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FOURTEEN

ANDRE

“The live streaming setup looks good.” Wade tapped their tablet, showing me the final layout for the festival events. “We’ve got all the key locations covered, and the crew is ready to go. We did streams from each location earlier today to verify the wireless was strong.”

I checked off another item from our list. A shocking amount had come together in the last twenty-four hours. “And we’re sure the network capacity will hold even with activity from the attendees?”

“Triple-checked it myself.” Wade grinned. “Plus we’ve got backup hotspots if needed.”

We sat in one of the library’s community rooms, a comfortable space for the last planning meeting. Olivia sat cross-legged in an overstuffed chair, flipping through a final copy of the festival program she’d designed.

“These turned out amazing.” She held up the booklet. “The printer really nailed the colors.”

Mickey, who’d brought coffee for everyone, peered over her shoulder. “They did. The whole thing looks fabulous.” He looked up at me. “What do you think about where we are?”

“For a moment I didn’t think we’d make it, but we did.”

Mickey cocked his head. “And?”

I shrugged, reluctant to voice my concern.

“I know your tells. What are you not saying?”

Wade looked up from their tablet and Olivia closed the program booklet.

I sighed. “Ethan mentioned needing help with his speech but hasn’t asked me to look it over, even though I’ve seen him every day this week.”

“You’re worried.”

“Maybe.” The nagging idea pushed its way to the forefront of my mind. “He told me public speaking isn’t his thing, and this is a big moment. I should’ve asked him about it before now.”

“I’m sure if he needed help, he would’ve asked.” Olivia sat up. “He seems to handle himself under pressure well.”

“True.” I recalled how naturally he’d handled the story time. “I just want to make sure he feels supported.”

“Speaking of support,” Olivia interjected with a sly grin. “How’s the tent situation?”

Wade snickered before covering their mouth.

Heat crept up my neck as I fought back a smile. “The tents are fine. And that’s all we need to discuss about that.”

“Uh-huh.” Mickey’s tone was teasing.

“And with that, I need to go.” I started packing up.

“Really?” Olivia sounded shocked. “I mean, it’s good that you’re not going to keep checking and double-checking for a few more hours, but this is something new for you.”

“Yup. I’m calling it a day. You’ve all said everything is set, and that means there’s nothing more to do.” I couldn’t help grinning.

Mickey stared at me. “Are you going to go hang out in the back corner of Special Blend again?”

“Not tonight.” I debated if I wanted to say more. Since these were my closest friends, it was easy to continue. “But before you ask, I’ll tell you that I’m having dinner with Ethan.”

“Then go. Get out of here.” Olivia made shooing motions. “It’s all good.”

“Thanks. You’ve all been amazing getting us ready to kick off tomorrow.”

“Have a good night.” Mickey’s voice sounded sincere. “You deserve it.”

Before showing up at Ethan’s, I picked up dessert from Sparky’s, another of Maplewood’s diners, and went home to change.

Khaki slacks and a polo felt too formal for a summer evening dinner.

After considering a few options, I settled on a soft green T-shirt, light blue denim shorts, and sneakers. Much better.

Just before seven, I pulled up to Ethan’s, excited but nervous about our first official date.

As I came up the stairs, carrying a pie box, the front door swung open to reveal Ethan in a fitted gray T-shirt, dark shorts, and sandals.

He looked both casual and unfairly attractive.

The shirt clung to his broad shoulders and chest, making my mouth go dry.

His dark hair was tousled, like he’d just run his fingers through it.

His warm, welcoming smile made my heart soar.

“Hey.” He opened the door wide and stepped aside. “Come in. Sorry about the boxes everywhere. I haven’t had much time to unpack. I hadn’t thought about that when I invited you.”

Even with the boxes, it was obvious the house suited him.

The floor-to-ceiling fireplace was stunning.

I imagined how he might decorate it for Christmas.

The open layout connected to the kitchen, and I understood why he wanted to try it out.

It was decked out yet enough rustic charm remained that it didn’t clash with the living room or what I saw of the dining room.

