Page 41 of Quiver

Her eyes went wide, and all the air from her lungs hit Fletcher all the way across their table. The two of them stared at each other as the name echoed through the room, and all the years between tonight and when she’d used it last.

They stayed suspended like that until breathing grew painful, and the waitress returned in all her mercy. “Here’s your water and a hot bowl of soup to warm you up, if Fletch here hasn’t already.”

Kylie finally blinked up at her, then around the room, and back across the table.

“Thanks, Sharon,” Fletcher said quietly.

“No worries, kids. Nice to see some things don’t change.”

She couldn’t share the assessment, but neither did she want to prolong yet another awkward conversation. She pushed a spoon across to Kylie. “Eat.”

Kylie stared at the silverware for a second before lifting her eyes. “What?”

“Eat your soup.”

Some natural defiance mechanism must’ve kicked in at receiving a direct order, because she pursed her lips and tightened her jaw as if working up another outburst, but at least Fletcher had her attention again.

“I ordered for you during your catatonic hissy fit, and I suggest you put something in your mouth unless you want to keep telling the whole town your business.”

Kylie widened her gaze to take in her surroundings, and several people who’d been watching her looked away nervously. “Ugh, how many hours before the tabloids hear about me mumbling the internal monologue in my outside voice?”

“No one here even knows how to get hold of the paparazzi,” Fletcher said flatly, “and even if they did, none of them would haul their slimy selves up to Vermont in the middle of a snowstorm for you these days.”

Kylie laughed, a sharp sound that seemed to surprise her as much as it did Fletcher. “There’s one upside to losing my integrity and my career cachet in one fell swoop. After the initial backlash, no one will care about anything I do ever again.”

With that happy thought, she picked up her spoon and ladled a few helpings of chicken and noodles into her mouth. She closed her eyes and let out a little moan. “Oh Lord, that’s good.”

Fletcher didn’t respond, at least not verbally. Her body had other reactions, from the tightening of her heart to the loosening of her shoulders. She didn’t have to understand the impulse or even approve of it to admit the sight of Kylie surrendering to such a simple pleasure moved her. Then again, maybe any kind of surrender on those stunning features would have the same effect. Even a few minutes without arguing or angling for something more offered a nice change, so Fletcher sat back and watched her eat, noting the flutter of dark lashes against smooth skin, the pink of warmth rising to her cheeks, the press of full lips with a slight upward quirk at the corners.

The silence stretched between them, but for the first time in their adulthood, it didn’t feel awkward. Maybe the playing field had leveled a little bit. Maybe she felt safer with Kylie off-kilter. Maybe she needed a little reminder this woman was every bit as human as she was. She didn’t know much for sure, but she did know one thing. She didn’t have any intention of walking out on her right now.

Kylie scraped the last of her soup into her mouth and let the spoon clatter in the bowl, the warmth spreading through her so much more soothing than the shame and frustration burning through her on arrival. “I needed that.”

“Seems like you need a lot of things, but chicken noodle is never a bad place to start.” Fletcher rose and threw a few bills on the table. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home so you don’t freeze it all off again.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to go back to my parents’ house yet. They aren’t home, and I’m not sure I’m ready to be alone in my old bedroom again. It’s messing with my mind.”

“Sure, yeah, it’s probably the bedroom.” The comment was sarcastic, but her tone didn’t carry any bite. “You want me to stay here for a bit with you?”

Kylie looked up at the dark eyes she’d avoided most of their meal. The simple request delivered without the usual acidity made it feel safer, at least for a moment, but as she met that serious gaze, all the concern and conflict behind them brought back a million memories of other times Fletcher had soothed her simply by staying. Nothing seemed as secure or stable as it had back then.

Glancing away again, she noticed several other people within earshot, a few of them leaning in as if aching for a chance to slide closer. “Actually, we’ve probably already offered this place enough fuel to keep the rumor mill spinning for weeks. Maybe you could give me a ride … I don’t know, somewhere else.”

Fletcher nodded. “Sure. I need to let Bear out anyway. You can come with me to the farm, and then I’ll bring you back to town when you’re ready.”

She rose, recognizing the best offer she’d had in a while. They walked out to Fletcher’s black truck, only tonight it was nearly white with snow. Fletcher clicked the locks and nodded for her to climb in before grabbing a brush to clear the windshield. There’d been an inch or two of snow daily since she’d arrived, but it was coming down hard now. By the time Fletcher had cleared one side, the other was nearly covered again, and when she climbed into the cab, she had to shake fat flakes from her dark curls and broad shoulders.

“I didn’t know we were supposed to get a storm tonight. I can’t even remember the last time I checked the weather. I guess I’ve been in total work mode.”

“I noticed.” Fletcher fired up the truck and pulled out. “You’ve always had a one-track mind when you want something bad enough.”

She eyed her in the passing streetlight, wondering if they were both remembering a time when what she’d wanted most had been her.

“The character trait always served me, but since I probably already made it clear back there how close I am to the edge, I think I can admit now I may’ve bitten off more than I can chew this time.”

“Because you lied to someone named Sophia?”

“I didn’t lie. I embellished.”