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“Harry peed his pants once when a daddy longlegs crawled over his arm,” Duncan said. “Remember that, Nate?” The children giggled.
“You’re an asshole, Duncan,” Temperance said.
Harry shoved Duncan away from him. “I was akid,dickhead.”
“Language,” Ma snapped.
“Language!” Alice gleefully echoed.
“Not that it matters, but biologically speaking, daddy longlegs aren’t spiders,” Rowan interjected, standing.
“You say potato, I say daddy longlegs are spiders,” Duncan said.
“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” Rowan replied.
Harry was simultaneously hypnotized and disgusted by the spider wobbling across Rowan’s knuckles. Back in the fall, she’d guided him through the gauntlet of spiders in the meadow. She’d been impatient at first, but she’d quickly softened to bring him out of a spiraling anxiety attack. He’d only known her for a few days, but even then, he’d trusted her.
He might’ve fallen in love with her a little bit that day.
Rowan allowed the children to study the spider for a few more moments, then she took it away from the crowd to deposit it into the trees farther away from the gathering. She returned directly to Harry and showed him her empty hands, then placed them both against his chest. His breath caught. That simple touch packed the same punch to his nervous system as when she’d grabbed his balls minutes ago. Everyone watched, but she didn’t seem to care.
It felt huge.
“You okay?” she whispered.
“I am now,” he whispered back.
“To them, we’re simply another surface. Moving terrain. She didn’t want to hurt you.”
His family was quiet around them, watching. The night was alive with the chorus of insects and frogs, and he smelled the sunscreen on Rowan’s skin. What would happen if he kissed her, right then and there?
Too late. She let her hands slide away, and picked up her plate and roasting stick to join everyone at the fire.
“She’s the spider whisperer,” Harry heard Duncan say as she walked away.
“More like—the Uncle Harry whisperer,” Alice said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Harry
After dinner and s’mores, everyone sat around the fire on the hand-scraped wooden benches Harry and Duncan had salvaged from the bank barn. Harry sat next to Temperance, with Rowan directly across the fire from them.
Grey climbed into Rowan’s lap. Her arms went around him, easy and loose, and she popped a quick kiss on his hair as he settled in. His tiny fingers twined with hers, and without breaking conversation with Ma and Maren, she absentmindedly bobbled him up and down on her knees. Harry’s eyes caught hers over the little boy’s head. Sequins of firelight shone in her inscrutable copper eyes.
Temperance nudged a shoulder into his arm. “Anything you want to discuss, Dr. Brady?”
Harry leaned forward and looked down at his hands. “About?” He glanced across at Rowan through a lowered brow, fully aware he was as transparent as gin to Temperance.
“Really, you’re going to play coy?” She leaned back a bit to fix him with narrowed eyes.
“Nah.”
“Okay. Doesn’t matter, anyway. I just got more information than I could have ever hoped for by the look on your face right now.”
Harry cracked his knuckles and studied the dark grass between his feet. “I’m in way deeper than she is, and it’s a problem.”
“You’re in love with her,” Temperance whispered, knocking into him with her shoulder.
