two weeks to the day, and for the last week, since the skunk incident on Monday, she’s been having dinner at our table.
Her house is soon going to be clear of the smell, probably will be by now, but we’ve all gotten used to her sharing meals with us, and yeah, I’ve gotten used to sharing a bed with her. That first night, I set her up in the loft, and I took the sofa, but it didn’t take long before I found myself between the sheets with her. She’s like an addiction I can’t quit, but if she’s still here in two weeks, I lose my goddamn farm.
Alyson picks up the bowl and hands it over, and as she goes back to eating, a permanent smile on her face, it occurs to me how much she likes being around my family. She’s an only child, so I can understand that. What was that she said about not bringing a child into the world? Something about not being able to care for one when she can’t care for herself. But it’s clear she loves being with my big family, and while she’s adamant that she’s not interested in marriage or commitment, she’s soaking this up faster than a dried-out sponge.
I take in her smile, her new haircut. After getting the honeycomb stuck in it, compliments of Cluck knocking her off her feet, she had to have an emergency hair appointment. The short cut is adorable and makes her eyes look even bigger.
Tyler grabs for his water. “Jesus, this gravy is hotter than a goat’s ass in a pepper patch.”
“Tyler, language,” Mom says and Alyson frowns.
“What does that mean?” she asks.
“Just some local lingo,” Mom explains.
“When is your friend coming?” Tyler asks, shooting a glance at Alyson.
Alyson’s head dips, a hint of sadness on her face. “I’m not sure she is. After the house was sprayed, I asked her to hold off.”
“We have room for her here,” Beck says.
She smiles at my brother, the affection she has for him all over her face. “You’ve all done enough for me already. I’m not going to ask you to put up my friend, too.”
“You’re probably missing home,” Mom says. “We don’t mind.”
She frowns and looks down again, fiddling with her potatoes. “I do,” she says, her voice lacking any sort of enthusiasm.
“Has Bryce been by again?” Mom asks as our eyes meet. My stomach roils. Jesus, does she know about the bet? “I ran into him in town this morning, and he said he’s surprised you’re still here, Alyson.”
“He’s called a few times, but I haven’t answered,” Alyson says.
“If he lowballs you again, I’ll—” Ty begins, but I cut him off.
“Tyler, stay out of it.”
“I’m just saying.” He nods at Alyson. “I’ve got your back.”
Alyson smiles at him, and my throat tightens. She’s bonded with every member of my family, much the same way Juanita had, and when she leaves here…
“How’re those dance moves coming?” Beck asks, and I’m grateful for the change in subject.
Alyson lights up. “The guys are doing fantastic. I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see Sara’s face when they do their routine.”
“You’re going to the wedding?” Mom asks.
She gives a noncommittal shrug and stifles a yawn. “I was invited.”
Mom turns to me again and gives me an all-knowing look. If she stays for Colin’s wedding, that means I lose everything.
Fuck me.
“Do you know you’ve got yellow on your face?” Beck asks.
Alyson touches her cheek. “I do?”
“Right here,” Beck says and wipes a spot beneath her ear.
She laughs. “I’m so tired by the time I get to painting, I end up with more on me than I do the house.”
“Maybe you should hire out?” Beck suggests.
She gives a fast shake of her head. “No, I can do it,” she says.
I get that she’s trying to prove something, and I admire her grit, but maybe there is more going on here. Maybe money is an issue. She only bought the bare minimum in clothing, and I’ve not seen her in anything designer since the first day I met her.
“Are you fixing the place up to sell it?” Tyler asks, his face falling.
“I just… Those cedar shingles needed a fresh coat of paint before fall,” she explains.
Tyler laughs. “You should ask Jay to help. He’s good at painting, especially high places.”
“Tyler,” I warn.
Alyson’s head bobs back and forth between Tyler and me. “What?” she asks. “I sense a story.”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Nothing other than he’s afraid of heights and nearly broke his