“Melanie is not my favourite person at the moment,” Harper said, locking her phone. “Which is good news for you, because I’m all yours.”
That was music to his ears. He tugged her closer, hands sneaking down to her lower back and tracing along the thick band of her leggings. He didn’t know if he was allowed to touch her like this, and yet it was instinct. “Is that right?”
“Well, actually, it depends.” Her forehead scrunched suddenly. “We haven’t really talked about what’s happening here. Properly, I mean.”
And there it was. The conversation he hadn’t been much looking forward to, mostly because he didn’t have any answers. He wasn’t interested in starting up something serious, not with anyone, but especially not with a woman who wouldn’t be here come January.
Then again, he wasn’t usually interested in casual sex, either. He’d thrown his reservations out of the window for her.
“What do you want to be happening?” he asked, hoping she didn’t hear the faint quiver in his voice.
“I don’t know. I guess I need some clarification on what ‘casual’ means. We don’t know each other that well, after all…”
“We know each other enough that I consider you a friend,” he replied. “A friend I may or may not be very attracted to, mind.”
Her lips twitched with the trace of a smile. “So, we’ll be doing it again?”
“If you’d like.” His stomach stirred at the thought.
“Which makes it a friends-with-benefits thing.”
“If that’s what you want to call it. Like I said. We’re two adults having fun.”
She nodded zealously. “And there won’t be any catching romantic feelings, right? We agree? Because I don’t think this needs to be overcomplicated, and I don’t think it would be wise to start something. I have to focus on my book. You have to focus on…wood.”
“I have other interests than wood, sunshine.” But still, he agreed, “No catching feelings. No complications.”
Satisfied, she stood on her tiptoes to peck the corner of his mouth, her lips silky against his rough stubble. “Then we have a deal. Let’s go and see some fairies – casually. As friends. But first, I have to change.”
He pressed his lips together, wondering how many times she planned to specifyjusthow casual they were. Did she think he needed the reminder, or was it for her own benefit?
Still, he followed her into the cabin, Bernard at their ankles, and tried not to let it irk him. Tried not to wonderwhyit did.
“Would you take a picture of me on this tree stump?” Harper asked, shoving her phone into Fraser’s hands before he could object. They’d only just begun their walk along the Fairy Trail footpath, and it had taken close to an hour to reach the trailhead.
Mostly, it had been because Harper refused to continue without a cup of a cinnamon and hazelnut hot chocolate from the coffee truck stationed in the car park. Then, she’d needed a wee.Then, she’d had to video herself for an Instagram story to inform her followers that she was about to meet fairies she didn’t even believe in. Delving further into the world of Harper was certainly an experience, and one that tested his patience. At least she’d kept his grumpy face out of the shot.
He sipped his own latte, then propped the cup next to his feet so he could give his subpar photography skills his full attention. Harper climbed onto the wide, growth-ringed tree stump, which stood among an assortment of whimsical garden gnomes, plucked wildflowers, and, weirdly, a single pack of sliced cheese – soggy offerings that people had left for the fairies in exchange for good luck. This place had been part of local seelie and pixie lore for hundreds of years. Though most people no longer believed that little winged creatures lived in the wildflowers surrounding the woodland walk, people still brought gifts and allowed themselves, for a moment, to believe in magic.
It was his favourite place to take his nieces and nephews for that reason.
“Okay. Smile.”
Harper didn’t, instead angling her body sideways and sweeping her hair back, her gaze landing on the forest floor.
Fraser waited. Cleared his throat. Wondered if maybe she’d seen a spider and was paralysed by fear, as he secretly would be. “Erm… Are you alright?”
“Are you taking them or not?” She huffed, still frozen in position.
“Oh. I thought you were distracted.”
“I am trying to look natural! Candid!”
His brows lifted, but he tried his best to school his features into sober understanding. “Ah. I see that now. Sorry.” The phone clicked incessantly as he captured her, still staring downwards, still looking like she was trying not to step on a flower with one heel lifted off the ground.
She looked beautiful, of course, in a cream turtleneck and dark green tartan trousers beneath her duster coat. She always did. But he didn’t really get it. This wasn’t her. Her followers wouldn’t see her smile, or her bright eyes, or the way her entire body changed with every expression she made, every emotion she felt.
Selfishly, he was glad. He wanted to keep those parts for himself. Let him be the only one who really saw her, if only while she was here.
