Page 22 of View With Your Heart

“So, he’s not your man,” Gavin confirms with a gleam in his dark eyes.

“What man?” Henry interjects, and I turn on him.

“Don’t you have something to do in the back?” Henry helps prep things in the afternoons for the next morning when we bake the scones freshly every day. Henry stares at me and wondering at the directness of my tone before disappearing in the back. Jenna chuckles, giving me a knowing glance.

I’m onto you, sister, it says, and she’s not going to play along with me and my excuses. Not with Gavin, at least.

“We could meet for dinner beforehand.”

“Oh, the pub in town has the best burgers,” Jenna offers as if Gavin isn’t familiar with Traverse City.

“I’ll just meet you at the movie,” I say, not wanting to add more time to my momentary panic and weakness in decision-making.

“It’s a film,” Gavin corrects with a smile. “And I’ll see you there then.”

Deciding not to push me, he takes a sip of his tea. His brows lift once more. “This is good,” he states, and he doesn’t appear to be faking his approval. Gabe doesn’t even pretend to lift his cup for a drink.

“And one final thing. I remember everything about you.” His eyes roam my body for a second, giving away all he recalls. “Tonight.”

He tips his head to Jenna and exits. When the door closes on his back, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and collapse over the countertop.

Jenna fans her face next to me. “Damn girl, who was that sweet sip of tea?”

“He was once my summer love, but that was a long, long time ago.”

“Looks like he’d like to reignite your summer lovin’,” she teases.

“Not going to happen,” I mutter, straightening from my position and swiping a hair behind my ear. My hand rests at the side of my neck, feeling my pulse hammer.

What are you doing, Britton?

“There’s something familiar about him,” Jenna adds, concentrating on the front door. “Do I know him?”

Please don’t let her think too hard, I pray.

“He once played baseball for Oakland,” I offer, but Jenna doesn’t follow the particulars of sports. She nods as if that explains it and breaks into a rendition of “Summer Lovin’.” Thankfully, all discussion of recognition is lost.

+ + +

At six fifty-one, I find myself pacing within a newer movie theater, a second one designed specifically to accommodate the local film festival’s ever-growing popularity. There have been so many changes in the past decades to this city on the bay, a highlight of Michigan tourism.

I shouldn’t be here.

What am I doing here?

I should leave.

“Red licorice?” The deep masculine voice startles me, and I turn to face Gavin. He’s dressed casually once again in dark dress pants and another button-down rolled to the elbows. My breath catches at the sight of him. While Gabe called Gavin a movie star, and Gavin denied it, he’s of movie star quality in his appearance with the slick hair and perfectly trimmed scruff, not to mention those star-filled eyes.

“What are you doing out here?” His showing starts in a few minutes.

“Checking on the popcorn supply.” He smiles before pointing at complimentary bags on the counter. “And passing out licorice but only to select viewers.” He tips the package toward me.

“I can’t remember the last time I had Twizzlers,” I say, smiling slowly. Gavin wiggles the bag at me, but when I reach for a piece, he tugs it back.

“You promise you’ll share something with me this time?” My eyes widen at the memory of him offering me candy when we watched that first movie, and I never shared my popcorn with him. I shared everything else that summer instead.

“I don’t think I should accept candy from a stranger after all,” I say, reminding him of my lines—sort of.