Page 11 of One Small Spark (Love in Sunshine #4)

EIGHT

SHEPHERD

I don’t love going to The Stumpjumper with Leo on my best nights.

The bar is noisy, crowded, and smells like stale beer and old fries.

But tonight? When my mind is full of the kiss I shared with Wren?

My body still singing from the feel of her?

When her taste is still on my lips? I should have skipped social hour.

I’ll be lucky if it’s only an hour.

“The interior designer brought in six pieces of white fabric for us to choose from for the tablecloths. I thought they were all exactly the same, but Charlie knew the right one to pick.”

Leo’s been monologuing about the work he’s doing at the lodge with my sister for a while now. It’s part of our dynamic—he talks, I listen. Tonight, I’m barely doing my share.

Mentally, I’m back in the alley with Wren in my arms. Wondering when we’ll have a moment like that again. If we will.

That “if” kills me.

He takes a drink of his beer. “The changes she’s made at the lodge are unbelievable. She’s so impressive. She could make this her whole career. Just travel around the country rehabbing resorts and making them upscale.”

“Mmm.” I can’t imagine my sister with this much ambition for anyone else’s property. She’s dedicated to ours because she wants to live up to our grandparents’ legacy. More than is healthy, in my opinion, but I can’t deny her vision for the place has made it a success.

The megawatt grin on his face turns up a notch. “It should be a TV show. ‘Changes with Charlie.’”

“Sounds like an After School Special about puberty.”

He grimaces. “We can workshop it.”

I can’t tell how serious Leo is. He has connections in the entertainment industry—pitching a reality show for my sister is extreme but not out of the realm of possibility for him.

He fiddles with the coaster beneath his beer glass. “On second thought, that might be a bad idea. She’s overworked as it is.”

“True.” Charlie’s been heading one project after another out there for the last few years. She’s overseen renovating the main lodge, building new guest cabins, and expanding their activity offerings. If she thought a TV show would help the lodge, she’d do it even if it ran her into the ground.

Leo looks me over. “You’re kind of off tonight.”

“More than my usual?” I am, I’m just trying to hold up my side of the conversation.

“You’re distracted.” A sneaky smile curls his mouth. “I’d almost guess you’re thinking about a woman.”

Guilty, but I’m not in the mood to confess anything. Leo’s the one who rhapsodizes about the latest woman he’s into, not me. Divulging information about my private life makes me antsy even without the precarious dynamic between me and Wren in the mix .

“Worry about yourself. Which of the three women who dropped their numbers in your lap tonight are you going to call?”

It’s part of the package of being friends with someone famous, but all the attention makes my skin crawl.

People stare like he’s a chimp in a zoo and they’re waiting for him to do a trick.

They pretend to take selfies, but they’re actually sneaking photos of him.

The boldest ones come over to meet him. The shameless ones leave their numbers on napkins alongside lipstick kisses.

The smile drops off his face. “I’m not going to call any of those women.”

“That’s right. I heard you’re dating that fitness influencer who’s staying at the lodge.” He’s not. Leo is my opposite in this, too. He’s incapable of keeping things to himself. If he was dating her, I would already have heard way too many details.

He groans. “How did you find out about that?”

“Palmer. After singletrack, gossip is his favorite subject.” He asked me to confirm or deny the rumors, but I told him in no uncertain terms he won’t get information about Leo out of me. Nothing Leo doesn’t share himself, anyway.

“There was a blind item about it. ‘Fitness influencer and former NFL center getting cozy at Oregon resort.’” He drags his palm down his face before resting his chin in his hand. “Charlie heard about it.”

“She’s probably happy for the free publicity for the lodge.”

He shakes his head, his usual cheer turned morose. “It’s one more reason she doesn’t take me seriously. I took your advice and straight up asked her to be my date to the gala, but she said no.”

I stare at him, his words jangling around in my skull. “I didn’t tell you to ask Charlie on a date. ”

He stares back. “Yes, you did. Those were your exact words. ‘Ask Charlie.’”

“No. I meant you should ask her if you could have a date, not to be your date. Wait. You’re…” I look around the bar as if I’ll find answers at someone else’s table. “You’re actually interested in my sister?”

Leo’s a good guy, or we wouldn’t be as close as we are. I trust him implicitly and know in my gut he would never hurt anyone in our family. I still have a small but powerful urge to fight him.

