Some like it fox, p.6
Some Like It Fox, page 6
“Yep.”
“So you think the letter writer lives there?”
He shrugs. “Or they used to. It’s a small town, and these letters were written almost ten years ago. I’ve tried searching around online for any Ryans or Mias living in Dull, but I don’t have last names. I don’t know, do you think it would be weird to reach out to people who live in the town to see if anyone knew Dad or these people in the letters? I don’t really know where to begin, or what to say even if I found someone who knew something. What do I even ask?”
I purse my lips in thought. “You could hire a private investigator.”
“To do what?”
He doesn’t know I’ve gone down this route myself, and I’m not about to tell him. “They can find things not available on Google or social media. Skip tracing, image searches, databases the public can’t readily access, property records, marriage records, address records, all of it.”
His head tilts. “How do you know all that?”
“I banged a PI once at Lollapalooza.”
He groans and covers his face. “Taylor.”
“What?” Okay, so it’s not entirely true, but I did meet Georgia at Lollapalooza. She agreed to give me a discount for her services after I let her sleep in my van during stormy weather when her tent sprang a leak.
“I did not need to hear that.”
I giggle and smack him on the knee. “So. Have you told Finley?”
His hands drop to his lap. “No. She’s been busy with the camp. You’re the only one I’ve told.”
Probably because the rest of our siblings are all wrapped up in their work and their relationships. Over the past year, they’ve been coupling up at record speed. It’s like Love Island without the island and much grosser because they’re my sisters.
He taps my knee. “How long are you staying?”
“Until I can get the bus fixed.”
He frowns.
“Don’t give me that hangdog face. It will be at least a few weeks, probably longer. I’m going to see Veronica tomorrow about work. I need to save up some money, so you won’t be getting rid of me anytime soon.”
“Good.” His eyes soften. “I’ve missed you, Tay.”
I slide toward him on the couch so our shoulders press together. “I’ve missed you too.”
We sit there for a few seconds, then he elbows me away. “No more sappy shit. Come on. Finley is dying to see you. Let’s go down to the camp. You can help with the kids’ science stuff. You’ll love it.” He jumps off the couch.
I follow him through the kitchen and out the side door. “How am I going to help with teaching kids anything?”
He glances at me over his shoulder. “C’mon, you’ve gleaned many skills over the years. You can show them how to dress like a wookiee, make flower crowns, and pee in the woods.”
I laugh and shove him in the back. “Dick.”
“You love it.”
I really do.
We head down in one of the camp golf carts. The night air is bracing against my cheeks as Jake rounds a curve between the cabins, taking us to the center of the property where the firepits and mess hall are located.
I get a better view of the camp up close, more than just the white fairy lights. Stout wood cabins are arranged in scattered intervals underneath the looming pines, along with the cobblestone street rumbling underneath us, all of it transforming the night into a glowing, hobbit-like wonderland.
A swell of emotion clogs my throat and I swallow it down. I’m so proud of Finley and Jake, of everything they’ve accomplished, and how hard they worked to turn our family property into this magical fairyland. But underneath the pride is regret.
I shouldn’t have stayed away so much. This last stint was the longest, six months. I’ve missed out.
Jake parks outside the firepit. Finley and Archer are in the middle of a swarm of kids, while a smattering of counselors valiantly attempt to herd the children into the mess hall.
The adults stand out, their heads above the kids, all wearing the same matching blue zip-up hoodies, the logo for Camp Aria emblazoned across the front.
Involuntarily, my eyes search the group, but there’s no sign of Atticus.
“Taylor!” Finley extricates herself from the center of the small group, making her way through the gaggle of elementary-aged kids.
She flings her arms around me, encompassing me in the scents of home, like dirt and pine and a hint of soap.
She steps back and Archer is the next to wrap me in a giant bear hug. “Hey, Taylor. We’re glad you’re here.”
“I’m happy to be home. Everything looks so different.” I gesture behind me. “Finley, the house looks amazing. All of it does.”
She beams. “Thank you. They’re all finishing up s’mores and then heading into the mess hall to make lava lamps. Want to sit with me out here for a bit and catch up?” Her eyes are hopeful.
“Absolutely.”
A few noisy minutes later, the campers have been herded away by counselors, Archer bringing up the rear of the group and squeezing Finley’s hand before he leaves.
Jake claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to check out the stargazing. They’re up on the hill if you want to stop by later.” He tilts his head toward the hill that juts up between the camp and the pond on the other side of the property.
“Stargazing?” I sit on one of the benches, stretching my fingers out toward the fire.
Finley takes the spot next to me. “Atticus and Eve are doing star maps with some of the older kids. Tonight was the perfect night since it’s a new moon and the skies are clear.”
“Ah.” Eve. The woman at Luke’s show. She stuck to Atticus like glitter sticks to everything and looked like a kicked puppy when Atticus and I danced together.
He said there was nothing there, but it’s been months. I wonder if they’re dating now. Maybe they’ve hooked up. My stomach squirms at the thought.
