When the Woods Go Silent (Haret Chronicles: Dark Fae #1)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

R UBY

It’s been almost two days since Torrence left me on read after suggesting a double date. Loser.

Unfortunately, there’s something about him that my stubborn brain can’t let go of, not to mention the delicious treats he sent us. If I could eat at Goblin Market every day, I would, and not only for the chance to see him.

Rose has already written off both guys, but in the privacy of my own mind, I keep making excuses for him. People make mistakes. They get busy. They have insecurities - although I can’t imagine what someone who looks like Torrence could have to be insecure about.

I sigh and stretch in my office chair, arching my back so far that my butt slides off the seat. I need to stay focused on the store and stop fantasizing about a guy who won’t even text me. The days are slipping by so quickly now, as we approach our grand opening. Rose snickers when I slither down onto the worn wooden floor like a wilting flower.

“Break time?” she offers, cracking her neck. We’ve made really good headway on the boxes of unshelved books today, even finding a box tucked away in the office cabinets, full of books that look old enough to be worth some big money to a collector. William was quite a book hoarder, and sometimes I wonder if he even remembered what he had stashed away in closets.

“Ugh. Definitely break time. My butt’s going flat from sitting here,” I complain, going starfish on the floor of the kitchen-turned-office.

“Just wait. Soon enough, you’ll be whining about your sore feet from running around helping customers all day.”

“I hope so,” I say, unable to keep the rare hint of doubt from my voice. Will this really work? Yeah, our online presence is fantastic, but what if nobody actually comes to the store? Stuff of nightmares.

“Hey, I can practically hear you thinking those negative thoughts. Maybe we should go for a hike or something.”

Even though I’m sprawled flat on the floor, my eyes snap up to hers. “Really?” Rose rarely suggests going on hikes with me, preferring to stay on the sidewalks.

“I mean, nothing too strenuous. But I could use a quick stretch.” She laughs and snaps her laptop closed.

“Race you to change!” I throw myself up and toward the back stairs, giggling as Rose shrieks something about fairness. As if that ever mattered. Of course, I’m going to beat her. She never knows where her stuff is, and she’s on all fours digging in her closet for shoes when I lean against the door frame.

“No flat asses here,” I tease. We both know I’m a little jealous of her pinup girl figure.

“You’re welcome.” Her voice is muffled, but she sits back momentarily, holding up tennis shoes in triumph. “If I wear these, we have to stay on the damn trail,” Rose warns me, lacing them up.

“Fine. I promise. But you really should get some actual hiking boots.”

She sticks out her tongue, but I know it’s in good fun. Maybe I’ll buy her some myself. She can’t say no if it’s a gift, right? We grab our water bottles and head out the front door of the shop, setting the alarm behind us.

“It’s so cool to be able to just check out of work whenever we want,” Rose says, breathing in deeply as we cross the empty street to head into the woods.

“I know, right? I mean, of course when the store opens, we’ll be good. But I think we’re going to love this.”

“I already do,” she answers, smiling back at the store, and I love hearing that she’s settling in better.

It doesn’t take long before we’re deep enough that the trail is shadowy and cooler, although it truly feels like a spring day otherwise. The forest floor has new green patches of moss, and we spot several early spring flowers and tendrils of baby ferns that don’t need much sun. I’d love to show Rose the fairy ring, but even I know that’s too far. And definitely not on the trail.

Instead, we stop in front of an otherworldly wall of rock formations to snap a few selfies, playing with the sunlight filtering through the trees.

“What’s that?” Rose asks suddenly, snagging my phone and zooming in on a blurry figure in the background, near the top of the rock wall. She turns and scans the rocks behind us, frowning and handing me the phone as it dings. “It looks like a person, but nobody’s up there.”

I squint at the photo, less certain. “I think it’s just weird lighting,” I say, opening a new text message. My chest floods with excitement as I read it.

Dinner tonight? Market is closed, but Arlo and I would love to have you to ourselves.

“Redemption is mine,” I crow, waving the phone at Rose.

“Damn,” Rose says, sounding impressed. “And here I was beginning to think he wasn’t real.”

“Shut up.” I smack her arm lightly, grinning like crazy. “We’re going, right?” Even though Torrence took his sweet time, I really, really want to meet up with him again.

“Don’t forgive him too easily. Make him work for it,” Rose warns, but she’s smiling, too.

“Oh, he’ll be on his knees working for it.” I cackle, typing out a quick reply.

“Good girl. That means we have to turn around now, though. Time to shower!”

I don’t argue - I’ve had Rose in the woods for at least forty-five minutes now, and she’s eating her pride for dinner, too. I know she thinks Arlo is a waste of time. “Thank you, Rosey.” I give her a quick sideways hug.

“Hey, no worries. I can still get something from Arlo, if he begs a little. Flings equal fun, right?”

“He said seven, so we have plenty of time,” I assure her, reading Torrence’s answer as we turn back. He seems eager enough to see me now. Guess he’s just been busy. My fingers cross as I dare to hope that this will be a great night and maybe another new beginning.

