“I’m not going to tell anybody, Gwen.”
“Okay, so we agree.” She looked relieved. “It’s not going to happen again, and we’re not going to tell anybody. This never happened.”
“Whoa.” He held up one hand. “I didn’t agree to all that. I said I wouldn’t tell anybody. But I did kiss you. That definitely happened. And I’m going to kiss you again. It’s pretty inevitable.”
“Nothing’s inevitable,” she told him, but her gaze dropped to his mouth again before she turned and practically ran for the stairs, and he smiled.
Oh, it was inevitable, alright. He and Gwen weren’t finished with the kissing yet. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Six
Don’t miss the coupons from the Perkin’ Up Café in this week’s print issue! You can save money on fancy caffeinated beverages and breakfast foods, and they asked us to remind everybody you can also get a plain coffee and breakfast sandwich if that’s what you’re in the mood for. If you don’t know the difference between a latte and a cappuccino, stop by the Perkin’ Up Café! (And then message us because we don’t know, either.)
—Stonefield GazetteFacebook Page
Saturday was the first day that Gwen opened her manuscript to find the words ready to flow, so of course Evie had to send a group text calling for a meeting after the thrift store closed at three o’clock. That would have been easy enough to bounce back from, as far as focus went, but it triggered an avalanche of text messages about everything from the topic of the meeting to the color the walls should be to how much a person would reasonably expect to pay for a plate of nachos.
Even those would have been easy to ignore until she was done with the writing for the day, but Case was a part of those conversations and seeing his name pop up on her phone gave her such a jolt of pleasure, she couldn’t bring herself to set the phone to Do Not Disturb.
All she’d done since their kiss yesterday was think about kissing him again. If sheshoulddo it (no), and if shewantedto do it (yes) and when it could happen again (hopefully as soon as possible). Losing herself in her current story helped quiet that particular turmoil, which might be why she was finally getting some writing done, but every time she saw his name, the cycle started again.
She shouldn’t have kissed him.
She shouldn’t kiss him again.
Shewantedto kiss him again and again and again.
While she’d never admit it, there had been a lot of pressure on that kiss because she’d been dreaming about Case kissing her for most of her life. She’d had a few actual relationships, of course. One that she even considered serious, though it had gone up in flames when he claimed she should have time to pick up his suit for a wedding they were attending because she did nothing but sit at a computer all day.
But when she closed her eyes and fantasized, it was always Case. And the man had not disappointed. The kiss they’d shared yesterday had been a long time coming, and totally worth the wait. Just remembering how his mouth had felt on hers and his hands on her body sent a frisson of desire down her spine, and she had to resist an urge to squirm in her chair.
She forced herself to reread the last few sentences she’d typed and then forced herself to focus enough to write a few more. And then she kept going.
By the time Eli pounded on her door and shouted that Aunt Evie wanted her to go downstairs, she’d written more over the course of the day than she had in the last month. Maybe mooning over her lifelong crush was good for the muse, she thought as she saved her work and closed the laptop. Or maybe it was being back in her old rocking chair. Either way, she was feeling good as she went down to join the others around the kitchen table. It probably would have made more sense to hold the meetings at the dining room table, but then they’d have no place to do puzzles.
She’d barely gotten through the kitchen door before her mom zeroed in on her. “I had four different people ask me today if I’m making sure you have a Sharpie, Gwen. What is that about?”
“I have no idea,” she responded, frowning. She sat in the open chair, which happened to be across from Case. On the one hand, it was going to be hard not to spend the entire meeting looking at him. But on the other hand, she’d probably do it anyway, and this way she could look at him without getting a crick in her neck.
“I guess neither of you follows theStonefield Gazetteon Facebook,” Mallory said with a chuckle.
“I certainly don’t,” Gwen said.
When her sister explained that the library was hoping to get some signed donations ofA Quaking of Aspensfor their Old Home Day book sale because they’d charge more for them, Gwen groaned. The entire town talking about her book again was the last thing she needed.
“They’re raising money for the summer reading program, which your nephews do every year,” Mal continued, “so I hope you’ll be a good sport about it.”
“Of course I will. I’m a good sport about signing books even if it doesn’t benefit my nephews because I’m a professional. And I love libraries. Especially this one, and I always have.” She’d spent a good amount of her childhood wandering the stacks, filling her tote with books to read and reread.
“I hate to draw attention away from Gwen’s career,” Evie said dryly, earning a sour look from Gwen. “But we really need to focus right now. If we finalize a name, I can still get some stuff printed in time for Old Home Day next weekend, even if it’s just flyers printed off the computer. Just to get people excited.”
They all turned to Lane, who looked a little uncomfortable with everybody suddenly staring at him. “The company name is Sutton-Thompson LLC, as you know. But we’d been talking about Sutton’s Place for the brewery name. And the bar of course.”
Nobody reacted right away. Gwen leaned back in her chair, running the name around in her head and trying to get a feel for how she liked it. She assumed everybody else was doing the same.
“Sutton’s Place,” Ellen said quietly, and her expression didn’t offer any clues as to her reaction to it.
“When a property’s been called something for years, it kind of sticks,” Lane continued. “Heading to Sutton’s place. Take a right after Sutton’s place. Did you see the new stone wall at Sutton’s place? It’s what the house—and the carriage house—have been called for years. We were still kids when it went from being the old inn to being Sutton’s Place.”