Ridiculous. I’m the one who left. I always leave. I can’t be counted on to be anyone’s . . . anything.
If I’m being real, deep down inside, he scares me a little. I’m not a safe kind of person. I’m wild, free, unfettered. Safe sounds great to most people. Security. Shelter. A soft place to land. For me, standing still is terrifying.
Tossing thoughts of Atticus to the side, I focus on catching up with my sister. I tell Finley about the past few months, and she gives me the lowdown on everything I’ve missed including updates on my siblings and their significant others.
“Oliver really hung up on you?”
“To be fair, I called him a fuckwad with the emotional maturity of a jellyfish.”
I throw back my head and laugh. “And what did Piper have to say to that?”
“That because of her hard work, his emotional maturity is at least hamster level.”
“She does love the fool.”
She sighs. “And he loves her too, in addition to making her deliriously happy so I can’t totally bag on him, as fun as it is.”
Oliver and Piper are polar opposites. He’s a cranky, brooding billionaire and she’s an artistic genius who creates brilliant metalwork sculptures and a sweetheart to boot.
“I’m trying to get them to come to Whitby to visit while you’re here. They are always so busy.”
“That would be great. I would love to see both of them.”
“It’s been, what, four months?”
“Yeah about that. Since Luke’s show in the city.”
Archer sticks his head out of the door to the mess hall, the sounds of children laughing and talking leaking out into the night. “Babe, where’s the Alka-Seltzer tablets?”
“They’re in the cupboard above the art supplies.”
He leans a little farther out the door. “Are you sure? I looked there.”
“Did you do a man-look?”
He groans. “I’ll check again.” The door shuts, wiping out the noise of the kids.
“Man-look?” I ask.
“Seriously. The man can spot a hawk flying in the sky three miles into the distance but ask him to grab the ketchup out of the door of the fridge and he’s suddenly blind.”
I chuckle.
She shifts toward me. “Uh, speaking of Luke, Mindy might be in the area next week and—”
“No.” I lift my hand.
She reaches out and taps my fingers. “You didn’t even let me finish.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I know what you’re going to say, and if Mindy is coming home to visit, let me know when and I can make myself scarce.”
“But Taylor—”
I stand. “I’m going to go find Jake.”
“Really?”
“I’m sorry, Finley. It’s been a long day, and I can’t right now. Go help Archer find the Alka-Seltzer. I’m not mad at you, I just . . . I’m not ready.”
Spinning away, I head in the direction Jake disappeared.
I don’t want to think about Mindy.
Turning my face to the sky, I take a deep breath and exhale to let out all the negative energy that Mindy’s name incites. The stars are out, stretched overhead in a tapestry of twinkling lights.
Voices and laughter echo on the breeze. Following the sound, I take the path leading away from the camp, meandering up the incline.
Where the hill crests, a couple of groups are clustered around two telescopes set about twenty feet apart.
Atticus sticks out like a skyscraper in the center of a field of stumps since he’s two heads taller and twice as broad as anyone else up there, including Jake.
He’s bent over one of the scopes while a couple of smaller forms crowd around him. He steps back to let one of the kids look into the eyepiece.
“Taylor.” Jake waves at me, drawing my attention.
Jake is standing by the other telescope with a group of three teens, more sitting on a felled log behind him.
I head in his direction, sneaking one more glance over at Atticus.
He’s a few feet away from the crowd of kids at the telescope, talking to one of the other teachers.
Eve.
Atticus says something and she laughs, throwing her head back in mirth and reaching out to put a hand on his arm.
My stomach lurches and I force my attention back to Jake, my stride more purposeful.
He’s not mine to yearn for, and yet I’m burning for him anyway.
Chapter Eight
Atticus
My stomach dips, awareness wringing my every nerve ending.
Taylor glances at me from twenty feet away, no more than a shadow in the darkness, and my entire body bursts into flames.
Eve follows the direction of my gaze and then chuckles and pats me on the arm. “I’m going to check on Ryder and Nathan.”
I nod, forcing my gaze away from where Taylor is peering into a telescope.
Next to her, Jake gestures broadly, talking to some teen campers sitting on a log who are documenting their findings on slim tablets, the glow illuminating their faces.
I make my way over to their telescope, unable to resist the pull of her voice on the breeze.
Up close, her features come into sharper focus. My eyes track over some of the details that have stuck with me since I picked her up at Pearl’s. There are violet smudges under her eyes, and her cheeks are more pronounced than they were four months ago. Has she lost weight? Is she not sleeping well? Concern nibbles at me.
“What is money called in space?” Jake asks the group.
Taylor groans and covers her face with a hand. “I cringe to ask.”
One of the kids pipes up. “What’s money called in space?”
Jake grins. “Star bucks.”
Two of the girls sitting on the log crack up.
Jake points at them. “See? It’s funny.”
Taylor shakes her head.
“You think you can do better?”
Taylor props one hand on her hip, eyeballing Jake. “Why didn’t the dog star laugh at the joke?”
“Why?” I ask.
Taylor smiles at me. “It was too Sirius.”
