Page 36 of One Small Spark (Love in Sunshine #4)

Wren freezes. “Why didn’t I think of that? I could have been joyriding in your truck ages ago.”

“‘Holy Cheez-its?’” I repeat.

She darts a hand out to smack my chest but only manages a light caress with her knuckles. “Habit. I guess it’s too late to shove you out my window and make you jump off the roof.”

“Sounds like it.”

She exhales a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

I follow her back down the stairs. Maureen Krause and Sheriff Daniel O’Grady stand by the front door, tracking our progress like we’re aliens beaming down to earth.

Maureen looks remarkably like Wren and Tess—long blond hair, blue eyes, similar heart-shaped face. She’s bundled up in a warm sweater and scarf. Sheriff O’Grady is more imposing, with his gray hair cut into a severe buzz and the stern gaze of a man who’s been in law enforcement all his life.

“What exactly—?” Maureen lifts a hand to point at us but drops it again.

Her reaction is understandable. She’s only ever seen Wren and me bicker. Suddenly, we’re caught leaving Wren’s bedroom? I’d have questions, too.

“Callahan has trouble sleeping at night all alone in his cabin in the woods,” Wren tells her. “I offered him one of my little stuffies to comfort him.”

I lift the green mutant still clutched in my hand and shake it as evidence. Mostly to get Sheriff O’Grady’s steely gaze off of me. It doesn’t work.

Wren’s sass seems to break her mother out of her confusion. “You’ll have to forgive her, Shepherd. Snark is her love language.”

“I’m used to it.” I’m also used to the pert frown on her mouth. Probably disliking a very specific word in that sentence.

“Shepherd.” The sheriff holds out his hand, and we shake. “Mo says that’s Wren’s old bike in the back of your truck.”

I admire the way he’s asking me a question without actually asking. Not that I’d want to endure much direct questioning from him about Wren.

She hasn’t been straightforward with them, but I opt for honesty. About this much, anyway. “I’m going to fix it up for her so she can ride with August.”

Maureen reacts as if I told her I rescue children from burning buildings in my spare time. “Oh, Shepherd, how sweet. August will love that.”

“But don’t say anything to him until I’m ready,” Wren adds. “Just in case it turns out I can’t actually ride anymore.”

“You can always learn again,” I tell her.

“Very close to doing things,” she sing-songs.

Her ridiculousness brings out a rumble of laughter. “I forgot we would hate that.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” the sheriff asks me. I can’t quite bring myself to think of him as Daniel. Especially not when he’s sizing me up like he’s searching for evidence. “Mo and I are going to make butternut squash mac and cheese.”

“He would, but Callahan is a busy man.” Wren nudges my arm, apparently trying to herd me through the house .

“I promised my sister I’d go see her progress at the lodge,” I tell him honestly. “If I don’t follow through, there will be blowback.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing the renovated barn at the gala,” Maureen says. “It’s going to be a special evening from all I hear.”

“That’s the rumor.” Not that I know enough to confirm or deny. Acquaintances and even a few customers have asked me about it. I have to refer them to the lodge’s website.

“We can take a rain check on dinner.” The sheriff snakes an arm around Maureen’s waist. “Another night, maybe with the whole family.”

“I—”

Wren practically body slams me, one arm around my back, the other on my chest, urging me sideways. I appreciate the lack of personal space, but her desperation to get rid of me doesn’t give me warm fuzzies.

“We don’t want to make Callahan late for Charlie. She’ll tear him a new one.”

“Wren.” Maureen looks ready to deliver a reprimand, but Wren’s already pushing me through the living room toward the back door.

“It was good to see you.” I lift a hand as Wren manhandles me outside. Once she gets the door slammed shut behind us and we’re in the safety of the driveway, I look down at her. “That was subtle.”

“It’s kind of soon for family dinners, isn’t it?”

Her reluctance makes sense. Squeezes something tender in my chest, but makes sense. This thing between us is new. I wouldn’t want to be on display at a family dinner, either.

