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HELEN
Ibolted the door shut and stood against it, unable to contain my grin. Last night quite literally may have been the best night of my life. I had never felt so cared for or beautiful with any other man. Then I remembered our discovery on the walk back this morning and how Brenton had told me he trusted me. My heart sank for a moment. Did my family really try to scam TruFruit? If so, that had to have been why Dudley was fired. This mystery just kept getting weirder and weirder, and way too entangled with Brenton’s life for my comfort.
I desperately hoped that my ticket to the inheritance wasn’t stealing Brenton’s patented idea for one damn apple species. That would make me no better than the rest of my family, who have put TruFruit through enough hell. I hoped that Dudley already had a solution for this tree and all I needed to do was see it through once I found the rest of the journal. I needed to find it for answers, but at the same time I was scared at what it might hold. If the only way I could get the inheritance was through immoral means, through hurting Brenton and breaking his trust, I’d have to find another way. I supposed I could say screw it all and head back down to San Francisco and my publishing job, but I was finally starting to like it here, to like it with Brenton, and I was finally inspired to write. I didn’t want to lose all that just yet.
Plus, if I left before I finished Dudley’s plan, I wouldn't be able to sell the property to Brenton like I’d promised. I made up my mind to keep searching for the journal. I’d decide what to do after I had collected all of the necessary information. I headed outside to do some weeding in the backyard and grew surprised at how quickly I had come to enjoy this property and my routine here. At first, I thought I was being punished for having to stay up in the hills, but how I had felt this past week, and especially these past couple of days, was invigorating. I didn’t want to lose that feeling.
I spent the rest of my day weeding, searching the property for the journal, writing, and baking. I had some work projects to finish, but I figured I could take a few extra days to do them. Right now, I had other priorities and I’d be back soon. Per my condition to Wally, I only had a few days left until my two weeks were up. I considered calling him and telling him I’d take the entire month after all, but I couldn’t avoid my real job forever, no matter how badly I’d wanted to. I was hopelessly confused and lost. Luckily, Brenton interrupted me before a panic attack could ensue.
He found me in the backyard on all fours, pulling out an impressively large bunch of weeds.
“Hey,” he greeted me on his side of the fence. “May I come in?”
“Oh, you’re asking now?”
“I seem to remember a very angry and intimidating neighbor calling me a trespasser more than once. Needless to say, I learned my lesson.”
“Well, I’m glad. And yes, you can come in.”
Brenton opened the gate door and knelt beside me, pulling a few weeds of his own.
“So, I had a favor to ask of you. Turns out I will be needing your services to retrieve my truck after all.”
“Oh, sure. Your friend couldn’t make it?”
“No, busy day at the shop apparently. He said he could try to send a guy tomorrow. Otherwise, he told me to facetime him when I got back to the car and he’d try to talk me through fixing it.”
“Alright.” I stood up and dusted off my jeans. “Shall we?”
“I’ll go grab my tools.”
I met Brenton at my car after changing back into the boots he had let me borrow. If we got stuck again, I was going to be prepared. We set off in the direction of last night’s campsite. Once there, my pulse began to quicken and I could feel my face flush as I remembered the intimate moments we had shared here. Brenton hopped out of the passenger seat and opened the hood of his truck, phone in hand. I followed with his tool bag.
“Hey Jim. Here’s what we’re looking at,” I heard him say.
They talked back and forth for a bit, while Brenton followed Jim’s instructions and I handed him the tools he pointed at. After twenty minutes or so, Brenton got in his truck and tried to start it. It roared to life and he honked his horn in triumph.
“Thanks, Jim! I owe you one!” He hung up the phone.
“And thank you for your help.” Brenton leaned over and kissed me on my cheek.
“Anytime.” I blushed.
“I love how pink your cheeks get.”
“One of the few perks of being a ginger.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I love everything about your features. Your bright, fiery hair, the freckles all over your body, your delicate, soft skin, and perhaps most of all, the way it changes color to show me exactly how you feel about my touches.”
At this, Brenton lowered his head again and planted a soft kiss on my neck, working his lips back up to my cheek. When he was done, he looked in satisfaction at the reaction he had caused. Based on the heat I felt, I could tell I was most definitely bright red.
“Would you like to come over for dinner when we get back?” Brenton asked. “I can try those steaks again.”
I laughed. “I’d love to.”
We got in our vehicles and I followed Brenton back to his house, eager in anticipation of our evening. I had no doubt the night would end in his bedroom and I couldn’t wait to make up for the last night we had spent in his bed.
We neared his home, when he slammed on the brakes in front of me and forced me to do the same. My breath caught and I let out a brief squeal. I looked up just in time to see an all black, rusted car go speeding across the intersection, coming from the direction of Brenton and I’s homes. It was blasting music, so loud I could make out every word in the song. As soon as it was past, Brenton put on his signal and slowly turned the corner.
