Page 151 of Falling Back to You

Macy snorted. “Her snobby, social-climbing ex was too preoccupied with his daddy’s money to see the good woman in front of him. I’ve seen dentures with better eyesight than him.” She arched a brow. “That gonna be the case with you?”

“No, ma’am. My vision is just fine.” Cal’s arm around my shoulder squeezed me closer. He smiled down at me. “And I fully intend to marry her, if she’ll have me.”

“I . . . what . . . you . . .” And the best speech award goes to . . . Pull yourself together!

Chuckling, Cal pulled me even closer against him. “I fully agree. We’ll revisit this after the festival, yeah?” With a final wink, he nodded to his truck, parked behind us. “I brought all of Mama’s pies. Are we still keeping them in the library?”

He expected me to be a fully functioning human after that declaration? Sir, you’ve been spending too much time at book club. Maybe I needed to go to book club. Blinking to orient myself in the real world, I nodded.

“Lead the way, Holiday.”

Whoever coined the adage “Many hands make light work” must have had Serenity Springs in mind because in less than an hour, everything was ready. When this town pulled together, it was a thing of legend. We were a well-oiled machine of community spirit.

Macy made a coffee run to Bean There, Done That under the guise of grabbing coffees and pastries for everyone, but really it was so she could meet her hero—Jerry—since The Vine updated that as his last known location. Yup, we had a thread for Jerry sightings.

Caffeinated and sugared up, we were ready for the day.

Crowds trickled into the park in the center of downtown just before nine, and after Mayor Gulliver’s speech, the festival began.

Despite all the possible mishaps I’d dreamed up and Cal had talked me out of, everything went off without a hitch. People seemed happy with my efforts, given the number of approving nods directed my way.

Mrs. Gulliver marched up to me, Jerry tucked under her toothpick-thin arms like a football. “You’re a good egg, Miss Shepherd. I had my doubts, but you did it. Even Jerry is impressed.” She thrust the feline towards me, eyebrow arched in expectation.

Having just acquired her tentative favour, I didn’t dare disappoint her now. So against my better judgment, I held out my hand out for Jerry to sniff, silently praying for him to not mistake me for a chew toy. Or for him to decide human was his meat of choice today.

Jerry sniffed my fingers. Once. Twice. His whiskers twitched, then his sandpapery tongue licked me.

I snatched my hand back in case that was just a sampling before he chomped down on my flesh.

Mrs. Gulliver beamed.

I stared.

Jerry. Had. Licked. Me.

The hater of mankind liked me? Okay, there must be something wrong with me. Being disliked was a badge of honour that meant you were a normal human being. If the little devil actually liked someone, you could bet your bottom dollar you were a problem. What if—?

Jerry hacked up a hair ball.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. I was still hated by the town mascot. As it should be. Balance was restored to the world.

“Mind if I steal my girlfriend?” Cal’s strong arm looped around my waist. “I have to man the kissing booth and need a partner.”

Mrs. Gulliver gasped in horror, hand to her chest, clutching her pearls. Yes, literal pearls. “Kissing booth? That sounds scandalous!”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Cal smirked. “Excuse us.”

“Cal!” I hissed, trying to hold back a laugh as he carefully dragged me away from the woman. “She’s going to think you’re a rogue.” And send her to an early grave if you keep insisting on PDA. Not that I was complaining—about the PDA, that was.

“Oh, I am, sweetheart, but not that kind.” He winked at me, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honour.”

He was never a Scout, and we both knew it. “So you aren’t stealing me away to make out?”

“Well, that was an excuse, but I’m game if you are.” He waggled his eyebrows.

I swatted his chest. “I have a potluck to run. And there is no kissing booth.”

“I know. I came to kiss you for good luck before these kids whoop my hide.”