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She’d been going for foe, but oddly enough friend worked too.
Jada laughed fondly, “I see. From friends to foe and back again. What a great love story.”
Whiskey’s brows rose. “Interesting insight.”
Genevieve noticed he didn’t argue the point.
“It comes with the territory. Before I was the editor-in-chief I worked the romance advice column. It’s a gift. I can spot a budding romance from a hundred miles away.” Jada tapped her copy of the newspaper. “Quite literally, I might add.”
Genevieve dipped her head to hide the sudden flush of heat across her cheeks.
“Anyway, we’ll talk over the details a little later. I’m staying out at the Pinegrove Dreams. I met the spunkiest old lady and we hit it off spectacularly. Mrs. Conrad is making spaghetti and offering chocolate ice cream as a runner-up for the evening then she has promised to show me around the town. I suspect after I get done making my way through all the shops, a nice homecooked meal will be lovely.”
“You’ll not want to leave.” Not if Gran Conrad had anything to do with it, for sure.
“Dear, I already feel this won’t be my last time here. Catch you later. Tata!”
Whiskey stepped into the spot Jada vacated and resumed his position and leaned an elbow on the counter. At one point he’d shed his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up. An often occurrence it seemed. He looked more relaxed and the lines of tension that fanned the edges of his eyes didn’t look as pronounced. She could be reading it wrong, but it looked like he enjoyed the day as much as she had and it wasn’t over yet.
“Genevieve,” he cut into her thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“I should have known you’d pull a few magic tricks out of your hat.”
She plucked a cookie from one of the several platters her mom placed throughout the shop. Stress eating was really working against her no carbs diet. At this rate, she’d be wearing a shower curtain for bathing suit season. She sighed around another bite. “You told me to find a way so I did.”
He smiled but the gesture stopped short of reaching his eyes. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I mean it’s great that these people are here enjoying all this beautiful building has to offer, but that doesn’t change the fact that we still have to talk and convince the board members. And this building needs major work that will cost. I just don’t want you to get hurt is all. I can’t make promises.”
She canted her head to the side. “What would you say if I have an answer for that too?”
He leveled a curious look on her.
“Hold that thought.” She snagged a cupcake from the counter; her hips would be the size New York if she didn’t watch it, but the blueberry topping was irresistible and she needed something to keep her hands busy and mind focused unless she wanted to jump Whiskey, wrap her legs around him and give the whole town a show they’d never forget.
Though she didn’t know how a cupcake stood up against a daydream like that, honestly. Maybe Whiskey could dream up a way to give her a little work out after they smoothed out all the kinks of her plan.
She considered her next words carefully as she took his hand and led them out the back door and around the side of thebuilding. Crossing the street, she pointed them down a small path that hugged the lake’s shore.
“I have an idea,” she started as the noise of the crowd died out.
Beside her, he narrowed his gaze on her as he held a low-hanging branch for her to pass. “I’m listening.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Okay, you’re going to think this is a crazy idea, but hear me out.”
“No idea is too crazy. But if it makes you feel better you should hear half the ideas that cross my desk on a daily basis. Some of them will make you laugh, others cringe and sometimes you outright want to bang your head on the desk out of sheer frustration.”
“Wow. I hope none of that applies here. The nearest thing to a desk we have out here is a tree, and I don’t know about you, but having bark imprints on my forehead wouldn’t be the highlight of my day.”
He laughed, warm and low that made an odd sense of peace settle over her.
“Touché. So, what’s your idea, sweetheart? After what you pulled today, I can’t wait to hear what else that brain has cooked up.”
Late afternoon faded to early evening as they strolled along the shore of Pinegrove Lake. Bursts of pinks and oranges spilled across the sky to mix into a deep purple at the fringes of thehorizon. Between the branches tiny chickadees and sparrows swooped back and forth chirping to one another.
“What did you mean by ‘my girl’ back at the shop?”
