Page 103 of Mountain Pine
I cover my mouth to hide my smile. This is going to be good. The podcast we listened to today was such a doozy.
Grace dives into story-telling mode. “This Finger Man cut off the fingers of all his victims and built sculptures from their phalanges.”
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Holy hell, Grace. Why do you listen to this fucked up shit?”
“I love it.” She’s not even done yet. “And apparently his sculptures were really impressive. He used coral glue to keep them together.”
Conner cocks his eyebrow. “Coral glue?”
“Like for corals under the sea,” I say, adding to the mix. “He had thirty-six sculptures in his house. All made of finger bones.”
Con looks appalled. “What did he do with the rest of the person?”
Grace shrugs. “Dumped them in a lake by his house.”
Dean leans in. “You’re telling me he killed people for their fingers?”
“Babe. It’s not like he could let them go after he chopped their fingers off. They’d call the cops.”
“Andthat would be the end of his art making,” I explain, then Grace and I clank our beers together.
Dean looks over at Conner. “They’re terrifying, aren’t they?”
“Who?” Grace pouts. “Us or the serial killers?”
“You.”
“Aww.” She leans into Dean and bats her lashes. “You love it.”
Conner grins and tips back his beer.
After dinner, we play cards for a while then Dean and Grace go home. Conner and I are still sitting on the back patio, staring up at the stars.
Serenity engulfs me. “They’re really pretty tonight, aren’t they?”
“Beautiful.”
Déjà vu hits me and I turn to look at Conner. He’s not staring at the stars. He’s looking right at me. We’ve said those same two things a dozen times over the years, and never once have I looked at him to see if he was looking at the sky like I was.
My gaze sails to the greenhouse he designed for me.
Then to the amethyst infinity ring on my finger.
“Oh Conner.” Tears fall and I don’t even try to hold them back. “It was all right in front of me and I didn’t see it.”
“Shh.” He settles on his knees, between my legs, and kisses my hands. “It was there for when you were ready to see it.”
“But what if I hadn’t? What if I missed it and you fell in love with someone else and we never got to be?”
“That wouldn’t have happened, Taylor.”
“How do you know?” The flurry of rage andjealousy and sadness that swarm in me because I could have lost him to another woman is choking me. “How do you know some other woman wouldn’t have come into your life and been the one?”
“Because that’s impossible.”
“Says the boy who’s had how many girlfriends?”
“And none of them ever had a chance of being the one for me. I couldn’t fully give my heart to anyone. I always held back just in case you wanted it.” He swipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “It isn’t in me to love anyone but you, Taylor.”
