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I’d just taken another huge swig of cider, and instead of spewing it everywhere, half of it goes down the wrong pipe, and I start choking. Almost violently.
“Did you say feet?” I wheeze as he comes around the counter and slaps my back.
“Yes. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone has their fetishes. I mean just the other day, Amelia and I were talking about role-playing, and?—”
“STOP!” I hold up my hands. “I don’t want to know this,” I tell him as I back away.
“But I just want you to know it’s okay.”
Is this a therapy session or something? He’s somehow consoling me and scolding me at the same time. Only I’m clueless here!
“Cole! What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The emails.” He throws his hands out.
“What emails?” I set the glass down and glare at him.
“From the dating website.”
“I’m not on any dating sites.” I shake my head like he’s lost his damn mind.
“Yes, you are. Amelia and I looked you up after the first couple came in.”
“You what! Where?”
“Binder.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I see red.
“Nope. Are you saying you didn’t set it up?”
“Hell, no. Can you imagine if word of this got out? What does it say?”
“That you like feet.”
Oh. My. God.
Who would do this?
I start pacing back and forth, thinking of all the ramifications of this. Maybe someone just used my photo and is catfishing people, but that can’t be right because they used the orchard’s email address. And that’s when it hits me.
I stop in front of Cole, and I can’t help the volume of my words as they come pouring out of me.
“That little witch!”
“Who’s a witch?” he asks, eyes big with excitement over me figuring this out.
“You know she did this, and she’s just sitting over there in her house probably having a grand time laughing.” I throw out my hand in her direction.
“You think Cora did this?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t! What a fucking debacle.”
Turning, I storm out of the barn. I’m halfway to her house when the curse of the mountain strikes again. Instead of the beautiful notes from the cello that I hear nightly, a high-pitched wail from Cora’s smoke alarm stretches from across the trees to me. Instantly, my anger is gone, fear sweeps through me, and I take off for her.
Running through the open front door, I head straight for the kitchen and find Cora using a baking sheet to try to fan the smoke out of the window over the sink.
