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But now that we were on the way there, it didn’t seem like enough. I’d made such a big deal by saying how when I took him on a date, he would know it, that I worried he would be expecting something much grander. My dad always said under-promise and over-deliver, so I hoped I hadn’t shot myself in the foot with this and over-promised.
I reached down and took his hand. I’d never been much of one for handholding in public. You just never knew when you might stumble across a homophobic asshole, so I figured, why risk it? But here in River Gorge, I figured it would be okay, and when I saw a small smile tug at his lips, I was glad I’d done it. Besides, with Spencer, it just felt right.
As we came around the corner onto Main Street, he looked up at me and chuckled. “Are you seriously not going to tell me where we’re going?”
I considered dragging it out longer and seeing if he figured it out, but we were almost there, so I figured I might as well tell him. “So, I don’t know if you’ve heard of this event the town is putting on tonight. They’re calling it an art walk. It’s just right up the street.”
He pulled his hand out of mine and turned to me, a huge smile on his face. “Are you serious? Is that where we’re going? To the art walk?”
“I mean, that’s what I was planning, but if you don’t want to go, we can always do something else,” I teased, since it was obvious by his reaction that he wanted to go.
“I was at Witty Weavers, the yarn shop that’s part of Artist Row, just this morning, and Tammy was asking me if I was going. I told her I wanted to, but I had an important date tonight, so I couldn’t go.”
I was glad to hear he considered this an important date, because I sure did, as well.
“When I heard about it, I had a feeling that it would be something you’d enjoy.”
“I’m sure I will. They’re supposed to have food trucks, a band, and a lot of the artists are going to host open their studios. It sounds like so much fun.”
“We can start there and stay as long as we want. If we don’t find anything fun to do, or we don’t see anything we want to eat, we can always go somewhere else, but I thought it would be a good start.”
He reached down and placed his hand back in mine. “I think it’ll be perfect.”
I gave his hand a squeeze, and we resumed walking down the sidewalk. “It looks like there’s going to be a pretty good turn-out if the number of people moseying around downtown is any sign. Normally, this late, everything on Main Street other than Pete’s Pizza and the diner is closed up, and it’s a ghost town down here.”
He nodded. “I hope so. I think it would be awesome if they could have it every month.”
A few people said hello to Spencer as we walked by, and a couple even stopped to ask him how he was doing, but no one made any comments about our joined hands. “You seem to know a lot of people here in River Gorge.”
“I don’t really know that many, but working at the only urgent care means I’ve met a lot of them.”
“Well, they all seem to really like you. I bet you’re a great nurse. You did a fantastic job on my shoulder that day.”
His cheeks colored slightly, and he smiled up at me. “I try. You know, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do after high school, and my uncle’s a nurse, so it seemed like a decent option, but I actually really love the job. Especially here in River Gorge.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you’re here.” I leaned down and brushed a kiss to his temple. “Now, do you want to walk down Fourth Street or cut through the park?”
“The park. I love it there.”
“It is really cool. There are all kinds of parks and public spaces in Vesper, but none of them feel as homey and welcoming as this one here does.”
“I know. We have small little parks in Austin in some empty spaces like this, but they have a totally different vibe. This feels…I don’t know, like River Gorge somehow.”
I glanced around at the murals painted on the walls of two buildings on either side of the park and decided he was right. It was cheerful and inclusive, and yet somehow, still West Texas in style. There was no other way to describe the area except to say it felt like River Gorge.
Spencer
This whole evening had been nothing short of unbelievable. Of all the things Nash could’ve planned, nothing could have been better, and add to that the strong, almost possessive, grip he had on my hand, and I was practically floating.
“Oh, look! Ty Ingalls has his studio doors open.”
“You know Ty?” Nash asked.
“Not well, but he’s one of those people who found his way into the urgent care last summer, and we’ve been kind of friendly ever since. I love his artwork. It’s absolutely amazing.”
We went up the steps and into Ty’s shop. He was chatting with an older woman who looked vaguely familiar but whose name I wasn’t sure about. He glanced over at us and gave us a nod of acknowledgment before going back to the conversation.
“Let’s look around a little bit while he finishes talking,” I suggested.
