Page 174 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

She laughed with people, insulted others, carried three glasses in one hand, and somehow noticed when my drink was almost empty from twenty feet away.

A fresh one appeared.

“What is this?”

“Apple cider, ginger beer, cinnamon.”

“No alcohol?”

“You said you had to drive.”

I took a sip, surprised it was annoyingly good.

Rosie leaned against the counter with a grin for approximately three seconds before someone called her name. Watching her made me realize how little I knew about Rosie beyond the version of her that ran town meetings and terrorized festival volunteers.

She was good at this.

Really good.

An hour later, the crowd finally thinned. Rosie dropped onto the stool beside mine with a groan. “My feet are going to fall off.” She glanced around before focusing on me. “So what’s going on with Beau?”

“What?” I asked stupidly, even though I knew she’d witnessed our date.

“You like him.”

“I’ve never said I didn’t.”

“You didn’t have to.” She stole one of my pretzels. “You used to look at Beau like you were deciding whether murdering him would be worth the paperwork.”

“He was pretty irritating…”

“Was?”

“Still is.”

“But now you want to see him naked.” She winked. I nearly inhaled my drink at her blunt response.

“Rosie,” I warned.

“What? We’re adults here, aren’t we?” She grinned like the cheshire cat from Alice in a Wonder Land.

I wiped my mouth. “You’re worse than Meme.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

She shrugged. A comfortable silence settled between us. Someone changed the song playing through the speakers. Rosie tapped her fingers against the bar. Then she looked at me. “You know, I used to be jealous of you.”

That was so unexpected I laughed. “Of me?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

Rosie looked toward the bottles behind the bar. “Because you knew.” Her voice had gotten quiet.

My brows furrowed. “Knew what?”