I’ve learned that letting something feel crazy, not rejecting the unfamiliarity of a situation . . . can lead to something amazing.”
“You’re talking about the club?”
“Partly,” she hedged. “Did you know me, Bethany, and Georgie formed the league because we all showed up for Zumba early? Really, it’s Kristin’s fault for being late.” She smiled to herself. “Now, Zumba. That gets an eye roll. Who wants to watch themselves dance in a mirror?”
Dominic rolled a shoulder. “I could never mind watching you dance.” They traded a ripple of heated eye contact, but he was enjoying talking to her too much to push it further. He didn’t want to credit Armie, but something about being removed from their usual setting—being out there in nature—made him appreciate being with her, hearing her voice, even more than he normally did. “How the hell are we supposed to rig up this wind chime?”
“Oh.” Rosie shook herself, obviously having forgotten their task. “I brought some string. Do you have your pocketknife?”
“Always.” He slipped the smooth object out of his back pocket and flipped open the narrowest cutting tool with his thumb. “What’s your plan? Put holes in some sticks and hang them?”
“Yes. Maybe attach some pennies to the bottom so they clang?”
“Not bad.”
Rosie laughed. “Not exactly good, either, but we’ll get away with it.” She pressed her lips together. “I think it goes against the hippie-cratic oath to give bad grades.”
He slow-clapped. “Nicely done.”
They spent a few minutes collecting sticks, Rosie retrieving them and Dominic whittling holes in the top.
“So . . . not rejecting something that feels crazy,” Dominic said, calling back her earlier words while twisting metal into wood. “Does that also apply to the restaurant?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, furrowing her brow. “Somewhere along the line, it did start to feel crazy. Taking that leap.”
Regret slithered in Dominic’s gut, knowing he’d been part of the reason opening her restaurant had become an unreachable goal. He could turn the tide now, though, couldn’t he? Here they were, talking—trying—so it couldn’t be too late.
“Sometimes when I was active duty,” he said, “home seemed like a dream. Like it wasn’t real and I’d never get back here again.” He nudged her with his elbow. “I almost always thought of you frowning over a recipe or dancing from the stove to the sink. And I knew home had to be real. You cooking is not a leap. You . . . doing anything you set your mind to is not a leap.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, sounding almost surprised. “I wish you’d do that more. Not . . . not encourage me, although that was really, really nice. But I mean talk about your time overseas. You’ve never talked to me about it.”
A bolt turned in the side of Dominic’s neck. The time he’d served with the military had been hard. It was hard for every soldier, being under the constant threat of attack, being so far removed from reality, you didn’t know how you’d make it back. Vocalizing that meant exposing a weakness, however, and he didn’t do that. Stiff upper lip. Be the strong one. He’d been raised with that mentality, and he worried that breaking that code might make him seem less dependable. Just . . . less. But he had to set aside those fears, because Rosie was watching him expectantly and—
A movement on Rosie’s shoulder caught his attention.
“Shit, honey. Don’t move.”
Her face lost some color. “What is it?”
Knowing if he said the word “spider” she would freak the fuck out, Dominic reached out to slap the eight-legged creature off her shoulder, but it scuttled away, he cursed, and Rosie launched into the air like a torpedo, slapping at every inch of exposed skin on her body and shaking out her hair. “Oh my God. Is it still on me? Get it!”
“Honey girl,” he said, biting down on a smile. “You have to stand still.”
“What? No!”
He gripped her by the shoulders and turned her around. “You probably knocked it off.”
“You’re just saying that,” she said miserably. “Oh my God. How big was it? Is it hairy?”
“You don’t want to know,” he said truthfully.
She screamed in her throat.
The spider reappeared on her arm, and Dominic smacked it off before she could become aware of it, watching as it hit the forest floor and disappeared beneath some leaves. “Gone. Got it.” He gave up on suppressing his laughter. “It can’t hurt you anymore.”
“You jerk.” Rosie threw herself into his arms, mouth pressed to his neck, her body