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Chapter Thirty-Three
Jackson
As I pulled Lena along, I kept thinking about the kiss. It had been a stupid thing to do, but she looked so inviting with that gorgeous smile and all that confetti floating around us. I guess I got caught up in the excitement. I had nothing to say afterward, which was also stupid. I could have at least said I was sorry, but then that would have been a lie. At least I’d managed not to make it too much like a romantic kiss, which is what I’d wanted to do. For the brief moment that my lips touched hers, I did get a sense of how soft they were, and the whole small yet so large moment overwhelmed me. I wanted more.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Not any time soon, I guessed, from the way she reacted, which was more like she didn’t react—a total and complete blow to my ego. I held on tightly to her hand as we made our way through the crowd, wondering what she’d been thinking. She kept looking behind her. “What’s wrong?” I stopped walking because I thought maybe I was pulling her too fast.
“Nothing. I thought I heard … nothing. It’s nothing.” She shook her head. “Let’s go.”
The crowd cleared the closer we got to the alley where we’d left the car, and we slowed down to a leisurely pace. I realized I should let go of her hand. I didn’t want to, but I did.
Neither one of us said anything when we got back into the car. I worried that I’d blown it. I should have known she wasn’t ready.
After a couple of minutes of excruciating silence, Lena said,” That was fun.”
I looked over, and she was smiling. “Yeah, it was. I’d forgotten that today was Founder’s Day. This town usually has some sort of recognition, but the parade is new this year, and I’m sure that the “Holy Grail” had something to do with it. Oh, here’s the store.”
We pulled into the parking lot of Staples. Not the Staples with all the office supplies, but the little family-owned grocery store named after old man Staples, one of the town’s founding fathers. It was the only grocery store in Turtle Lake. “There is a brand new Railey’s that popped up last year in Fall River Valley, which is only a couple of miles away. They tried to build here in Turtle Lake,” I explained, “but the town’s residents fought hard to keep it out, so they settled for the next town over. I like to shop here, though; we need to support our local businesses if we want to keep our small town alive.”
I pushed the cart and followed Lena down the aisles as she grabbed some apples and broccoli and mushrooms. She picked up a basket of strawberries and glanced at the price sign, then put them back on the shelf. She did this with a few other items, and after about ten minutes, I realized there weren’t many groceries in the cart. I figured she didn’t have much money, and I wanted to pay for these groceries, but I didn’t think she’d let me.
We left the produce department and headed toward the meats. She stood over the chicken, studying it, picking up several different containers, placing them back before settling on one.
“Hmmm … what’s for dinner?” I asked.
“Chicken Marsala, I think.”
“You know how to make that?”
She nodded. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah. I guess. I’ve never had it.”
“Well, I make a pretty tasty Marsala. I’m sure I can make enough for you and Brodie to have some tonight.”
“Wow. That would be awesome.”
We headed to the wines, and she picked up a bottle of Marsala. She held it in her hand, biting on her bottom lip, and stuck it in the cart. Good thing it only cost five ninety-nine, or she probably would have put it back. But then, I would have offered to pay for it if she had.
We headed home and the drive was much less stressful without the parade going on. “Do you mind if we stop at the bar before going home?”
“Not at all.”
“I want to pick up a bottle of wine to go with that chicken. What time’s dinner? I’ll let Brodie know.”
“Um … I’ll bring it down around seven. Is that okay?”
“Oh, sorry. I thought you’d make it downstairs, and we could all have dinner together.”
“Oh.” She frowned and chewed her lip again, and I knew I was pushing it. And then I wanted to jump and shout hooray when she said, “Okay,” but I refrained.
“Good. I’ll be right back.” I left her there in the car with the motor running in case I needed a good excuse to leave right away. I grabbed a bottle of Zin and then grabbed another. We didn’t have any wine at home, and if Brodie was joining us, I figured we’d need it.
“What’s with the wine?” Brodie said as I placed the two bottles in a bag I found under the counter.
“Lena is going to cook tonight. You’re invited.” I grinned at him like a silly kid about to go to a friend’s birthday party.
“I have a date, but thanks.”
“Who’s got the bar?”
“Derrick.”
“Okay. Where are you going?” I wasn’t all that curious about Brodie’s date, but since he wasn’t going to join us for dinner, I wanted to know how much alone time I’d have with Lena tonight.
“Really? Do you really want to know? You’re only asking so you’ll know what time I’ll be home.” He shook his head, and I knew he had me pegged. There was no way he was going to tell me.
I headed out to the car, keeping both bottles of wine anyway. I wasn’t sure if I should mention to Lena that Brodie wasn’t joining us, but then I didn’t want to deceive her that way. “Brodie has a date and won’t be joining us for dinner,” I blurted out, unable to hide the silly grin on my face.
