“Don’t you worry about your mother. I got an idea.”
Whatever his idea was, she was on board, just so long as he stayed right here with her, flooding her senses, overwhelming her system.
“Okay?”
The only answer her word received was a deep breath in from him. He was smelling her, smelling her scent, breathing her in. Could he smell how wet she was? Could he smell the lust fogging her brain? Could he smell how confused she felt, how distracted she was? Was he aware of what he was doing to her?
“But if I move forward with the idea tonight, I’ll pin you right down into this dirt and burn us both.”
It wouldn’t be a terrible price to pay, her death, just to taste him once.
She was ready to do it, to end the distance, to turn her head and catch his lips, only he took a step back, allowing the cold to rush into the space he left behind, leaving her skin icy despite his nearby presence.
“Clear your schedule for next Thursday,” he said, and took a few more steps backward, away from her. “Eight days. Can you wait that long?”
Wait? What was she waiting for? Why was he pulling away? Why was he leaving her?
He had an idea! Something that might change things! Clearly, it was important, if he had asked to speak to her alone on the night of a full moon. Why wasn’t he telling her more? Why was he walking away? What the hell was going on?
“What do you mean?” She wanted answers, not more questions. Her life was full of that, questions without answers, open ended wondering, and so many paths that led nowhere. “At least tell me what your idea is.”
“Next Thursday,” he urged again. “I’m gonna keep my distance until then.”
She could see his grin sparkling even with only the moon to light him up, and then he turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone. Why the hell had he asked to speak privately, if all he really wanted to discuss was him wanting her to himself over a week from then? Why was he being so cryptic?
What the hell was his idea?
Ugh, and she had missed him... Why? Men were stupid, and—
And now, she was absurdly cold, standing alone outside without a jacket on, and no soulmate to warm her up.
Really, really stupid. She wouldn’t miss him one bit.
Whythehellwashe staying away for a full week and a day? After coming twice a day for a week? And ignoring her for two weeks before that?
When she had mentally compared them to a yo-yo, she was spot on, because that was how she felt. One day he was there, the next he was gone. Back and forth and back and forth. He was talking to her, then he wasn’t. She was pushing him away, then she wasn’t.
What the hell kind of bullshit ride were they on, and when could they get off? Was it even possible to get off? Was there any hope of an after for them, or were they doomed to spend eternity going back and forth, together then apart...
Four days without him, and it was enough to drive her crazy. At least the chilling cold wasn’t completely damning, like last time. Warm showers, warm tea, warm food, they could all soothe her soul. Not in the same way that he could, and did, but it was enough that, while insanity still sounded possible, it wasn’t ever looming.
Where before, things had felt rushed and then dragged, like she was floating and then flying, now everything was at a standstill. Time seemed to stop moving forward, not taking her any closer to being with him again. When would her agony end? How much longer until she had the answers she so desperately needed? When would she know his idea? When would she know if it worked?
The floating and waiting, the stagnant feeling in her soul, was what had her standing at her kitchen counter, completely lost on Monday morning. She should do something, eat something, drink something, just something, but instead she was staring out her window, wishing she could see him again, wrap herself up in him, once and for all.
Which was why her phone ringing was such a jolting experience.
No one ever called—it was always texts with the boys, and with Sam. Well, yeah, people called down in the shop, but this was her phone, and the only person who ever called was—
“Mom?” she asked as she picked up the phone. Had to be her mom, because who else would it be?
“Hey sweet girl. You were trying to reach me. We were out among the hills, gathering the last of the buds frozen from the first frost. You know how it is, preparing for winter. I was so distracted, I completely forgot to even touch in. No one else calls me these days, so...”
“Right. Winter.”
Violet didn’t know what else to say. Yeah, she had been trying to reach her mom, but now that Henrik had an idea... Well, it wasn’t like Mabel had been any help before then. Why would she suddenly be help now?
“How are you, Violet?”