window is speeding by in a blur so we must be moving. That, or I’m still super high.
“What’s going on?” I mumble, my voice thick and groggy. My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and my vision is still a little fuzzy, but I feel relaxed so at least there’s that. Actually, I feel more than relaxed.
I feelgood.