“Good, because you’re going to help me pick out an outfit. Maybe I’ll wear a skirt this time.”

Rose’s grin makes me happy, and I’m so glad she’s going to let herself enjoy this. Sometimes she’s so fast to dismiss a guy that she misses out on the possibility of anything more than a single night.

I know it’s how she keeps her heart safe, but sometimes a safety net can turn into ropes that only keep you tied up. And not in a fun way.

“So, if you want a skirt, it absolutely has to be this one.” I pull the slinky mermaid cut from its hanger in Rose’s closet, sliding my palm across the deep rose-colored silk. Freaking gorgeous.

“Isn’t that a little fancy?” Rose scrunches up her nose, even though she knows damn well that skirt makes her look amazing.

“Pair it with a simple sweater. Some ankle boots, maybe? Nothing strappy.” I rummage through her stuff, lamenting again that none of our clothes fit each other. I have the perfect boots for this, but my feet are two sizes smaller. Rose reaches past me and grabs a cream-colored sweater with a deep neckline. It has elbow-length sleeves and isn’t too heavy.

“Perfect,” she says, holding it against the skirt. “Maybe a little wintry, but it’s still not exactly summer out there.”

“How about these?” I ask, pulling out a pair of knee-high leather boots with a kitten heel.

“Sure. I’ll try it all on after I shower. What about you?”

I grin. “I’m wearing that new biker jacket I got in New York.” The only time any of us had left the conference, we’d gone shopping, and I’d caught an end-of-season sale on a gorgeous vegan leather jacket. I feel like such a badass in it - it’s the kind of look I’ve always loved but could never afford the right pieces for.

“And you better wear some heels,” Rose advises. “Like those platform boots with all the buckles.”

I hum in agreement, thinking about how tall Torrence is. I would definitely like to be a little closer to his face. Or a lot.

By six-thirty, we’re mostly ready. Standing side by side at the double sinks in my bathroom - because getting ready together is more fun - we apply the final touches to our makeup and hair.

“We are hot as fuck,” Rose announces, fluffing her ginger curls. She’s wearing some extra lash clusters at the outside corners of her eyes and lots of smoky eyeshadow. Her lips are pale pink, and she looks like a damn bombshell with all her cleavage and hips.

“Hell yes, we are,” I murmur, leaning into her and smiling at our reflections in the mirror. I actually have the look I’ve wanted for so long - dark, skintight jeans, an edgy, asymmetrical shirt with a wide neck, and the coolest jacket I’ve ever owned. I’ve painted my lips my signature ruby-red, and glints of silver earrings peek through my dark hair.

I used to envy Rose’s curves because in jeans and a t-shirt, she looks like a pinup and I look like a teenage boy. But something is changing inside me. Has been for a little while. Maybe it’s being halfway through my twenties, or the fact that I’ve been on my own for so long. Or maybe my confidence was boosted by the money - knowing I can take care of things for myself and Rose is pretty powerful.

And for sure, the move back to Clearwater has settled me. Whatever it is, the girl I see in the mirror tonight finally looks like the girl I see in my mind’s eye, when I visualize my perfect life.

“Welcome home, Rosey,” I whisper, and she kisses the top of my head.

“Babes before boys,” she shoots back, lessening the serious moment and letting the excitement back in. We’re going on a double date. Like the freaking movies, or something.

“And books. Books before boys,” I add.

“Well, of course. But why can’t we have it all?”

“You know, I think we can. Why choose? This is our moment.” I’ve said it a hundred times over the past several months of figuring out the store, the move, the paperwork, the thousands of details involved in setting up a business. And the more I speak it into existence, the realer it feels. Surely, having a bestie, a bookshop, and a boyfriend isn’t asking the universe for too much.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Rose says, tugging me out of the bathroom.

“I know what you’re hungry for,” I tease, and she scoffs, laughing.

“Let’s go get fed, then.”

When we near the restaurant, I see there are one or two lights on in the dining room, but it definitely isn’t fully lit up. A blond man is standing outside talking to a group of people, and I catch the words “private party.”

“That’s us,” Rose stage-whispers, making me laugh as the guy grins at us, giving Rose a knowing little wink.

The people turn away, watching curiously as we approach. I can’t lie, I feel pretty special right now.

“You ladies look good enough to eat,” he says, raking his eyes down Rose’s figure. Oh, damn. She has him wrapped already.

“No dessert without dinner first,” Rose answers, letting him place a hand against her lower back.

“What if I want dessert first?”

“Tonight isn’t about what you want, blondie,” she says, her voice sliding down to sultry. “This one’s for the girls.”

I want to cheer and give her a fist bump, but I settle for a smirk.

Torrence appears in the doorway to the kitchen as Arlo ushers us into the dining room, where only a corner is lit up. He holds up a platter of mixed appetizers, and my mouth is watering for more than one reason.

“This is for all of us.” His other hand comes from behind his back, flourishing a bottle of their house-made pomegranate liqueur, and I happily settle into one of the offered seats, feeling like a celebrity.

This is going to be a fantastic night.