Page 32 of One Small Spark (Love in Sunshine #4)

TWENTY-THREE

SHEPHERD

At some point, I’m going to dump my phone and only communicate with people via fax. Send me antiquated messages during work hours or nothing at all.

Every new message I get from Lila about the town hall presentation kicks my anxiety higher.

Lila: Let’s set aside some time to go over your slideshow ideas

Lila: Do you have your presentation to run by me yet?

Lila: No rush. Still plenty of time

Lila: And I don’t have final approval or anything

Lila: Just offering to look it over!

Lila: I’m drumming up a lot of interest for you!

Lila: You’re going to do great!

I thought I’d be nervous about having dinner with Wren tonight, but it’s Sunshine’s tourism coordinator who’s got my palms sweating .

I arrived at Magnifico early, but nobody in the book group thought to make a reservation for a Friday night. While the wait staff works to get a table for eight together, I’m on a leather seat in the waiting area, doom scrolling my text messages.

I’ve been working on the presentation in my off hours, but I’m not ready to share it with Lila yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to actually get on stage and make my impassioned plea for community support.

Shepherd: I’m getting there

Feels like a lie, but I hit Send anyway.

Wren walks through the restaurant’s doors looking like the embodiment of a warm hug. She’s wearing a long, brown, thick-knit cardigan over a graphic tee. It’s printed with The Female Gaze over an illustration of Medusa, hair-snakes going wild.

Marry me already, Krause.

Her eyes light up when she sees me, and my heart leaps. I’ve stopped by the bakery twice this week, and it hasn’t been nearly enough.

“Am I actually early?” She glances around the small waiting area, probably looking for the rest of our friends. A few other larger parties fill the space, but no meddling women from the romance book group.

“You’re right on time.” I’ve been here for a good ten minutes with no sign of them. My anxiety goes into overdrive if I’m late to anything.

She looks me over, her gaze warming as she takes in my rust-colored sweater.

Yes, I took Fran’s advice. Probably a bad idea on most counts, but tonight, something other than flannel felt like the right choice.

“I feel underdressed,” she says.

“You’re perfect.”

Her skeptical smile draws me closer, but my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I would ignore it, but Wren’s phone apparently does the same thing. She looks at hers, too.

Ada: Is anyone at the restaurant yet?

I type a quick message.

Shepherd: Wren and I are here

Ada: Oh, good. I’m having such a terrible case of allergies tonight

Ada: I can’t make it, I’m so sorry

“That doesn’t explain the others—” I start to say, but more messages pop up.

Isabel: I so wanted to have dinner with everyone tonight, but I have a headache

Barb: I also have a headache

Nora: I started making caramels and can’t leave them or they’ll burn

Rosetta: I have an emergency meeting at the library

Fran: I had pasta for lunch. I can’t eat it again for dinner

Isabel: You two enjoy your night!

Isabel: Talk books! Have fun!

They lured us in with Italian food, and we stumbled straight into their trap .

“The caramel one is pretty serious,” Wren says, trying not to laugh.

“They’re as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

She forces a frown. “Two headaches, though? Is this amateur hour?”

“They have no faith in me asking you out on my own.”

“They’re right to be worried. That ‘you have plans’ line was not your best work.” Her mouth tips into my favorite smirk.

We’re in a crowded vestibule or I would show her my best work. Since we have no privacy, I lean down to whisper in her ear, grazing my mouth over her soft skin, my hand on the small of her back, pulling her in. The warm scent of cinnamon envelops her. “Do you want to stay and have dinner with me?”

Her shiver elicits a low hum of satisfaction from my chest.

“Might as well,” she says, eyes bright. “Otherwise, you got all dressed up for nothing.”

I tell the hostess about our change in plans. Luckily, the long wait is only for larger parties, and she leads us through the busy restaurant to a two-top in the back. Wren and I sit down, the lively Italian music drowning out the conversations around us.

“I wish I could be as bold as they are,” Wren says over her open menu.

“You think you’re not bold?” She’s the boldest, brightest woman I’ve ever known.

“Oh, I am. I just think I could be worse. Those ladies are really inspiring me to up my menace game.”

“I won’t stand a chance.” I never did.

We place our orders, and the waitress walks away, leaving us to our relative privacy.

“How does August like his bell?” I ask.

Wren lights up as if he’s at the table with us. “He loves it. Rings it whether anyone’s around or not.”

“Told you. ”

“But at least I don’t have to worry about him running into people now.” She lifts a shoulder. “Not as much, anyway.”

