After We Fall

“You don’t really think that.”


Her turn to laugh. “Not really. But I don’t think camping will be fun, either.” We started to walk through the dark toward the shed, arms loaded with empty crates and boxes. “Actually, you know what? I think we would have fun at the fundraiser.”

“Oh yeah, why’s that?”

“I think we would have fun anywhere.”

I smiled, wondering who’d feel more out of place—Margot in a sleeping bag or me in a tux? It was a close call, but I think I’d win. Plus, I was only comfortable spending this time with her because whatever was between us would end when she left. I didn’t want to make any promises that extended beyond that day. “I’m sorry, Margot. But no.”

She sighed. “You’re so unfair. I have to leave my comfort zone for you, but you won’t leave yours for me?”

“You’re going to leave your comfort zone for you. I’m going to teach you valuable survival skills. Like how to light a match.”

“And when is this happening?”

“Let’s see. Today’s Wednesday, tomorrow night I’m watching Cooper, so how about Friday night?”

“Deal. Do I need a certain kind of clothes for camping?”

We reached the shed, and I laughed as I pulled the door open, picturing her decked out head to toe in some kind of designer camping gear, all in white. “Nope. You can wear anything. Or nothing’s fine too.”

“Hey, you two.”

I jumped, nearly dropping the armload I held, my nervous system kicking into high gear. It was Georgia walking toward us, and she hadn’t meant to startle me, but it took a moment to breathe normally again.

“Hey, Georgia.” Margot greeted my sister-in-law, but her eyes were on me.

“How’d it go?” Georgia asked, hands in her back pockets.

My heart was still beating too fast as I moved inside the shed and stacked boxes against the wall.

“Great,” Margot said. “I had a ball.”

A second later I felt her hand on my back—a brief, reassuring touch. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even make eye contact, but I knew what she was doing…and I appreciated it.

“A ball?” Georgia laughed as we came out.

“Yes. And I have a bunch of ideas for you.”

We began to walk back to the truck, and Georgia followed. “Margot was a natural,” I told her. “We sold out of everything we brought.”

“Really? Wow!”

“Did you get to see the house?” Margot asked.

Georgia shook her head. “Tomorrow at ten. Want to come along?”

“I’d love to!” Margot looked at me. “Unless Jack needs me for something.”

Fuck, she was cute. I smiled at her. “No, you can have tomorrow off.”

We reached the truck and Georgia peeked in the back. “You really did sell well today, huh?”

“It was all Margot,” I said. “I’m telling you. She’s got some kind of magic in her smile. No one can say no to her.”

Margot beamed. “That’s very flattering, but all I did was sell what you grew. That’s the real magic.”

Georgia looked over her shoulder at us, and my face felt hot. Why had I said that about her smile? Now Georgia probably suspected something.

“Come on, let’s get this done.” I tried to sound businesslike, but I was positive my sister-in-law’s mind was ticking. She stayed quiet the rest of the time it took us to unload the truck, and she’s never quiet.

“Well, goodnight, you two,” she said breezily when we were done. “Thanks again for working the market today. See you tomorrow. Oh Jack, you still on for babysitting tomorrow night?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Great, thanks. Night!”

“Night, Georgia,” Margot called. As soon as we were alone, she looked at me. “She knows.”

“Seems like it.”

“Are you OK with that?”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I thought for a second. It wasn’t so much I minded Georgia knowing, but I didn’t want her telling my brothers. They’d have a field day. They’d ruin it. But that wasn’t Margot’s problem. “Yeah, I’m fine. Georgia gets me.”

She nodded. “Seems like it.”

We stood there for a moment while the crickets chirped and wind rustled through the birch trees nearby. Lonely, nighttime sounds. But I don’t want to be alone tonight. More than that—I don’t want to leave her.

“So.” I took a step closer to her.

She smiled. “So.”

“What would you like to do?”

“Honestly? I really need a shower.”

I cocked a brow. “What a coincidence.”



I stared at the tub. “Really? A bubble bath? I don’t think I’ve taken one of these in thirty years.” We’d stopped in at the cabin—Margot had waited on the porch—so I could grab clean clothes, then gone back to her cottage, where she’d filled up the bathtub with hot water and bubbles.

Margot giggled. “Then you’re due. How old are you, anyway?”

“Thirty-three. You?”

“I’ll be thirty next month.”

“And you still take bubble baths?”