Page 34 of One Small Spark (Love in Sunshine #4)

TWENTY-FOUR

WREN

I really should not have ordered dessert.

The pasta’s going to do a number on my stomach as it is.

But the zabaglione sounded so good, I couldn’t resist. Plus, it’s still early.

And fine. If I’m being totally honest, I’m not ready for the night to end.

Even if Shepherd is trying to widen my activities bubble to include outdoorsy things.

And possibly naked people.

But I’m enjoying myself. Despite this night happening entirely due to scheming ladies and subterfuge.

Okay. Maybe I’m enjoying making Shepherd squirm, too. I might have unnecessarily licked my spoon as I ate my creamy custard dotted with strawberries. The way his gaze is stuck on my mouth like nothing in the world could be more important than whatever my lips do next? Kind of intoxicating.

He clears his throat, his eyes tracking the movement as I lick a spot of custard from my lips. “What, uh…what kind of state is your bike in?”

He’s so cute, searching for a solid distraction. I’ll have mercy on him.

“The tires are flat and crunchy. I wouldn’t trust the brakes. The handle grips are brittle and falling apart. There’s rusty bits everywhere. I don’t know what else.” I picture it, forgotten in a corner in the garage. “The license plate that says ‘Girl Power’ is in good shape.”

That seems to focus his attention away from my mouth. “That’s all doable. I can come pick it up sometime. I doubt you’ll want to ride it before spring, but I can have it ready for you in a couple of weeks.”

“How much will fixing all that stuff cost?” If it’s going to come close to the price of a basic bike, I won’t bother. I’m not even sure I want to ride in the first place. I sure don’t want to spend a lot of money on the experience.

But oh, it would make August so happy if we could ride together when he visits.

Shepherd looks at me like I’m speaking Dutch. “There’s no cost.”

I see what he’s doing, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. “There must be some cost. Replacing those parts isn’t free. Your labor isn’t free.”

He just pins me with a dead-eye stare. “I’m not going to charge you, Wren.”

Ugh, saying my name like that is so rude. Now I probably look as dazed as he did a minute ago with the spoon incident.

“Is there a friends and family discount at Get in Gear?”

“Something like that.”

“Does that mean we’re friends now?” No! I was supposed to ask all cynically with a tough edge to my voice. Not soft and uncertain, like something vital hangs on his answer.

He must hear it, too. The man smirks—my new most-slash-least favorite sight in the world. “Something like that.”

My phone buzzes in my purse. Shepherd turns to where he left his on the booth beside him, and it’s buzzing just as insistently. Our friends are back in the chat. I’m starting to regret finagling my way into that invitation to romance book club.

Well. Not really.

Isabel: I hope Shepherd and Wren were able to salvage the evening

Isabel: Did you have a nice night without us?

Fran: And is another night without us on the horizon?

Barb: They might not want to do a tell-all in the group chat

Nora: But we all want to know

Rosetta: This might not be the best approach

Shepherd scrubs a hand over his beard. “I didn’t think ahead to this part.”

I start typing. “We can be menaces, too.”

Wren: We decided to wait until everyone could join in the fun

Wren: I had ramen at home

Wren: Made good progress on our next book

Wren: No idea what Callahan’s doing

Shepherd grins over his phone. “You just broke six hearts.”

“They deserve it. You can’t pretend you’re not meddling and then pry for details on the results.”

Anyway, if they know their nefarious plans are working, they’ll just get more daring. Really, it’s not about us. It’s for the good of all of Sunshine.

I tap on my phone. “Those ladies are lemon pies with ginger cookie crusts. Sharp flavor with aftertastes that never let you forget it.”

Ada: You were supposed to stay and have dinner together

Fran: It’s such a romantic restaurant

Nora: Poor Shepherd, all alone

Isabel: He won’t be alone for long, mark my words

Fran: That tall drink of water will snag somebody, I have no doubt

Shepherd: I’m still in the chat

Fran: I know you are [winking face emoji]

“They’re so confident in you.” I ignore the weird jealousy creeping through me over the idea they might have some other woman on the back burner for him. Give me a minute here, people!