“How is your apartment hunting?”

Her joy fades out. “I’m mostly avoiding it. I want a place of my own. I should have one by now, right? But I’m either finding sketchy places that will let me live there, or really nice places that don’t want me.”

“What are the grounds for that?” I have no basis for comparison since I’ve always lived somewhere on my family’s property. But it doesn’t seem right that a place would ban someone like Wren.

“I’ve been rejected by a few of the nicer apartment complexes because I don’t have any rental history.

Sort of the ‘Entry level job, five years’ experience required’ dilemma.

Without that, they want an extra fee which I’m too bitter to pay, and I can’t bear to ask my mom to cosign on an apartment. I’m almost thirty, for goodness sake.”

“And the sketchy places?”

“So gross. Smells, security issues, weird landlord vibes.”

I refuse to let my imagination run free with that one. Definitely don’t want her in a place that makes her uncomfortable.

“I wish I didn’t tell Leo he could stay in my old cabin, or I’d let you live in it.” I’m already considering kicking him out. He would find a place just fine.

“How do you have two houses? Seems like millionaire stuff.”

“It’s buying extensive property sixty years ago stuff.

My grandparents built a house for themselves and two small cabins for employees when they ran the lodge.

My parents took over the house and let Charlie and I live in the smaller ones when we were old enough.

So that cabin’s not legally mine, but if Leo weren’t in it, it would be yours for the taking. ”

“You wouldn’t mind me going through your old stuff? ”

“No. I like the idea of you in my bedroom.”

Her cheeks go pink, but she flashes me a haughty look. “A man with big dreams.”

“No doubt.”

She sips from her water glass, her eyes scanning the restaurant. When they land back on me, she pins me with a silent challenge. The slight eyebrow raise she gives me when we banter that says I dare you.

“How is your trails presentation going? Should I start looking for soft tomatoes?”

I chuckle softly. I guess my assumptions about what she was thinking got away with me there. “Not yet.”

She waits, apparently leaving her taunting behind. She and Lila must be on the same page tonight. This wasn’t my preferred topic of conversation.

“I’m getting close. I think. But it’s hard to judge when my imposter syndrome makes me think every idea I have is going to get booed.”

It’s a mostly technical presentation filled with verifiable facts and figures, but I’m still dragging my feet over it as though it’s my magnum opus. Mostly because every word is going to have to come out of my mouth. If someone else were giving it, I wouldn’t think twice.

Her gaze softens. “I would never guess that about you. You’re always so confident.”

“I’ve perfected my act.” Not something I would admit to anybody else.

She hitches a shoulder. “So have I.”

I shift one hand to the center of the table, palm up. She eyes it, and I almost think she’s going to resist. But she slides hers against mine, locking her fingers around me. Perfect.

“I’m sorry I keep joking about tomatoes,” she says. “Nobody’s going to boo you. I’m sure your presentation will convince everybody at that town hall.”

“You haven’t heard it yet.”

“No. But I know you care about biking and the trails. You can be really convincing about the things that spark your passion.”

I bask in that praise, determined not to ruin it with the sexy retort I want to make. What else can I convince you of, kitten?

“Stop with the smirking.” Her scolding doesn’t have much weight when she’s doing the same thing.

“I’m hearing that I’ve convinced you to let me rehab your bike.” It’s a weird thing to want, but it combines my two favorite things. Restoring an old bike for the woman I’m crazy about? Don’t make me beg.

“Maybe. But only because August keeps asking me to ride with him.”

“This is happening.” Even more so for August than me.

Our meals arrive, cheesy pastas with a hearty loaf of bread to share. Wren slathers a piece with butter and takes a generous bite. Her nose scrunches as she chews.

“Not good?” I ask.

“Not as good as yours,” she says after she swallows. “What’s your secret?”

“I’ll show you sometime.” Despite the teasing from the book club ladies, I like the sound of spending an afternoon making bread together. There’s a lot of downtime in the process. I’m sure we could find things to do.

We eat for a while in comfortable silence, punctuated by festive music and a dozen voices talking around us.

“So the wedding venue at the lodge was your idea, huh?” she says.

“No, Leo’s just the king of exaggeration. ”

“I’m starting to see that. And you’re fine with whatever’s going on between him and Charlie?”

“I’m staying out of it.” Hard to do when he’s not shy about his interest in her. He regularly texts me, fishing for advice I don’t give. “But I would be okay with it if she wanted to be with him. He’s a good guy.”

“Charlie doesn’t seem like she’s going to make it easy on him.”