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Whatever this was, whatever we were doing out here, I hoped we didn't have to walk this path back in the dark. It was already semi-dark in the thick of the trees. They were so dense that they blocked out the remaining sunlight, sucking its magical rays right out of the sky. And the trail gave off a creepy vibe. I imagined that vibe would intensify after the sun set.
Had I really said I was ready for an adventure? Turns out I was a big, fat, stinking liar.
"It's a church," Tyson informed me, thankfully dragging me out of my thoughts. "It's been preserved by magic and can only be seen by those who possess the ability to wield it. The only problem is you have to be an Alexander, either by blood or by marriage, in order to be able to walk through the door."
He lifted our joined hands to his mouth and pressed his lips against the top of my hand in a sweet kiss. His eyes came to mine and they twinkled mischievously. "Sadly, you're not an Alexander yet. So you won't be able to enter. Don't you worry though, gorgeous, we'll come back when you're an Alexander and you can check it out on the inside."
Hopefully it was dark enough—yeah, go ahead and call me a hypocrite, I didn't give a fuck, it was the sad truth—he wouldn't be able to see the color my cheeks were undoubtedly turning at the mention of my taking on his last name through marriage. I didn't have the heart to tell him that if I ever did get married, I had no intention of ever taking on a name different from my own.
If they wanted to call me Ariel Alexander, they were more than welcome to. It wouldn't negate the fact I'd always,always,be Ariel Kimber. Besides, there were five other last names besides his and my own that I would be able to choose from, because no way would I ever just marry one of them. I didn't care if it was not legal and probably highly frowned upon. That didn't mean a ceremony couldn't be performed and vows made to be kept until death do us part couldn't be uttered. Even if I did eventually legally marry one of them, we could all have that together, and despite it not being legal, it would mean everything to us. I was sure of it.
I cleared my throat and studiously avoided making eye contact. Since he'd ceased speaking, I asked the questions I assumed he wanted me to ask of him. "Why is it spelled and how come only Alexanders can enter the building?"
Better question—why had he broughtmehere with him?
"Our ancestors used to live here," he shared. "They built the church. They built the family crypt. And, further back, deep into the woods, there are the bare bones to the house that my great great whatever built and his family lived in. My ancestors are buried in the small, fenced in lot beside the church. My grandfather, Quinton's dad, his casket is in the crypt where he insisted and made certain it would be. My mother and father are in the ground. My grandmother is right beside them. That's how big of an asshole my grandfather was. Uncle Quint is supposed to go in the crypt with grandpa even though that's likely the last place he would ever want to lay to rest when searching for peace. Grandpa didn't much give a fuck about anyone outside of himself, which explains pretty much almost everything."
Oh goody.
None of that sounded like a good reason for the two of us to be here. And I was really, really glad Quinton's father was dead. Everything I'd heard about him made him sound like an absolute pile of garbage in need of being disposed of permanently.
I never asked Quinton about his father or Tyson about his grandfather. There were some things I knew from personal experience that no one should be forced to share if they did not want to. So, in that regard, I let them both be and would continue to do so until they brought it up first. I would force nothing on either of them, even when I damn well knew things would be different were the situations reversed. Neither of them were known for their patience or reservations.
Good thing I was different from them and not stupid.
Tyson and I kept walking the trail hand in hand, those clasped hands swinging playfully between our bodies. We barely fit side by side as we strolled down the uneven dirt path. It didn't take us long to make it to the opening before the church, and neither of us talked the remainder of the way. We were both too lost in our own thoughts to share a conversation with each other.
We cleared the trail and finally the sun shone down upon us once more. I looked around in surprise as my feet stuttered to a stop. Tyson kept moving and he pulled on my hand when my arm could stretch no further. Finally, he halted and turned inquiring eyes back my way.
His head cocked to the side as he studied me. He gave a gentle tug on my hand. I didn't move an inch.
"Why are you stopping, girl?" he asked, sounding curious. "We aren't quite there yet."
I frowned at him, thinking we were exactly where he said we were going. What else did he want to show me? Whatever it was, I hoped the walk wasn't far, because we were losing daylight and fast.
My curious eyes moved from Tyson to the church. It was bigger than I was expecting it to be, but looked like it belonged in an olden day village and even had its own jumbo-sized bell.
I could see someone getting married here. It looked magical, peaceful even. The grass surrounding the church was cut short and was a healthy, lush green, and I wondered who took care of it. Not just the grass, but the flower boxes on the windows and the rose bushes on either side of the front porch.
A wicker basket sat on the bottom step of the porch, and Tyson pulled on my hand, guiding me toward it. "Come on, girl. Don't just stand there with your mouth hanging open."
I kicked him in the shin. Not very hard though. What a brat.
He laughed at me as we approached the basket. It was clear to me he'd set this up before he'd made his approach in my closet to ask me to go somewhere with him. He must have figured me for a sure thing and knew I'd never tell him no.
He picked up the basket by the handle and I noticed the blanket beneath. It looked thick and warm, striped with various shades of brown and orange, and on two sides had a fringe of white strings.
I ignored the gray building off to the side completely. I had no desire to be anywhere near a crypt that housed the body of Quinton's dead, asshole father. No thank you, I'd pass on that one.
With the blanket tucked up under his arm and a hold on the basket handle, he pulled me along past the gray building. It gave off a cold, nasty vibe that made me shiver and put a damper on the magical, sweet feeling the church gave the rest of the clearing. Thankfully, when we cleared the building warmth from the slowly setting sun seeped into my skin and warmed me from the inside out.
"Um, Ty," I mumbled uncertainly when I caught sight of where we'd stopped. "This is a little, umm..."
Don't say creepy out loud, Ariel Kimber. Don't insult him that way.
But it was just a tad bit creepy. Tyson didn't seem to think so. He dropped my hand and sat the basket down on the grass. He spread the blanket out wide and allowed it to drop down to the grass beside a dainty, low white fence. The fence ran around in a complete square. Inside were the ornate tombstones of what I rightfully assumed to be members of the Alexander clan. None of these weren't in perfect condition and I assumed magic had to be involved somehow.
Tyson sat down on the blanket and sprawled out, getting comfortable. He patted the space beside him with the palm of his hand. "Come here."
