My ballerina shoes coasted over the thick grass whereas ladies in heels struggled, their pretty shoes sinking into the mud.
Vaughn puts the picnic basket along with a picnic blanket in the backseat. I sit in the front with Jester on my lap.I’m dressed sensibly today. Well, as sensible as I can. I didn’t bring any sneakers with me, not that I have any, so I’m wearing my flip-flops, knowing that we’ll be walking a bit. And I’m wearing jean shorts and a tank, as it’s really warm today. I’ve put on sunscreen as well, as I don’t want to burn. Vaughn is wearing khaki shorts, a tank, and sneakers. He looks hot, like usual. He’s also wearing his ball cap, and he has sunglasses on.
I tug his cap off and put it on my head. You worried about people recognizing you when we’re out? I ask him, referring to the cap. I know he wears it as a disguise of sorts.We shouldn’t run into anyone. It’s a big place, and I’m taking you to one of the quieter areas, but you never know. He shrugs, putting the car in drive.I can’t imagine how it is for him, always having to worry about being recognized.
We stop at Vaughn’s parents’ house. I get out, carrying Jester in my arms.He can walk, you know, Vaughn teases as we head over to the house.
I know, but he’s so cute, like a little baby. I snuggle Jester and get a lick on my face in return.
I wish I could have a dog. But it’s not feasible, as I travel a lot for work, and even though Nick is always home, it’d be stuck inside while he was at work all day. That, and we live in a small apartment, which isn’t really practical for a dog.He sighed. It’s your initials that I bear. Your mark. Your brand. I may be born a Hawk, but I’ve been captured by a Weaver.
Jethro leaned closer, pressing his mouth against my damp ear. You sewed a cage. You somehow managed to fabricate a web that I only seem to fall deeper into. And this mark is proof of that.My chest rose and fell. Was this a proclamation of his feelings for me? It was too strange, too forward for Jethro.
Slowly, I wrapped my fingers around his raised one, running my thumb over the tattoo. Proof of what?Jethro closed his eyes briefly before murmuring, Proof that no matter what happened on the moor, and no matter the grief you feel at my family’s treatment of you, we are in this together.