“Looks like you have your work cut out for you.” I put my hand on top of a stack of boxes.

Ethan chuckled as he closed the door. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess right now, but it’ll get there. We threw stuff in boxes so I had what I needed before the streaming team moved in.”

“I can already tell this is going to be a comfortable place to be.”

“Thanks.” His smile faltered. “Wait, did you bring a Sparky’s box into my house? Does Mickey know about that?”

“Mickey knows I need to stay neutral in the diner rivalry since I help organize events that might include both of them.” I worried I’d messed up as Ethan put his hands on his hips. “Wait, are you fully Team Red’s?”

“Depends on what’s in the box.” He smirked and I was less concerned that I’d wrecked the night before it’d even started.

“Maple cream pie.” I went over to him and opened the box.

He leaned in, getting so close I thought he might end up with whipped cream on his nose. An image of me licking the cream off flashed through my mind, and I struggled to push the appealing thought away.

A low hum came from Ethan. “Mickey cannot know this was here.” There was a seriousness in his voice.

“Duly noted.”

“I love Red’s maple custard, but Sparky’s cream pie—oh man. I honestly love them both, but I’d be in so much trouble if that got around.”

“Consider me your hookup.” I winked at him.

“Hopefully, my dinner is worthy to serve before this.” He closed the lid and took the box.

“I’m sure it will be.”

“Keep me company while I cook?” He led me through to the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, iced hibiscus tea, beer?”

“The tea sounds great.” Did he know I liked that flavor or did he like it too?

I leaned against the kitchen island, watching as he moved confidently around the space. Despite the boxes scattered throughout, the kitchen seemed well-organized, with equipment and ingredients laid out just so.

“How were the final preparations today?” Ethan asked, handing me the tea before returning to the stove where he was working on the salmon.

“Good. Everything’s ready.” I took a sip of tea. “Wow. This is fantastic. And how about you? Ready for it? Like I said, I’m happy to help if you need it.”

“I’m as ready as I can be. I’ve been practicing with my moms and Liam. I didn’t want to bother you with it. You’ve already helped a lot with judging stuff.”

Despite his words, his voice held a hint of tension as he checked the vegetables roasting in the oven. I felt bad that he didn’t think he could ask.

“The offer still stands if you need it. But, having seen you in action this week, I’m sure you’ll be wonderful.”

He shot me a grateful look. “Thanks. Though right now I’d rather not think about it. I’ll be anxious enough tomorrow. Tonight I’d like to focus on cooking a tasty meal and hanging out with you.”

“It already smells incredible.” I watched as he expertly flipped the salmon. “Can I help with anything?”

“Nope. You’re my guest.” He gestured at me to stay where I was.

We fell into easy conversation as he cooked, discussing everything from other summer festivals to hockey camp. He seemed so at ease, precise and confident in a way that reminded me of how I’d seen him move on the ice when I watched games.

“I was thinking we could sit outside. It’s a pleasant evening.” He moved the salmon fillets onto plates and then pulled the tray of vegetables out of the oven.

“That sounds great.”

“Do you want anything different to drink? Normally I’d offer wine with this, but I forgot to pick any up when I was at the store.” He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it again. The way some fell over his forehead was ridiculously cute.

“No worries.” I raised my glass. “The tea is perfect.”

“If you’ll grab my glass”—he gestured near the stove—“we can head out.”

Ethan took the plates and I followed with his tea.

The view from the deck was amazing. Trees stretched out before us, framed by the rustic wooden rails. The edge of the lake shimmered in the evening light. In the soft breeze, leaves rustled and waves lapped at the lake’s shore. This was an ideal place to relax.

“I hope you enjoy it,” Ethan said once we were settled at the table, where he’d already placed silverware and napkins.

He’d perfectly cooked the salmon. It flaked at the slightest touch from my fork. “Wow,” I exclaimed after the first bite. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks.” A slight blush colored his cheeks. “I got into cooking a couple of years ago. It’s relaxing, you know? Following recipes, getting everything right.”

