Under The Oak Tree Free Novels & Stories

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN The oak tree was huge and from where Lucas stood, its shape reminded him of a piece of broccoli. The great trunk was thick and gnarled, the leaves spreading like a vast canopy of deep jade. This magnificent symbol of nature sat alone in a green field, an azure, cloudless sky as a backdrop. Lucas ambled up the hill. There was no such thing as urgency in a place such as this. His heart maintained the sense of peace he had carried since . . .

The accumulation of fifteen years of being together had made the arrangement more fully itself, not less. They stood under the oak. The June light came through the full canopy in the specific quality of the filtered summer light — green and warm and particular. The oak's trunk was wide — wider than Ernest could reach around, wider than two people could reach around together. The bark was rough, the texture of the old oak, the specific pattern of ridges and crevices that had formed over decades. The roots spread out from the base, some of them visible above the ground, the evidence of the tree's underground life.

The bracket was redirected — she could see that even in the dark, even in the storm, the downspout angled away from the foundation the way he had described — so he had finished, he had done what he came to do, which meant he should have been inside already, which meant — Where is he. She turned. And then she heard it. Not over the storm. Under it. The kind of sound that bypassed the ears and went straight to the spine — a deep structural crack that she felt in the soles of her feet and the base of her skull simultaneously, the sound of something enormous making an irreversible decision. She turned toward the forest edge. She saw the oak move. Eighty feet of tree and the root ball had let go

"He was stubborn. He was loud. He took up space. He did not die easily. He was not supposed to die at all." Damon stood up. "Come on." "Where are we going." "To the nursery. We are buying an oak tree." --- The nursery was crowded. Even on a Tuesday. Even in the fall. People buying mums and pumpkins and bags of soil. Damon walked to the back. Found the trees. "Oak," he said to the man behind the counter. "What kind." "The kind that lasts." The man looked at him. Looked at me. Did not ask questions.

After he ate and had some coffee, he headed to Walmart to look for a small tree and some other decorations. ************************* Quinn had never thought of himself as a dragon person, but when he was on the internet, he ran across Treasured OOAKS and found a dragon that called to him. It was silver gray with green eyes and a green tail. The bark-like skin made him think of the willow tree. The tail branched out like the willow tree’s branches. Quinn had to have one for his tree, so he ordered two, one for his place and one for Willow to put in her house.

I knew he was supposed to be here. Thinking he was yet to come, I sat under the oak tree and waited for him. I kind of see why he liked this place, the cool breeze brushing against my skin was so calming, and the leaves on the oak tree rustled with the wind. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, enjoying the calm environment. I think I was too engrossed in how good I was feeling that I did not know when I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I had slept, but when I woke up, I was moving in the air, my eyes immediately flew open, scared I was being kidnapped.

The sun beat down hard, urging them toward the wide patch of shade cast by a sprawling oak tree at the edge of the grounds. “Jesus, Lila. How can you be fine staying with someone like that? He looks so terrifying, and I still haven’t gotten his cold face out of my mind. Jeez,” Tessa said, shaking her head as they both sat on the backless bench under the tree. Lila chuckled. “I told you, didn’t I?” she said, lifting her cup of iced coffee and taking a sip.

"Natalya, Azira, and Adrianna are going to wonder where they fuck I've been." Oak watches me, looking unbelievably calm as I get dressed. "You're adorable when you panic." He waves his hand dismissively. "Tell them you're sick. Text them now." Oak sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'll make us pancakes, and then you can ride my cock like a good girl." He shrugs. "After all, I have a free period this morning." My stomach flutters at the mere mention of having sex with him again. This can't carry on. In the end, someone will catch us out. "Well, I don't have a free period."