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

FOUR

WREN

If I were a sweeter, kinder, more demure woman, I would have already forgiven Callahan for horning his way into the romance book club I’ve been trying to horn into. I would say, “It is what it is,” smile, and move on.

But I am a wretched woman full of snark and Dr. Pepper, so I barge into my house dreaming up ways to exact my revenge. Subscribe to junk mail in his name. Put up fliers around town that say “Get in Gear sucks.” Sneak into his house and burn all of his stupid flannel shirts.

Wait. Nope. Bad idea. That would leave him wandering around shirtless, and nobody wants to see that .

Nobody.

Even if I am kind of curious. Do the tattoos just stop at his shoulders or what?

Inside, a little voice shrieks, “Wren!” and all my frustrations melt away.

“August!”

My nephew hops off the kitchen chair where he was coloring and flies into my arms. I lift him up, and he squeezes me tight, his head on my shoulder, his little heart beating out his love.

This is the good stuff. Better than cream cheese brownies, a deep tissue massage, and The Princess Bride combined.

With one arm around my neck, he uses his other hand to brush his pale blond hair away from his forehead. He’s overdue for a trim. “Are you going to watch the movie with us?”

“I don’t know,” I tease. “Depends on which movie.”

“Robin Hood and Little John.”

I die every time he mispronounces “l” sounds. His speech impediment makes it Yittle John .

Never get old and jaded, my sweet boy.

I squeeze him around the middle until he giggles like I found all his tickle spots. “One of my favorites! But I always want to hang out with you.”

I’ve seen this little munchkin practically every day of his life, and I always want more.

He and my sister Tess lived right here with me and Mom up until a few months ago.

I practically pushed Tess to get her own place and now only have myself to blame for how my sad little heart aches whenever I walk by their empty rooms.

Forget sleep, exercise, and staying hydrated. My mental wellbeing rests entirely on nephew snuggles.

I set him back on his feet. “What did you do today?”

“I rode my bike and played with Dutch and built Legos and ate ice cream!” Words tumble out of his mouth faster than I can keep up, but I think I get the basics. It’s a good day.

“Ice cream for dinner? I didn’t know Nana was that much of a pushover.” Actually, I did know. Everyone melts for August.

“He didn’t have ice cream with us.” Mom walks into the dining room from the kitchen, smoothing her hands over her disheveled hair. “He had a boys’ afternoon with Ian.”

Speaking of melting for my nephew, Tess’s new boyfriend has become the mushiest. He started out as a Viking-styled hermit and now acts like the sun rises and sets over Tess and August. I’m here for it. They deserve to be cherished by someone who realizes their worth.

He’s also part of the reason August spends at least one night a week with us at the house. It gives Tess and Ian some alone time and affords endless cuddles for Mom and me.

“Ice cream was a treat, silly.” August grins, showing off a new gap in his smile. At six years old, this kid is losing teeth at an alarming rate. “Daniel made sausage and potatoes for dinner.”

As if answering a summons, Mom’s silver fox beau emerges from the kitchen. Sheriff Daniel O’Grady. He looks kind of rumpled, too, his short hair askew in the front and his T-shirt wrinkly.

Oh. Oh, no. They were making out in the kitchen again. For shame. You’d think a bakery owner would be more hygienic than that.

That’s another big change around here. Not only did Tess finally move out and meet a fantastic man, but Mom’s dating again.

It took her twenty years after Dad left, so it’s a big deal.

I’m glad she’s happy. But when I asked her if we were getting a stepdad, I meant it as a joke, not a wish.

Daniel isn’t here twenty-four-seven, but it’s only a matter of time.

It’s a fresh reminder I need to get a place of my own. I paused my apartment search after meeting one mild-to-moderately creepy landlord too many. Now, I’m waiting for my best friend, Hope, to move in with her fiancé so I can swoop in and take over her apartment. It’s a genius plan.

“There’s leftovers if you want some,” Daniel offers. “Mo wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry after your book group.”

Mo . He’s given Mom a nickname that never fails to make her blush. I didn’t even know the woman was physically capable of blushing up until the summer. Suddenly, she’s fooling around at every opportunity and blushing up a storm .

Gross.

“They fed us, but I’m always in the mood for a tasty potato.” I head for the kitchen, but Daniel cuts me off.

“I’ll get a plate for you. You relax with your mom and August.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks. That’s…nice.”

I sit next to August, who has returned to his Avengers-themed coloring book.

