“Damn straight,” Brooklyn murmurs. “Your sweet tooth is part of your charm, love.”
The cookie party is over, and most of the townsfolk left a while ago. The four of us sit at a table together, munching on leftover cookies and drinking red wine, a couple of empty bottles as evidence on the table around us.
Ronin pours wine into his glass and I hold out my own. He tops it off, a small smile flickering across his face.
“It’s nice William gave you the night off,” I say to him. “Or, maybe you gave yourself the night off. Who is actually in charge here, anyway?”
“It’s more like a partnership at the moment,” Ronin answers. “We split the responsibilities pretty evenly these days. But I do make the schedule, which has its perks.”
He winks at me, sending butterflies shooting from my stomach straight down to somewhere lower. I shift in my seat. The wine must be going to my head because hearing Ronin say the wordperksis doing something funny to my insides.
Bree suddenly yawns, stretching her arms up over her head. “Well, kids, I think I’m ready to call it a night. I’m wiped.” She grabs Brooklyn’s hand. “You ready to go, babe?”
Her attempt at subtlety to give me and Ronin some privacy is pathetic, and I stifle a laugh behind my hand with a cough.
“Sure thing,” Brooklyn replies, standing up and gathering their cookie tins from the table.
I give them both hugs, waving as they exit the diner before Isit back down. Just me and Ronin now. Great. Not awkward at all.
“So, what do you think about Grandma’s proposal?” Ronin eyes me over his wine glass as he takes a sip, leaning back in his chair with an arm resting on the back of the empty one next to him.
“It surprised me, but I’m definitely considering it,” I reply carefully. “My parents are all for it, of course. I’d have to move back in with them though, at least until I can find a place of my own.” I peek at Ronin to gauge his reaction and catch his smile before he tries to hide it, taking another sip of his wine.
“I suppose it wouldn’t suck to have you around again, Mel.” He sets his glass down on the table, snatches one of my cookies from my plate, and takes a bite. His eyes remain on mine the whole time.
I try to play it off with, “Well, with that glowing endorsement, how can I say no?” My insides are on fire from the intensity of his stare. “What about you? You don’t want to run your grandparent’s shop?”
He finishes off the cookie and leans forward, elbows resting on the table as he circles the rim of his glass with a finger. “At one point, I could see myself taking over when they retire, yeah.” His serious focus on the wine in his glass flashes to me, and my pulse skips. “But things have changed a lot since you’ve been gone, Mel.”
I can’t argue with that, and Ronin doesn’t owe me any explanations into his life anymore. I lost that privilege years ago.
I pick up my glass and sit back, surveying the diner. There are a few stragglers hanging around besides the two of us and William is behind the bar chatting up Sal, the lone figure seated there.
“So I’ve been wondering all night, who actually decorated this place?” I sip my drink, looking back at Ronin.
“I did.”
His answer surprises me, and I swallow down the wine a bit too fast. “Youdid?” I ask througha small cough.
“Yes, I did.” He laughs. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I didn’t know you had such a flair for snowflakes and confetti, Ronin Kane. You’re just full of surprises these days.” I laugh into my wine as I take another sip. “In all seriousness though, this place looked amazing tonight. One of the best cookie parties I can remember.”
Ronin smiles before saying softly, “Thanks, Mel.”
We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, each of us sipping our wine. My mind wanders, picturing myself working at The Reading Nook, maybe having time to write for myself, finding a cute apartment or a house downtown. More nights like this, reforging relationships that I thought had long gone cold.
At one point, I fought so hard against making Blue Fields my home, but for once, the idea of returning doesn’t fill me with apprehension or fear. It fills me with hope.
Ironic, isn’t it?
Ronin must see something in my expression, because he sets down his drink and crosses his arms.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Mel?” He tilts his head curiously. “I can practically hear your mind spinning right now.”
I laugh quietly. Nothing gets past this man.
“I’m just thinking about the reality of moving back. How I used to feel like I was too big for this place, but now…” My words trail off.
