Page 9 of Finding Home

I’m nodding along, her voice smooth and rich. “I guess I hadn't really thought about it, but there is something beautiful in watching a building be brought back to life after something like that.”

Her hands pause, and I wince at how dumb that must have sounded.

“That’s a beautiful way of looking at it. I can be a bit glass half empty sometimes, so it’s always nice when someone comes along and challenges those negative thoughts. Thank you.”

“I became a contractor because I love breathing new life into old structures. I rarely do full new builds. Unfortunately, in this case, we have to demo the whole thing—the structure was too far gone. I did manage to save a few scraps of the original building and plan to see if our interior designer can work them in somewhere to preserve a piece of its history."

“I can’t wait to see it. There have been rumors flying around about what’s going in.” She leans over my shoulder, so close that her hair brushes against my ear, and I can smell the floral scent that clings to it. “Can you give me the inside scoop? I would love to beat Ms. Holloway to a piece of town gossip for once! She’s always strutting around, spilling all the tea. Just once, I want to see her face when I know something she doesn’t.”

A loud bark of laughter busts from my mouth, earning me an even bigger smile from Harper. It lights up her whole face, and I notice the tiniest dimples in her cheeks when she does. Willing to do just about anything to get a smile like that from her, I lean in conspiratorially. “Only because you just gave me a killer massage. The final contracts have been signed, and zoning approval came in just before the festival started, so this is hot off the press, Harper. It’s going to be a women's boutique.” Her face drops a little, huh, guess she isn’t a big clothes girl. “Then there will be a cafe, and a bookstore.” The spark returns and she pumps a fist in the air.

“Okay, okay, you’re speaking my love language, gimme all the books! Now, when you say cafe, do you mean coffee, pastries, and baked goods, or lunches and cute meals?”

“Hmm, cute meals? I don't know about that, but Gary, the owner of the buildings, did mention soups and sandwiches, so I’m thinking option two.”

“Whew! I would hate to have to boycott a new business, seeing as I’m a Toasted Bean loyalist. Which, if you haven’t stopped by, you have to. Bree, the owner, makes the best muffins and stuffed croissants, and she’s a coffee master. She’s the reason I had to take up running again.”

I twist in the chair and give her body a slow perusal. “Whatever you’re doing is working.” She blushes so prettily. I know our time is winding down, but I’m not ready to say goodbye.

“Well, don’t you two look so cute and cozy over here!” a voice interrupts us. Harper jumps, stepping away quickly enough to look all kinds of suspicious, and I’m finding there isn’t much this woman does that I don’t find charming. “You know, Harper, Ms. Gregory just set out her strawberry tarts. You should take your new friend over to get one before they sell out.”

Harper is shooting daggers at her, and in my mind, it’s official, her friend is an angel. “Strawberry tarts sound amazing.” I shoot a conspiratorial wink at Harper’s friend who does a little happy jig.

“As great as that sounds, Wren, it doesn’t seem fair to leave you at the booth alone. I should probably stay and help.” Harper bites her lower lip, working it with her front teeth, drawing my attention to her mouth. Her lips are full and utterly kissable.

“Oh, I don’t mind, plus, I do not want to be around you if you miss out on those tarts, Harper. You’ve been talking about them for weeks, and I’ve already seen you hangry once this month,” leaning toward me, she mock whispers, “and that was more than enough, like a rabid bear that girl.”

“You know what, Wren, tarts sound delicious. I’m gonna go get some now,” Harper says while smiling through gritted teeth, cheeks flaming and adorably rattled as she spins away. Before I follow, I glance at Wren and mouth thank you. It has been a hot minute since I met anyone that I was this desperate for more time with.

“She isn’t wrong. It would ruin my summer if I missed out on those tarts,” Harper tosses out as I jog to catch up. “Ms. Gregory only makes them for this festival. She claims it makes them more special. I say rubbish. In my opinion, it’s just her trying to make herself feel like a limited edition or something. But I will play her game because they really are that good.”

The line to the tart stand is already pretty long. Harper bounces on her feet, eyeing the crowd. “We should be good; she makes enough for the whole town.”

I nod my response, because I know if I open my mouth, I will start to laugh. Searching the crowd, I spot Blake, feeling only a little bad for ditching him. He sees us and begins making his way over with an easy smile on his face. “Ditching me for food, I see,” he calls.

“Yup! Harper, this is Blake, my foreman. Blake, this is Harper.” They shake hands before Blake starts looking around again.

“Is your friend around?” He continues to glance around. Harper grins, rolling her eyes at me.

“No, she’s actually manning our booth. You should go say hi. We’ll be closing up shop in an hour. Once the sun goes down, all the rides start, and less people will be milling around the booths.”

“Great, I’ll see if she needs help closing up.”

Harper leans in close as Blake makes his way through the crowd. “He will have to fight through the throngs of adoring Wren fans, but he’s cute, so he might just stand a chance at squiring her about tonight.”

Seeing an opening, I decide to show my hand and hope I don’t look like an idiot. “What about you? Any adoring fans or significant others going to be coming at me for treating you to a tart?”

She rolls her eyes at me, turning so we’re facing one another. “First, a tart? That implies I’m only eating one. I plan to stuff my face until my stomach hurts. Two, no significant others, and bravo for smoothly sliding that into the conversation.” The fact that she called me out like that takes me off guard in the best way. I’m a sucker for a girl with sass.

“So, how many tarts are we talking here?” We are next in line, and I intend to make sure I get to treat her.

“Hmmm, four to start, and two to take home.” Her eyes light up just as a gust of wind sweeps through the line, sending tendrils of hair across her face. This time, I do reach down and brush them back, taking my time tucking it behind her ear. The sharp intake of air from her goes straight to my core, knowing she’s just as affected as I am at this moment. We’re frozen, staring at each other when a sharp clearing of someone's throat draws our attention. The large woman behind the counter is staring down her nose at us.

“If you don’t mind, you’re holding up the line, Harper.” Her haughty tone has me instantly on edge. I step forward, ready to defend Harper, but am stopped by her hand on my arm, which the lady notices, and she narrows her eyes.

“My apologies, Jane.” Harper pats my arm maternally, flashing a winning smile at the woman. “You know I’m your number one fan, and looking at the selection, I’m betting these are your best tarts yet. I talked so much about them during the chair massage that he was begging to come and try one.”

Jane pauses, looking at Harper for a second as if gauging if she’s being serious. Satisfied with whatever she sees, Jane's features soften and her lips turn up into a pleased smile. “Oh, well, I don’t know about all that, but I do love that you enjoy them, dear. My Thomas is learning to make them himself. You know, to carry on the family tradition and share with his future family.” The last two words have a little bite and are aimed straight at me.