He laughs. “To an unsettling degree."

Isabel: I can’t believe after all that planning, they actually left without having dinner together!

Isabel: Could we have made it any more obvious for them?

Isabel: What are we going to do, girls?

Rosetta: You’re still posting in the main chat

Isabel: …

Isabel: It’s the allergy medication

Isabel: It’s making me type nonsense

Wren: You said you had a headache

Isabel: I do

Isabel: Caused by allergies

I snort. “They’re not very good at butting into people’s lives.”

“Their plan was a success.”

He’s right. We had dinner together at a small table in low lighting and held hands through half of it. They would be screaming and jumping up and down if they knew.

“When are you going to let them know the truth?”

Why does his question feel like he’s asking about more than just our scheming friends? And why do I not have an answer? I can’t just blurt out what’s going on in my private life to people. Mostly because I’m not entirely sure myself.

“I’m going to let them simmer for a while,” I say.

A description that applies equally to me.

The check arrives, and Shepherd lays down his credit card.

I grab my wristlet wallet next to me. “We can split it.”

“I’ve got it.”

“But I still owe you for that drink.” I think about the way he stepped in with the guy at the bar. All protective and territorial and handsome. I just blur out the rest of the evening when I reminisce.

His smirk makes my heart flutter. “You can still buy me a drink sometime, Wren.”

Well. Okay, then.

When we get up to leave the table, our hands lock between us like this kind of PDA is something we do all the time. Natural. Not at all making a strange tingling sensation rush through my body like I just took a leap off a bridge with a bungee cord attached to my ankles.

Or so I’d imagine.

In the parking lot, I guide us to my car while we work out days for him to get my bike and for the hot springs excursion he’s so excited about. That one’s tougher, since we both need the day off, but we manage to find times that line up.

And it’s not nearly enough. I’ll see him in a few days at my house for the bike. A handful of days after that, we’ll go to the hot springs. But all I can think about are the stretch of days in between.

I used to hate this man’s face. Kind of. And now, the thought of not seeing it for more than a few hours makes me curiously sad.

We reach my car but don’t let go of each other.

“Thanks for letting Isabel and the others coerce you into taking me to dinner.” I gaze up at him, telegraphing my hope for a goodnight kiss loud and clear.

“No coercion necessary, Wren.” He gazes back, no doubt calculating just how slowly he can make his move.

I hate waiting.

So why am I? I’ve let him take control before, but that doesn’t mean he gets to keep it forever. It’s my turn again.

I reach up to take his face in both my hands. Ugh, this man is the cutest. With his messy hair and dark, broody eyes. His beard I want to run my fingers over until he purrs like a cat. His mouth with the bottom lip a little fuller than the top. He is exceptionally kissable.

So I indulge.

I pull him down to meet me, our mouths pressing together as his hands find my waist. He lets me take charge, following along where I lead. Gentle kisses here. A little more passion there. I lick the edge of his lower lip, and he groans open for me.

I thought I wanted to move to the alley. Then, I wanted to live in the doorway of his cabin. Now, this parking lot is pretty excellent. I just want to be wherever Shepherd Callahan is kissing me.

This is right. This is good. We should kiss like this every night.

But probably not in front of a busy restaurant downtown. A car honks as it drives by, breaking the spell we were under. We pull apart just enough to see each other clearly.

“Goodnight, Wren.”

His low voice is like a gentle wave, rocking my boat as I drift out to sea. I’m…maybe a little dazed from that kiss.

He smirks down at me, sparking my dignity back to life. I straighten but don’t quite manage to leave his arms.

“Goodnight, Callahan. I come in late tomorrow. Don’t park in my space.”

The man just smirks harder. My pulse races to a frenetic beat.

“You hate it when I don’t park in your space.”

I really do.