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A little boy tears between us, chasing his sister with a wand bursting with bubbles and lights. Without thinking, I reach for Phoenix’s hand before she can be knocked sideways.

“There,” I say, trying to sound casual as I steady us. “Safety precaution.”

She looks down at our hands. “You know I’m in a walking boot, fairly stable at this point.”

“I know,” I say, not releasing my grip.

“You could let go.” She squeezes our joined hands, not moving either.

“I could.” I don’t.

She doesn’t pull away either as we continue through the crowd like we’ve been doing this for years.

As I attempt to pull her toward the kettle corn booth, someone shouts toward us.

Phoenix angles us toward the opposite side of the street, avoiding Mrs. Reynolds, attempting to not be seen.

“Jackson!”

Too late.

Mrs. Reynolds appears from behind her dessert, eyes gleaming, seeing an easy mark.

“We’re raising money for the library expansion. Think about all those children who need more educational materials.”

I peruse the table of goods and see that every dessert has an aggressively suggestive name. Between the Sheets Brownies. One Night Stand Cheesecake Cups. Second Chance Cinnamon Rolls.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Mrs. Reynolds …”

“What?” She adopts an innocent expression. “Sex sells.”

“It’s a library fundraiser. For the children.”

“Exactly. I’m willing to do what it takes for them.”

Phoenix is openly laughing now. Mrs. Reynolds leans toward me.

“So …”

Heat creeps up my neck. “I’ll take two cinnamon rolls.”

“Excellent choice.”

She glances meaningfully at our joined hands, which I’ve done everything to keep together, as she waggles her eyebrows. “The brownies are for when you’re further along.”

“Mrs. Reynolds!” I admonish, having a knowledge of what she is referring to with my extensive book club background.

“What? I’m invested now.”

Phoenix nearly chokes, trying not to laugh. Worth every penny. She hands us the cinnamon rolls with an exaggerated wink.

My attention catches on a small boy with dark curls standing nearby. He can’t be more than eight and he’s looking around, his upper lip beginning to tremble.

“Liam!” Phoenix shouts as she moves as fast as her hobbled leg can take her and kneels in front of the boy.

“Miss Lane! I can’t find my mommy.” His voice is shaky as he launches himself into her arms.