“Bake?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“What’s your favorite thing to bake?” he asked.
“Cupcakes,” she said without hesitation.
“I’ve never been able to turn down a cupcake.”
Her brow arched. “Is that a hint?”
“Maybe.” He smiled again. “Guess I’d better be gettin’ home,” he said, pushing away from the table. “Bill Farnsworth is dropping off his ’57 Ford truck for a tune-up in the morning. He’s spiffin’ it up for the parade.”
“Parade? What parade?”
“The First Annual Maple Falls Fall Parade. It was Hayden’s idea. He’s tired of Mayor Quickel sittin’ on his hands about bringin’ back community events. After August’s business meetin’ when Quickel put off discussin’ things again, Hayden contacted all of us privately, and we decided to do a small parade toward the end of October.”
“I’ve been so out of the loop I had no idea,” she said.
“It’s small, just a short parade with a few antique cars. All the businesses in town are handing out Halloween candy to the kids. We haven’t publicized it too much. Quickel’s been gone for the past two weeks anyway on his monthlong annual vacation. What he don’t know won’t hurt him.”
Harper nodded. She’d met Quickel twice, and he’d creeped her out both times. “That’s for sure. Can I do something? Donate some bags of candy, maybe?”
“I’m sure you could, but you’ll have to talk to Hayden about that.”
She nodded. “He should run for mayor someday.”
“That’s what we’ve all said.” He looked at the dishes on the table. “I’ll help you clean up.”
Shaking her head, she stood. “That’s what dishwashers are for.”
“I wouldn’t know. Never had a dishwasher.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” He picked up his dishes anyway and walked to the kitchen.
She followed. “I’m serious, Rusty. I’ll get these. It’s bad form to make a guest clean up after the meal.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled as he said the words, keeping his gaze on hers.
When he didn’t look away, she frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” But he glanced away as he spoke.
“Oh. I just...”
He looked at her again. “Just what?”
“Well, you were kind of staring.”
His face—what she could see of it anyway—turned bright red. “Sorry ’bout that. I was just thinking how nice you look right now.”
He had to be joking. “With no makeup, sloppy sweats, and my thick-lensed glasses?”
“Yep. You don’t need makeup and fancy clothes to look pretty.”
She couldn’t help basking in his compliment, even though she had a tough time believing him. She remembered the last time Jack had seen her without makeup. He hadn’t even tried to hide his shock—and that was the last time she’d let anyone other than her best friends see her barefaced. Except for tonight. “You’re a nice guy, Rusty Jenkins.”
