SUNSETS AND SANDWICHES
“You didn’t go to jail for murder, right?”
As we walked through the tall grass, he glanced over his shoulder, a smile stretched across his face. He wasn’t going to give up his secret that easily. I could have called and asked Gladys, but knowing how rumors in Firefly went, it had grown. What started as jaywalking could become high-speed chases or international espionage.
“I promise you’re safe.” He gestured for me to keep up. “Just beware of bears.”
I loved bears. They’re so damned… Oh. The four-legged kind that could throw me around like a plaything. Wait, maybe they weren’t so different. This wouldn’t be a concern in Portland. The only bears I had to worry about were the leather daddies having drinks at the Dugout.
The sun had started to set, but we had another hour of light before wandering through the field in the dark.Driving empty roads here proved that Firefly was close to the middle of nowhere. We had officially left the map.
“We’re almost there.”
“Is this where the gangs of lumberjacks hideout? Are you the leader of a gang of flannel-clad ruffians?”
“No, this isn’t a porn.”
“Damn.”
I held out my hand, letting the top of the grass tickle my palms. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been surrounded by this much greenery. Portland had parks and more than its fair share of trees, but it didn’t have fields stretching to the mountains. Trees didn’t speckle the distance, hidden in shadows like rows of soldiers. We might both call Maine home, but only one of us had been born in the wild.
I tightened the straps on my backpack as we headed toward a single oak. As we reached the base, Tyler didn’t stop, except this time, he moved up. Stepping back, I craned my neck to see a structure hidden amongst the leaves. I had heard hunting cabins were common but never imagined one in a tree.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” My track record with gravity wasn't great.
“I haven’t died yet.”
Not the ringing endorsement I had hoped for. “Are we trespassing?” Maybe he went to jail for breaking and entering… breaking and climbing… unlawful climbing? I’m sure we were breaking a law, and a game warden would appear at any moment.
“It’s an adventure,” he said.
Three words spoken like a dare. Mimi… if I break my neck, it’s on you. I gripped the first wooden step, testing its sturdiness. Tyler had to have at least fifty pounds on me. I glanced up to see his jeans tight, every step showing off the muscle of those beautiful glutes. If he hadn’t fallen and broken his neck, I needed to have faith they’d hold for me. Then I remembered I was the guy who walked into walls and fell while standing still.
Heaven help me.
I followed, hurrying to avoid slipping and dying. When I reached the top, I had climbed through a hole in the floor. Sitting with my legs dangling twenty feet above the ground, I tried to catch my breath. Tyler sat with his back against a wall covered in graffiti. He smiled while watching me. He might be a burly bear, but he must have kept himself in shape.
“What?”
“You’re the second most beautiful thing here.”
He laid it on thick, but the way he stared, I believed him. My cheeks burned as I stared down at a glistening spot of sap on my jeans. It had been eons since somebody looked at me like a chubby kid staring at a tray of cupcakes.
“Wait. Second?”
He didn’t respond. Turning his head, I followed his eyes to— “Wow.”
The builders had forgotten to put up the fourth wall of their treehouse. Instead, I had a view of dense trees stretching to the mountains. I could use the word forest, butit wouldn’t have done Maine justice. The mountain range surrounding Firefly Valley remained hazy as if they were half in our world and half wherever elves lived.
“A close second.”
I ignored his attempts at flattery. It’d have been impressive on its own. As the sun set, the shadows of the mountains stretched along the tree tops. Behind it, the sky colored like the flickering flame of a matchstick. With every minute, the colors continued fading. Out here, the world felt quieter, slower, as if it invited me to stop and breathe.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“I promised a spot for our picnic.”
Pulling off the backpack, I paused every few seconds to find another cloud had dispersed. I offered to pack dinner if he could think of a suitable spot for our date. I imagined we’d be eating on the floor of the gazebo or sprawled out in the grass. Tyler, outdoing himself, left me thinking my contributions were subpar.
