“Now,” I whisper, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, “Can I ask what the fuck that was about?”
She looks up at me and winces. “It was absolute stupidity is what it was.”
I wait for her to explain. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “A nest with three tiny baby birds fell to the ground out there. They were so little, they hardly had even any feathers. So I went down there and decided to try to get the nest put back. It was just under your deck, tucked in. Look.” She gets off my lap and tugs my hand to go back outside.
“Ooh, whoa. Woozy.” She sways at the sight of the broken deck and sinks back against me.
“Yeah, you’re afraid of heights, right? And you climbed a ladder to put the bird’s nest back? Why didn’t you wake me?”
She stares blankly at me and then slowly, her shoulders rise in a hesitant shrug. She’s used to fending for herself. And it pisses me off. She could’ve been hurt.
She continues explaining, “Sometimes I do stupid shit. And I’m a klutz. So… stupid shit plus klutziness can equal disaster.”
I blow out a breath.
She keeps talking. “So I very carefully carried it up, which wasn’t easy because I’m not remotely coordinated. I tried to just snug it back under there, but I had to lean a bit and…”
“And you could’ve broken your neck,” I say, anger rising.
She bites her lip. “Can we go back inside? This is makin’ me woozy.”
“Yeah, we’ll go inside. Go inside where I’ll spank your bare ass.”
I take her back inside and close the door. I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at my mate.
She’s staring at me with her top teeth embedded in her bottom lip, a flush in her cheeks. She looks embarrassed.
“I hate to break it to you, baby, but that momma bird might not come back after you fuckin’ with her nest,” I advise.
Amelia’s expression goes from contrite and embarrassed to mortified. “What?”
I nod.
“No!” she gasps.
“It’s what they say.”
She marches outside and returns with her phone.
A moment later, she’s scrolling her screen frantically.
“It’s most likely a rumor. She’ll probably come back.”
“I guess we’ll find out,” I say.
“If she’s not back soon, we need to go buy a syringe and some …” she keeps scrolling “cat food or dog food or meal worms. Ew.”
“We’ll see what happens. I’m gonna go fix that.”
“No! Leave the deck until we know the mother bird is back. If you go hammering and making a racket, she could stay away. Or you could knock their nest loose. It was built in a pretty small ledge.”
I watch her continue to scroll on her phone, nibbling on her lip as her eyes scan the screen.
***
The mother bird came back. And the joy in my mate’s eyes when that happened made me fall further in love with her.
She then insisted we need a bird feeder and bird bath, kept full directly below the deck so that the mother will have everything she needs to stay close and look after her babies. And a bird house so that birds can more safely have a place to store their nests rather than underneath my deck.
Despite the angry way she demands these things, like my lack of deck design and building skills are responsible for the whole ordeal, I am loving this woman more and more with every passing moment.
41
Amelia
Dangerous things are happening to me.
Extremely dangerous. Because I keep catching myself thinking about the future. A future with Mason.
Thinking while we eat the manicotti that it’ll be nice when the weather warms up some more and we can eat while watching the sunset outside. Thinking about barbecuing. I’m thinking about how many swimsuits I own and how I could get use of them in his pool. Not just the pool, the lake. It’s a bit soon for that, and I find myself hoping I’ll still be here in July and August when it’s nice enough to do all those things. And waterskiing. Tubing. Mason has all sorts of lake toys. I envision one of those party rafts with a trampoline, me, Ivy, Bailey, Skye, Mom, and Cicely all out there having a laugh.
I’m imagining being on Mason’s boat, steering while he’s wrapped those arms around me from behind, showing me how to drive. And I’m imagining Mom, Ivy, and our little brother Leo out there, too. I didn’t want to go on another cruise, being stuck on a big, crowded ship for a week with no land in sight and visions of the sinking Titanic in my brain, but an afternoon on a pretty lake on a boat with just a handful of us? I’m all over that idea.
I’m imagining playing darts at Roxy’s with him and his friends.
I’m imagining going for that pedicure with Skye. Calling up Cicely and Bailey to go do something. I’m thinking about making memories.