Page 19 of One Small Spark (Love in Sunshine #4)

FOURTEEN

WREN

It was definitely a mistake to give those women my phone number. As if the group chat wasn’t bad enough, they’ve started messaging me directly, too.

Fran: What kind of sweet treats do you think Shepherd will bring?

Fran: He’s so talented in the kitchen, isn’t he?

Wren: I really don’t know

Fran: Maybe you should message him and find out

Fran: So we don’t have duplicates

Wren: I’ll be okay if people bring the same kind of treat

Fran: You could always go in together on a dessert. We wouldn’t mind

Fran: Maybe something with chocolate kisses, hmm?

Not half an hour later, my phone’s shimmying in my pocket again.

Ada: My son’s house is on a gravel road

Ada: Will your car be able to handle that okay?

Ada: You can always carpool with someone who has a sturdier vehicle if you need to

Wren: My car won’t fall apart on a gravel road

Ada: We don’t have to make that common knowledge

Ada: I can ask around for a ride for you

Wren: I promise you, I can drive it just fine

“These ladies are a menace.” I hit Send and stuff my phone back in my pocket.

“Did you find people who match your energy?” Tess walks into the front of the bakery with a tray of pies to refill the refrigerated case. She’s gradually shifting her hours to mid-days to accommodate her custom cake orders, but she still works out here with the pie peons part-time.

“Har har. I’m not this bad.”

She shoots me an incredulous look. Well-deserved, too, but I don’t have to acknowledge it. Or that I have a shirt with Certified Menace written in glitter tucked away in my closet.

“It’s sweet that they keep in touch between meetings.”

“Oh, Tess, you innocent flower. ‘Sweet’ is not the word for it. They’re casually leaving spoilers in the chat every other day, and I haven’t even found a copy of the book yet.

Now, they’re planning a movie night for this weekend and practically begging me to bring more pies.

Next, they’ll want to have a spa day together. ”

I wouldn’t hate that plan, actually. A spa day sounds kind of nice.

“A movie night, huh?” The tiniest smile curls along Tess’s mouth. “Is everyone included in that invitation?”

I help her slide pies into the case. “Don’t give me that look. Yes, everyone’s invited. Yes, we’re all going. It’s no big deal.”

We’re just going to watch a romantic movie that may or may not include a hand flex. There’s nothing to get worked up about. As I keep telling my frantic little heart every time it flutters around in my chest.

After we restock the case for the afternoon, Tess leans a hip against the counter, watching me like a detective looking for clues. “Are you going to keep pretending that what Charlie told us the other night doesn’t mean anything?”

“I never said that.” Sure, I left at the same time Charlie did to avoid this very conversation, but I didn’t say it didn’t mean something. I’ve been careful not to say anything to Tess about it at all.

I haven’t confided what I’ve done with Callahan to my sister.

Not on any level. She doesn’t know about that brain-melting kiss in the alley, or my misguided revenge date, or the way I sought him out at his cabin.

I didn’t tell her about his dinner invitation or that I stayed and manhandled his arms as I committed his tattoos to memory.

I didn’t tell her how he’s honored the people he loves in beautiful scenes up and down his arms, or how that glimpse into his heart made mine go as soft as a marshmallow over high heat.

I for sure didn’t tell her about the little bird he’s got tucked away among the trees.

I’m trying to block that one from my mind.

It won’t budge, though. It’s right there in my head every time I close my eyes .

It can’t be what it looked like. There was probably a special on fat little birds at the tattoo studio that day. It doesn’t mean anything. He just happened to get a random bird on the second-most painful spot on his arm. Nothing to see here.

“Shepherd was protecting you, Wren.” She drops her voice as if this is a Very Important Observation. “He didn’t betray you.”

“I connected those dots, too.” And promptly had a nervous breakdown about it, thank you.

She goes on staring at me, but I don’t meet her eye. Getting other people to spill their guts is where I shine. But blabbing about my big emotions? I’d rather not.

Her sigh lets me know what a massive disappointment I am. “Fine. I’ve got cakes to make this afternoon. If you decide you want to talk, you know I’m always here for you.”

Guilt lurches through my stomach like Frankenstein’s monster, huge and unwieldy. “I know.”

She’s never been the problem.

Tess takes the empty tray into the back where she’s carved out a dedicated space for making and assembling her cakes. In a few more minutes, she’ll be lost in decorating and immune to anything that goes on out here.

I trust my sister with anything I could tell her.

I just don’t trust myself. If I start talking about my feelings and going soft, that’s when everything crumbles beneath my feet.

Emotions are like the ocean: dangers lurk in the deep.

Nameless creatures that will pull you under, squeeze you tight, and suck your face right off.

Safest to cruise along at sea level. What happens in the deep is none of my business.

Customers wander in and out of the shop, and I wish I could say it’s a nice distraction from Callahan, but it’d be a big fat lie.

I can’t stop thinking about what I’ve learned really happened between him and Richard Allred.

The way he held my hand during his impromptu dinner invitation. That mystery bird on his arm.

His freaking rolling ladder.

As if I didn’t have enough torment in my life, in walks Rose Rainey.

