Page 39 of Maple Mountain
I rose from the chair.“Okay, so I’m gonna head out for a bit.”
“Head out?We just got home.”
“Poet and I are grabbing dinner,” I explained, shoving my phone back into my bag.
“We didn’t discuss your nights off,” Archer said.“We should probably do that.”
I waited.
He stared at me.
I rolled my eyes.“Oh my God.You can absolutely hang out with your own child for a few hours unsupervised.”
“You’re the buffer,” he explained.“Without you, I don’t know what to talk to her about.”
“You did fine when you were letting her rasp a hoof,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, because there was a common goal.”
“Archie,” I said.
“Yeah, Wynelope?”
“Grow up.”
“Ouch,” he said, his tone light.“That hurt.”
“Just ...talk to her like you talk to your brother.”
“You want me to haze her?”
The door to the basement opened and a moment later, Lenni appeared in the living room.
“I’m going out with Poet for a few hours,” I said to her.
She shot a look at Archer and then back to me.“Do you have to?”
“Yep.You guys will be fine.I swear.It’s just for a few hours.Don’t forget to feed Mildred.”
With a wave, I headed for the front door.I grabbed my jacket off the coat hook and left.
I trekked to the bookstore, but instead of entering through the front, I decided to go around to the back.Brooks had put in a security system and an intercom.It felt like I was back in New York, buzzing Poet’s apartment to be let in.
The lock clicked and I opened the door and headed up the backstairs toward the landing.Her apartment door was already cracked so I rapped on it a few times and then popped in.
Lottie came to greet me, her little pink tail swishing back and forth.
Poet had completely transformed the tiny apartment over the bookstore.There was a small two-seat table that looked like it belonged on a New York sidewalk café, and she’d hung plants from hooks in the ceiling that Brooks had installed for her.The space was somewhere between a studio and one bedroom apartment.It was feminine and inviting.If Brooks hadn’t left a pair of his giant boots by the door, no one would know a man lived there.
“Hey,” she greeted from the bed as she pulled on a shoe.“I’m almost ready to go.”
“No rush,” I assured her.
The apartment door opened, and Brooks strode in, carrying a brown Dusty’s bag.“They were out of Elk Tracks, so I got you three other flavors of ice cream instead.”
“My hero.”Poet beamed at him.
If my best friend hadn’t been so damn happy and in love, their display of affection would’ve made me nauseous.