I make a mental note to find a pin-up of Thor in there and hide it somewhere for Tess to find.

She might have her own real-life Thor now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to forget about her old crush on the hunky superhero.

Mom sits across from us. “Daniel just wants to be helpful,” she whispers.

“I know,” I whisper back, even though I have my doubts about our privacy. Aren’t law enforcement officers required to have supersonic hearing or something?

She lifts an eyebrow, telegraphing, “Then act like it.”

I’m trying, but it’s a lot to get used to. It’s been the three of us for so long—and then August made four—it’s hard to adjust to the new dynamic. Plus, it’s awfully soon to cozy up to my mom’s new man, right? They’ve only been dating a little while.

I’ll just ignore the fact they’ve basically been in love and yearning for each other for years.

Daniel returns a minute later with a plateful of roasted red potatoes topped with a few seared sausage chunks. He sets it in front of me along with a fork and takes a seat next to Mom. His arm automatically goes around the back of her chair, and she leans into him, placing a hand on his leg.

I avert my eyes like I’m avoiding Medusa’s stare. It’s my signature move lately. Every important woman in my life has paired off and become mushy . And then there’s me. Tough, gristly Wren.

“How was the romance book club?” Mom asks .

I take a bite of potato and automatically wish I had a slice of Callahan’s bread to go with it. My tastebuds are traitors, but they know good food.

“It was neither as exclusive nor as scandalous as I was led to believe.” I wonder if I can get them to spice things up with a little paranormal action one day. A vampire could be good. Maybe a werewolf. I bet Fran would be into that.

“I think you led yourself to those conclusions, honey.”

“They were fishy and weird whenever it came up. Obviously, I’m going to assume something racy.” Aside from their questionable Callahan-ogling, it was literally just talking about romance books.

“Are you going to stop going now that your curiosity’s been satisfied?”

“Oh, no. They’re stuck with me.” Now that I know Callahan’s involved, I’ll never drop out. Not unless he does first. I’m locked in.

“What’s next?” Mom asks. “Another historical?”

“Contemporary cowboy.” I wrinkle my nose. I’m not bothered by the cowboy. It’s the hints about how the main female character falls for the guy she doesn’t like that make me doubt the book choice. I can only suspend so much disbelief.

“We’re going to try that new ramen restaurant in town this week,” Daniel says casually. “Want to join us?”

“I like ramen!” August pipes up.

Daniel’s smile warms. “You’re welcome to come, too, pal.”

August lights up at that. Daniel’s focus swivels to me, that same kind, fatherly expression on his face.

I genuinely don’t know how I’m supposed to respond to it.

My dad left when I was eight, and after a few half-hearted visits, dropped out of our lives.

It’s easy for August to soak up attention from Ian and Daniel because he’s never had a man in his life.

I have, and I know how it crushes your soul when that man decides he doesn’t love you enough to bother anymore.

Stalling, I chew another bite of surprisingly delicious potato. What is it with men and their excellent kitchen skills today?

Unfortunately, that makes me think of when Callahan mentioned skills in other rooms, and I almost choke on my food.

“I don’t know if I can.” I’ve been meaning to try the restaurant, but I’m a third wheel often enough as it is. We’re together practically all the time at home. I don’t need to join them on their nights out, too. “I might need to read up for the next book club.”

“That’s a month away, isn’t it?” Mom says.

Busted.

“It’s not just that. I’ve also got…” I scramble for something, anything else going on in my life.

I’m not involved in any other clubs or groups.

I don’t have a side hustle. I don’t have a boyfriend, and all my closest friends are occupied with theirs.

It’s just me and my newfound crochet addiction against the world. “Things to do.”

An exquisite excuse.

“That’s okay.” Daniel’s unfazed by my rejection. He probably has a lot of experience from trying to make perps confess their crimes. Or whatever he does. “You can join us another time.”

I make a finger gun at him but immediately ball my hand into a fist. That’s probably offensive and could possibly be seen as a threat. Arresting me might put a damper on his relationship with Mom. “Another time. I’m going to change, and then I’ll be down for movies.”

I mostly say this to August, who cheers as I leave the table to tuck my empty plate into the dishwasher and run upstairs.

Shutting myself into my bedroom, I breathe easier. I change into soft flannel pajama pants, take off my bra with a deep sigh, and put on a T-shirt that says In your dreams . Then, I flop onto my bed and check my phone.

Hope: How did book club go?

Hope: I need to know