“We’ve always teased and joked around. We were friends. But ever since she kissed me a year ago?—”

“She kissed you?” That doesn’t sound like Charlie at all. She’s sensible and smart. Impulsiveness isn’t her style.

Which means it wouldn’t have been a spur-of-the-moment thing.

I’m going to need another beer for this.

At least he looks sheepish. “I’m doing this all wrong. Charlie is awesome. She’s talented and capable and makes my manager look like a chump. She’s beautiful and funny and…” He splays his hands. “I care about her. A lot.”

I exhale hard. I’ve never had to deal with the hypothetical of a friend being into my sister before. Especially not my closest friend. The football hero. Who’s also working with her. And living next door to her—in the house I set him up with.

No part of that’s reassuring me.

He flashes a small smile. “If it makes you feel any better, she thinks I’m an idiot.”

“That helps.”

“But maybe you could?—”

“Nope. Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no. I’m not going to be your wingman or give you advice or be your Cyrano de Bergerac for my sister’s hand.” First, I would be lousy at giving anyone dating advice. Second, I can’t think of anything that would make me more uncomfortable.

“But you’d be such a good Cyrano.”

“I regret even knowing this much about it.” I finish off the last of my beer. “What happened to that Dalesandro charm all the TV hosts love to go on about?”

“My Dalesandro charm only annoys her.”

Sounds like Charlie.

If that’s the case though, why did she kiss him a year ago? I rake a hand through my hair. It’s none of my business, and I don’t want to know.

A few feet away, four middle-aged women have their phones out. They’re fluffing their hair like they’re taking selfies, but their phones are pointed at Leo. Sneaky, they are not.

“You’ve got some adoring fans at eight o’clock,” I tell him.

He sags against his chair. “Can’t I just lie low for the evening?”

“You and ‘lying low’ don’t go together.” He’s an attention hound through-and-through. Avoiding the spotlight isn’t his style, even if he claims it’s why he came back to Sunshine.

Or…did he come back for Charlie? This is bad. I was better off not knowing about his interest. Crush. Whatever you call it, I need a mental Delete button.

He huffs laughter. “You’re probably right. Hey, Grant and Griffin are over there. Let’s go say hello.”

Proving my point about his inability to lay low.

I look over my shoulder and spot Grant Irwin with Griffin McBride at a big table in the corner, along with their girlfriends and another man.

I don’t bother asking where Leo met Grant, who’s opening a branch of his family’s outdoor stores downtown.

Best to just assume if they’re in the vicinity, Leo’s going to meet them.

“Lead the way. ”

He grabs his beer, and we walk over to their table. They get up and greet him like he’s late to the party instead of a gate crasher. Griffin invites us to join them, and we take a couple of empty seats.

My internal clock counting down to an acceptable time to leave just reset.

The third man at the table is introduced as one of Grant’s brothers, but I lose track of the conversation.

My attention snags on Wren standing at the crowded bar across the room.

Our kiss flashes through my memory like a lightning strike.

I’ve relived that kiss a thousand times in the hours since it happened, turned over every moment again and again.

Her taste, the feel of her, the utter perfection of us together at last.

Followed by confusion when she’d gone back inside, mad at me all over again. I should have known one unbelievable kiss wouldn’t undo years of biting back-and-forth. A guy can dream, though.

I focus on Hope, who’s seated next to me with Griffin’s arm slung across her shoulders. “Is Wren with you?”

She cranes her neck to spot her friend at the bar. “Yeah. She didn’t want the beer we’re drinking, so she left to order a cider.”

Wren probably won’t be happy when she comes back to her table and finds me here waiting. I could make an excuse to leave. Find another time to talk to her when we can have more privacy than sitting at an eight-top surrounded by half-drunk people.

Across the room, a man sidles up to her. I don’t recognize him, but he’s standing way too close to her for my comfort. Apparently for hers, too. She takes a step to the side, but he drifts nearer again, chatting her up.

Déjà vu hits me like a slap to the face. Right when I think stars are aligning with Wren, someone else steps in. Not this time.

“I think I’ll get a cider, too.” I stand and stalk toward the bar .

I shouldn’t get involved. She’s a grown woman who can handle herself. Stepping in will probably give her one more reason to be ticked with me.

The guy crowds her, practically caging her against the bar.

I shouldn’t get involved, but I’m going to, anyway.