She’s got long, dark hair that falls in perfect, beachy curls.

She’s wearing a bohemian, flowing dress like she’s on her way to wander wildflower fields.

If Sunshine did superlatives for residents, she’d get voted in as the “Nicest Person in Town” every year.

She also happens to be Callahan’s ex-girlfriend.

No. Big. Deal.

“Hi, Wren.” Rose’s ever-present smile is so bright, I want to shield my eyes.

I’m in customer service—I’m deeply familiar with fake smiles. But Rose’s smiles never strain at the edges or look flimsy and glued on. They’re bestowed on everyone equally and without hesitation. They always make her eyes crinkle, too, like she’s the happiest she’s ever been right this minute.

I’m not even sure I’m smiling now. I subtly slide my mouth around. Nope.

“Hey, Rose.”

“It’s such a lovely day out, isn’t it? I hope the weather stays like this a little longer.” A sunbeam shines through the transom window over our door specifically to give her brown hair a honey glow.

Even the sun is against me.

I don’t know how long she and Callahan were together or how serious things were between them. She was around a lot when he first took over the space next door, but by the time his shop opened, she didn’t come by anymore. I never asked him about it because I didn’t really want to know the details.

Now, I regret not digging around and prying for more information when I had the chance. Even though I’m still not sure I really want to know the details.

“It’s surprisingly warm.” I haven’t been out in it except to take trash to the bins in the alley.

Which I did not do in the hopes I would run into Callahan. I also didn’t linger out there longer than usual, standing around like a fangirl waiting to catch a glimpse of her favorite boy band member after a show. Totally wasn’t worth Tess’s dirty looks for my lateness when I came back in, either.

“It’s my boss’s birthday today. He said he didn’t want anything, but I know he’s coming in later, so…” She gestures at the case of pies. “Might as well surprise him with a little something.”

She buys birthday gifts for her boss, too. Is this woman even real?

“Do you know what flavor he likes?”

Rose stoops to peer into the case. Did I mention she’s supermodel tall? She’s lithe and gorgeous and soft and billowy and I should definitely stop taking notes before I hurt my own feelings.

I’m not ignorant of my own looks, but I’m firmly on the cute end of the spectrum. Not an Amazonian goddess like some people.

“Ooh, he likes bananas. How about one of the banana cream pies?”

I pull out one of the pies and slice it, trying not to come up with reasons why Callahan would have broken up with the sweetest human being on the planet.

I don’t really care to think about why she would have dumped him, either.

Maybe it was a mutual dumping and nothing personal on either side. That happens, right?

No matter what, definitely not my business .

“Your bakery is so cute,” she says, looking around the shop. “I love how cheerful it is. Like a welcome from an old friend.”

“Thank you.” I get basically zero credit for the remodel we did years ago, but I try to match her energy. I’m not a menace one hundred percent of the time. “Hopefully it has a happy vibe for the pie-loving people of Sunshine.”

Matching her energy was a terrible idea. I sound like a dork.

“The Painted Daisy next door is the most adorable,” she says, craning her neck that direction.

No argument there. Hope’s shop is bright and sunny and filled with the cutest little handmade goods imaginable. Rose would fit right in on the shelves.

"I keep encouraging Reed to add more color to Perk Me Up,” she says. “Give it a little pop of something. He says it’s colorful enough as it is.”

I pause, picturing the coffee shop’s crisp white walls and shiny concrete floor. “Where’s the color?”

She leans forward, her eyes lit up. “He means the wooden tables and chairs. Brown is too much color for Reed Bridger.”

Even Callahan’s shop has more color in it than that.

I finish up with the pie, fighting the urge to ask her what happened between her and Callahan like a psychopath. Just go straight to the source to get the inside scoop. But I do have some limits to my crazy. I press my lips tightly together and slide over the pie.

“Thanks so much, Wren. Reed is going to love this.” She swipes her card. “In his own, subdued way.”

I doubt very much her boss who thinks brown is too colorful and specifically told her not to do anything for his birthday is going to love her kind gesture. But I wave her on her way with her delusions, her skirts swirling as she leaves the shop.

If this is the kind of woman Callahan is into, I would make a poor replacement.

Rose is sunshine and happiness and hugs that go on a little too long.

I’m full of snark and sarcasm and have to fight the impulse to flip him off.

Rose is cotton candy, and I’m a sour gummy worm. We’re not even in the same realm.

Callahan’s long-ago comments to his employee barge through a wall in my brain like the Kool-Aid Man.

“Wren Krause is loud, opinionated, and unavoidable. That woman is too much in every category that matters.”

It’d hurt when I first heard it. Not going to lie, it hurt for a long time after, too. I know my own faults, so the description wasn’t surprising. But for a while, I’d thought he didn’t mind my faults. Maybe even liked my nonsense. But compared to his ex? I can see why he would have said it.

I can’t even be mad at Rose. She’s too sweet for that kind of resentment to make sense. Then again, I’ve done plenty of things that don’t make sense in my life.

Like kiss Callahan. Which I really need to stop thinking about. The problem is, I don’t think I can.

“She’s obsessed with him, too.”

Why does he have to be right all the time?