“I should probably talk to Lila Irwin and Mayor Martinez.” I point at Graham and Lucy. “We’ll need to talk about some of my ideas, too.”
“And then?” Nathan’s grin is wider than the river.
“Then…I need to see the woman I’m crazy about.”
35
rose
The afghan completely clashes withthe black couch. Pastel colors fading into each other like melted popsicles, with chunky tassels decorating each end. It doesn’t go at all. But it’s made out of super-soft yarn, so it’s light-years better than the last blanket that was out here.
Stormy agrees. He’s been making biscuits on it for ten minutes.
“That’s good stuff. Right buddy?” I lightly run my hand over his back, reveling in his soft fur. I wish I could scoop him up and cuddle him to my chest like a baby, but he might never get to that point. For now, I soak up all the love he offers me, reminding myself to be patient.
It’s a struggle, for a variety of reasons.
My stomach churns, excitement and nervousness duking it out in there. Reed texted asking to come over, and I’ve tried to stay calm since. The nonsense in my stomach proves I’m failing pretty terribly at that.
“It’s totally fine,” I tell the cat digging his claws into the blanket I crocheted years ago. He’s way past due for a nail trim, but a personal space violation like that would send him back tohiding under my bed. “Whatever he decides about the coffee shop, I’ll be fine.”
Softer, I add, “Whatever he decides about me, I’ll be fine, too.”
The doorbell rings, and I’m across the room in a flash. I pull the door open to reveal Reed, looking way too handsome in a gray Yosemite T-shirt and shorts. Seeing his warm smile is like listening to my favorite song. I know it by heart, but it never gets old.
“Hi.” I wave him in, but he stops just over the threshold, handing me a box from Blackbird’s.
“Strawberry cupcakes this time,” he says. “And a couple of other flavors I thought you’d like.”
The frosting’s sugary scent drifts up to me. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”
“No. I wanted to.” His straightforward explanation makes my stomach swoop.
I close the door behind him and take the cupcakes into the kitchen. He waits for me in the living room, standing by the couch. The dessert box wasn’t the only thing he brought with him. He’s got a folded paper in one hand, tapping it against his thigh.
Is Reed nervous? That can’t be a good sign.
I join him, facing off on the bare hardwood floor. “What’s that?” I gesture at the paper he’s fidgeting with. “Did you decide what you want to do about the offer?”
“Yes.” He takes a step forward but stops himself as if there’s an invisible barrier between us. “I decided what I want to do about a lot of things.”
He doesn’tsoundominous, but nerves do another lap in my stomach just to show off.
“Okay. Can I say something first, though?”
He blinks, not expecting that. “Sure. Of course.”
“I’ve been thinking about what I want, too.” I take a deep breath and straighten my spine, channeling the brave woman I want to be. She’s a little over-the-top, but I love her anyway. “I want you to be happy, Reed. If that’s selling and finding yourhappiness somewhere else, then that’s what I want, too. But if you sell, and we never work together again, I don’t want to lose you. I love the coffee shop, but I don’t love it as much as I love…”
Yeah. Going for the “Doing Too Much” gold, there.
Reed crosses the space between us, tossing the paper onto the couch. He takes my face in both his hands, his gaze intense as he stares down at me. “Not as much as what?”
The thumping in my heart can’t be healthy. Staring into his eyes until I get dizzy from it probably isn’t either. I don’t know how I fumbled my way into a love confession, but he doesn’t look like he thinks it’s a red flag. It’s the greenest of flags, and he’s just waiting for me to get brave enough to wave it.
“You,” I whisper.
His glorious smile might as well come with sparkles dancing around it like a Disney prince. It crinkles his eyes and reveals laugh lines above his beard. He nods and leans in close. “I loveyou.”