Except…with Wren, I wouldn’t mind. But she’s not there yet.

“I mean, yes, he’s sometimes here when Tess and August and Ian come over for dinner, but now he’s issuing invitations for the whole family?” She wraps her arms around herself. “A little presumptuous if you ask me.”

The tightness in my chest eases like somebody lifted a bowling ball off of it. Which is insensitive, since Wren is clearly uncomfortable about the changes with her mom’s relationship. But for a minute there, I thought she was taking two major steps back in ours .

I can’t make demands, but I want all the forward momentum.

She exhales a soft groan. “I just realized. He’s going to have Thanksgiving dinner with us, isn’t he?”

I tuck her hair behind her ear, trailing my fingers along the delicate skin there. “Why are you upset about the sheriff?”

She stares at my truck instead of me. “I know I sound like a thirteen-year-old girl who hates her new stepdad. I’m happy for Mom. I really am. I just don’t know how we’re supposed to navigate all this stuff.”

“Which stuff?”

“I don’t know. The ‘this man is now part of our lives’ stuff, I guess. It’s been just the three of us forever, August notwithstanding.”

“You don’t have to do anything major. Just get to know him a little at a time.”

“Is that smart, though? Do we really want to get attached to this guy?” She drops her voice but doesn’t lose her bite. “He could change his mind. He could decide to leave tomorrow, and even if we asked him to stay?—”

She snaps her mouth shut. Her shoulders slump, and she drags both hands down her face. Her eyes grow so sad, my arms ache to reach out and pull her to me. A ragged groan slips out of her, but she finally meets my gaze.

“I don’t ask for things like this often, so please understand the gravity of what I’m about to request.” She takes a deep breath. “But could you hug me, please?”

I step in and wrap her up in my arms, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other tight across her back even as I grip the stuffy she gave me. “Always, Wren.”

We stay like that in the driveway for a long time, her arms tucked up between our chests. I hold her, blocking out the cold as we breathe through it. I don’t know what she’s processing, but it’s significant that she’s willing to process it with me.

After a while, she shifts, moving to embrace me in return. “I’m not the first person to suggest it, but I should probably go to therapy.”

I squeeze her tighter, lightly caressing as though I can fuse her broken pieces back together, whatever they are. “I can refer you to the practice I go to if you need a suggestion.”

“That would be good.” She rests her forehead against my chest. “This is so bad. Mental breakdowns are not attractive.”

I run my hands over her back. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Wren. Would it comfort you to know just how attractive I find you?”

She laughs, but releases me, dragging her hands across my sides as she takes a step back. “I don’t know if comfort is the right word.”

I tilt my head down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m fine. That crisis was nothing.”

She’s aiming for her usual indifference but doesn’t hit her mark.

“I’m here for you. Anything you need.”

Her little smile works its way straight through my ribcage and into my heart.

“You know that thing where you’re upset about something but you’re frustrated because obviously, it’s not a big deal, that can’t be what’s making you upset?

And then you realize what’s actually making you upset and now you’re even more frustrated with yourself because that ?

That is the cause of the trouble?” She throws her arms out wide. “That’s pretty much me right now.”

“Surprisingly relatable.”

“Thank you for…you know.”

She’s painfully bad at the emotional side of things. That’s okay. I’m not always the best, either. Maybe together, we can work it out. But for now, I can offer her a distraction.

“You mean the other night when I kissed you until you forgot your name?”

Her mouth drops open into an indignant O . “Sir. I kissed you that time.”

I flash her my smuggest smirk. “You sure did, kitten.”

“You’d better go meet up with your sister or I’m going to tear you a new one.”

I take a couple of steps backward but hold up the stuffy. “Thank you for this guy. Does he have a name?”

“Cheeseball. Like his father before him.”

“Aww. Touching.” I round the back of the truck. “See you, Krause.”

“Bye, Callahan.”

In my rearview, I watch her wait in the driveway until I turn onto the street, my ribs aching like I left my heart back there with her.