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André started loosening Dante’s belt so he could get to the snap on his jeans.
“I won’t argue with that.”
“You would if you could.” The words were muffled though, since Dante had finished with André’s shirt and had dropped to his knees.
Later, André stretched and rolled out of the bed. It was pretty comfortable for a state park-sourced mattress. But he was more interested in the man on the other side of the room.
“I could get used to watching you cook mostly naked.”
Dante’s shoulders shook with silent laugher as he stirred the red sauce he was heating up for their dinner. “Unlike Morrison, I am not going to scald my junk.”
“I very much appreciate your diligence.”
Unzipping his roller bag, André pulled out a pair of fresh boxers, Levis, and a t-shirt. Once he wouldn’t scare anyone who might stroll past their small cabin, he padded to the window and looked out over the small bay.
The swoop and rise of dark wings over the water caught his attention. What looked to be a crow flew out from the woods and across the bay, directly toward the scraggly line of vacation cottages. As it swiftly closed the distance to the cabins, André realized he was seeing a damn huge raven.
“Whoa,” he murmured, stepping as close as he could to the window.
The raven slowed its wings and banked slightly. And then, with an abruptness that shocked him, it was directly in front of André, landing in a flurry of motion on the tiny, covered patio.
Not wanting to scare it away, André stayed perfectly still, hardly breathing. Beady black eyes filled with intelligence of a different kind seemed to be looking through the window right at him. He could literally feel the animal observing him, judging him.
The creature cocked its head to one side almost as if listening for something—or maybe someone? When it didn’t seem to hear anything, the bird slowly lowered its head and opened its beak to let an object drop to the ground. Whatever the thing was, it landed with an audible smack against the wood decking.
Lifting its head again, the raven stared directly into the window at the spot where André stood inside. The intensity of its scrutiny was not something André would forget quickly. Then, with a flap of its huge wings, the raven took flight again, soaring back across the bay and disappearing back into the woods.
“What the fuck was that?” Dante asked from directly behind him.
“I have no idea.”
Opening the door, André stepped outside, curious to see what the big bird had left behind. The thirty-second encounter had seemed so purposeful, intentional. The object sparkled in the dying summer sunshine.
Bending down, André picked up the circle of gold and examined it closely. An empty setting gaped where a tiny gem had once been safely nestled. He’d need his reading glasses for the engraving he could feel on the inside of the band.
“A ring? The crow brought you a present?”
“That was a raven,” André corrected. “And, yes, oddly enough, I think it did.”
* * *