I chuckle, and she catches a couple of laughs from the kids.
Jake frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“Sirius,” she repeats. “You know, S-I-R-I-U-S, also known as the dog star.”
“Dog star?” He scoffs. “Like that’s a real thing.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be teaching them about the names of stars and constellations and whatnot? Wouldn’t it help to actually know something?”
“Don’t get all mean because your joke wasn’t funny.”
She scratches her nose. Was that her middle finger? “At least it was actually science related.”
“Maybe that’s what made it suck.”
She smacks him on the arm.
I clear my throat before speaking. “What do you say if you want to start a fight in space?”
Jake claps his hands once. “Here comes Ace with a zinger. Sorry, but you can’t win here. Taylor and I have been telling each other bad jokes since we were in diapers.”
I lift my brow at him. “Comet me, bro.”
Taylor laughs, the sound free and unfettered, and even in the dim light, the planes of her face shadowed, it hits me like an arrow in the gut.
“Hilarious, Ace. Really, you should have been a comedian instead of a plant nerd.”
Taylor releases an exaggerated sigh and spins toward the girls. “Will you show me what you’re working on?” She perches on the log next to Trinity.
“Let’s look for the cat star.” Jake leans over the telescope.
“There is no such thing as a cat star,” Taylor calls out.
He twists around to look at her. “You said there’s a dog star.”
“There is.”
“Where?”
She groans, stalking over to the telescope and nudging him out of the way.
He steps to the side. “If there’s a dog star, there should be a cat star. Am I right?” he asks the kids, but then his head whips back in Taylor’s direction. “Dude, what was that? Was that your stomach or did the ground just vibrate underneath us?”
She leans away from the telescope. “Yeah, it was me. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“Why didn’t you say something when we were at the house?”
She shrugs. “I forgot.”
His face contorts in mock horror. “How could you forget to eat?”
She sighs. “It’s been a long day.”
I take a few steps closer to them. “I can drive you back to the house.”
“Perfect.” Jake jerks a thump toward the campers. “Eve and I can get them back to camp before lights-out.”
Taylor hesitates, but then her stomach groans again, so loudly the nearby campers laugh. “Fine,” she says.
When we’re heading down the hill toward the cart, she nudges me with her elbow. “So I guess my stomach being obnoxious and you feeding me when my bus breaks down is like our thing.”
I chuckle. “I guess it is.” We reach the cart and I lift up the back seat to grab one of the camp sweaters stored there and then hand it to her.
“Thanks.” She takes it, our fingers brushing, sparks flaring up my arm from the contact.
The chilled night air brushing between us doesn’t do anything to mute the heat.
“Thanks for driving me . . . again. You could have made Jake do it.”
I shrug. “He likes to stay up late with the older kids. Keeps him distracted.”
Her gaze hits the side of my face, the weight of it almost a physical caress. “Did he tell you that?”
“He did.” I glance over at her and our eyes lock for a penetrating second.
I quickly aim my gaze at the road ahead.
I’ve grown closer to Taylor’s family over the past few months, especially Jake. Life dealt him some shit at a young age, and under the bravado, he’s just doing his best to get by. The camp, the kids, and all the activities are the perfect distraction from his relentless demons. Nights are the worst for Jake. It’s when his thoughts are the loudest.
“You’ve gotten close with my family.”
I peek over at her again, gauging her reaction since her words had no inflection. Her words mirror my thoughts so closely. “Does that bother you?”
“No,” she answers quickly. “Not at all. Did you tell them about,” her hand waves in the air, a motion I catch out of the corner of my eye, “us?”
Ah. “No. I suppose this means you haven’t told them anything either?”
She chuckles. “No.”
“Right.”
It was one night of passion. We’re both adults. It’s no big deal, right?
I bring the cart to a stop in front of the main house, an echo of when I dropped her off earlier.
“Thanks.” She shifts, turning to face me, her face shadowed by the glow of the porch light behind her. “So.” She bites her lip. “Do you want to come inside? We could, ah, eat together, or something?”
“Or something?”
She gives me a slow smile in response.
An intense jolt of lust hardens my length immediately, pressing against the fly of my pants like the organ has a direct connection to her words.
Clearly, the answer my body wants to give is hell yes.
But something holds me back, and I’m not sure I can articulate it. She’s leaving. I’m staying. Will this make things weird since I work for her family? The same family that will be arriving back at the house within the hour. Maybe she’s not suggesting what I think she’s suggesting.
“Are we really talking about food?”
She leans toward me. “Food. Sex. Yes. A fling might be fun, while I’m here. Don’t you think?”
I swallow. “What about Jake? He’ll be home soon.”
She blinks. “Maybe later tonight, then? What cabin are you staying in? I can come to you.”
My hands tighten around the steering wheel, wishing for the first time I was living on site. “I’m staying at home. I’ve been housesitting.”
“Your family is gone?”
“Paul and Moira are home now, but they’re leaving again in a couple of days.”
Her head tilts. “Again?”
“They’re spending their retirement traveling across the country in their RV but they come home now and then.”