“Well, I’m impressed.” I gestured at my plate with my fork. “My cooking skills are more breakfast based.”

“Oh, what’s your specialty?”

“Frittatas with a mix of meat and veg.”

“Yum.”

“Breakfast at my place sometime?”

Oh man. I couldn’t believe I’d said that. That implied a second date. Was that too much? Would it be a date that began the evening before or a breakfast-only date? I willed myself to keep my expression even.

“I’d love that.” His smile was big and warmed me through.

We ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying the company, the food, and the view. Ethan’s vibe kept me from needing to fill the space.

“Can I ask you something without getting us into a bad place?” Ethan’s voice carried hesitation.

I put my fork down to give him my full attention. “Yes. Please ask.”

“What were your plans for this place?” He paused and looked at me as if trying to decide if he should continue. “I’ve been curious ever since you mentioned wanting to turn it into a camp.”

My temper threatened to flare, and I tamped it down. I hoped my face didn’t telegraph that. He was interested, and there was no need to get mad at that. I took a sip of tea, gathering my thoughts.

“I wanted to create a summer camp for queer youth. Something small to start—a few weeks of the summer. Not everyone gets to grow up experiencing the inclusiveness we have here. A camp run by people who embrace all that Maplewood stands for would be great for anyone to experience.”

Ethan nodded encouragingly, and the words began flowing more easily.

“I imagined arts programs, sports clinics, nature activities. I want to give kids a community where they are valued and supported and send them home with new friends they can stay in touch with.” I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s just an idea.”

“It’s a beautiful idea.” Ethan’s voice was soft, sincere. “What were you looking at for funding?”

“I’ve got some money already promised if I can secure land. There are other grants I can apply for too. Plus I’ve been saving for years because I’ve had this in my head for a while.” I smiled ruefully.

He reached across the table and his fingers interlaced with mine, sending that now-familiar spark up my arm. “Don’t let the idea go. There are so many options. Maybe we could work on it together.”

The possibility hung in the air. Before I could respond, Ethan squeezed my hand and stood up.

“Want to take a walk? This place is beautiful at this time of day, and I’d love to show you around.”

“I’d like that.” The idea of walking somewhere that wasn’t around town with him thrilled me. And he’d raised the prospect of working together on the camp.

We cleared the dishes, working in easy synchronization. We agreed that the pie could wait as a post-walk treat.

The evening air was perfect as we stepped off the deck, a pleasant temperature with low humidity. Ethan led the way down a well-worn path, our shoulders occasionally brushing as we walked.

“I think I told you I used to come here all the time as a kid.” He glanced at me sometimes as he talked. “We’d play hockey in the winter. And in summer, we’d spend hours exploring trails, swimming, and goofing off.”

The path wound through a grove of maple trees, their leaves creating patterns of shadow and light on the ground. Without discussion, our hands found each other, fingers intertwining.

“It must feel surreal owning it now.”

“A little, yeah.” He squeezed my hand. “Good surreal, though. Like everything’s coming full circle.”

We emerged from the trees near the pond, where the setting sun painted the surface in shades of gold and pink. A pair of ducks glided across the surface, leaving ripples in their wake.

“I can see why you love it here.” I watched the ducks dip underwater and pop back up. “It’s peaceful.”

“It is.” Ethan turned to face me, his expression thoughtful.

He raised my hand and brought it to his lips, planting soft kisses on my knuckles.

“Oh.” That was the only sound I could make.

“Is this okay?” He held my hand close to his mouth.

I nodded.

“How about this?” He gently lowered my hand, still in his, and leaned in. His lips found mine and we kissed.

“Even better,” I mumbled, refusing to take my mouth off his. There was the lightest scratch from his stubble. It felt great against mine.

“Hmmm” was his only response.

When we parted, staying close enough to share breath, Ethan’s lips curved in a dazed, almost dreamy smile. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too.” I brushed my thumb across his cheek, memorizing the way he leaned into the touch.