I needed a hot shower. My hair was a tangled mess, twisted and tugged on from Mark’s hands the night before. I’d thrown it up in a messy bun this morning with the intention of cleaning up as soon as I got home.
But here I was, sharing a love seat with my mother while I still smelled like Mark’s sheets. And I was pretty sure I was sporting beard burn on my neck.
Casually I reached up and removed the elastic band, attempting to smooth the strands down to cover my throat.
“You know you don’t need to be embarrassed, honey.”
Oh, I begged to differ. No one wanted their parent catching them after sneaking in from spending the night with their boyfriend. Especially a secret boyfriend I couldn’t even admit to seeing. And it wasn’t like Mark could spend time with me in the garage apartment, not unless we wanted to hide his truck in the fields and try smuggling him in without setting off the new motion-sensor floodlights on the property.
I sighed.
Yes, things with Mark were going great. We’d had a solid month together so far. Homemade dinners at his place. Takeout pizza and movie nights on his couch. Bonfires in the garden. Taking photographs up at Craggy Peak and Juniper Point. And nights in Mark’s bed.
He brought me flowers from his greenhouse for my office. We worked together in the Apple House, and then he’d helped me get the space ready for the tree lot that had kicked off last weekend, following Thanksgiving.
Mark had joined my family for the holiday too. While it had been nice to sit beside him at the dinner table, I couldn’t do more than press my knee against his. I wanted to hold his hand or tease him about the pie we’d baked together and burned the night before because we’d gotten distracted. But secrecy was still paramount, and I had to be careful with my glances.
We still parked my mother’s car in his garage whenever I came over. When I spent the night, I always woke up to a blaring alarm on my phone, signaling it was time to hide what we were to each other, reminding me to get home before someone noticed me missing.
I knew Mark was only doing it for me—for my reputation, and to prevent any awkwardness at work. However, some days it was harder than others to remember the reasons why.
When I was dressing in the dark and pressing sleepy kisses to Mark’s mouth, I felt like I was, once again, someone’s dirty little secret. Guilt hovered just beneath the surface even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was only being with someone I cared about, someone who cared about me in return. There was no secret wife and child this time, no adultery or workplace misconduct. But sometimes my heart had a hard time separating the past from the present.
“You’re an adult,” Mom continued, drawing me out of my worries. “And you don’t need to hide. You can be honest with us. We’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, whatever that may be.”
Her tone changed at the end. I glanced over to read her expression, but she didn’t appear anything beyond open and reassuring.
Briefly, I wondered if my mother could see the secrets I was keeping. Not just my month-long relationship with Mark, my parents’ favorite employee, but the other things I was hiding beneath the surface. The truth about my return to Kirby Falls. My reluctance to leave. How I hadn’t done more than update my résumé and glance at job listings. The way I couldn’t bring myself to apply for a single position anywhere.
For a moment I considered coming clean, admitting that I didn’t want to find another job or move back to the city—any city. I wanted to stay right here and work on the farm with my family, live in my hometown, and be...happy.
But then my mother smiled and patted my knee. “We’re just so happy to have you here, Candy. Even if it’s just for a little bit until you need to get back to your life. Your father and I want you to feel comfortable while you’re home, and if that includes having a...playdate, shall we say?—”
“Oh, God,” I groaned in mortification.
“—then that is fine with your father and me.”
“No, it’s not!” my dad yelled from just inside the doorway to the kitchen.
I covered my face with my hands as my mother laughed.
“He’s kidding,” she said happily while attempting to pry my fingers away from my heated cheeks. “He knows you’re a grown woman. And sometimes women have needs?—”
“Nope,” I said and stood abruptly, casting the blanket off my legs in the process. I’d rather get hypothermia than have this conversation. “I am not mature enough to discuss this.” Without making eye contact, I hurried toward the screen door. “Thank you for understanding, Mom. Let’s never speak of this again. I will see you later.”
“Bye, sweetie!” she called. Her amusement followed me across the lawn.
I picked up my pace as the wind nipped at my bare legs.
Maybe it was the run-in with my mother and all the feelings it brought up, but afterward, I’d texted Mark to see if I could stay over the following Sunday night.
Monday was his day off next week, and I figured I could just go in late in the hope that we could wake up together, or at the very least, without an alarm getting me up and out of bed before daybreak.
Sunday rolled around, and I parked my car in the garage as usual. Mark made cabbage roll soup for dinner. Apparently, I’d gone twenty-five years without realizing I liked cabbage, or maybe I just liked it the way Mark made it, in a creamy tomato base with rice and ground beef. Either way, dinner had been cozy and comforting, much like the man himself. With it being December, I’d been in the mood to watch something festive, so we streamedDie Hardand argued over whether it was a holiday movie or not.
Later, when we were in bed, I felt like I should give Mark a heads-up about Mom. I didn’t think she’d made the connection between us—I doubted she’d be able to hide her excitement if she’d accurately pieced together who I was having aplaydatewith.
Good Lord.
