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18
Anxiety seemed to accompany Will everywhere he went lately. He hadn’t gotten up to run this morning, and he told himself that was why.
It wasn’t because Gretchen sat in his passenger seat before seven a.m., telling him she was his.
For the day, he told himself.
She wasn’t his forever.
Yet, streamed through his mind, but he really wished it wouldn’t. He didn’t want to move too fast with her, and while they’d technically been dating for a little over six weeks, she’d had to hire the farm as her cream supplier to make sure she saw him.
Humiliation and guilt made a dangerous cocktail inside Will, and he shouldn’t have skipped running.
“Are we going?” Gretchen asked, and Will reached to put the truck in reverse.
“Yeah,” he said. “We’re going.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, so listen.”
“Nope,” she barked at him. “I don’t like it when you start sentences like that.” She grinned at him as she spoke, but Will didn’t think she was kidding that much. “You used ‘listen’ and ‘so.’ Both of those are off-limits.”
“Fine,” Will said. He would not clear his throat again. He wouldnot. “I just think maybe you have some high expectations for today, and maybe you should lower them.”
“Come on,” she said. “You’re not taking me to Disneyland?”
Will smiled, suddenly realizing that it didn’t matter what he’d planned for today. She was just glad to be with him. The concept felt foreign for another breath, and then it seeped into Will’s bones as fact.
He was glad to be with her, no matter what they did.
“Trav said The Bluebell Café has good breakfast,” he said. “I can’t imagine you’ve eaten yet.” He looked over to her, and she shook her head.
“So—I mean, I thought we’d start there,” he said, amending that pesky beginning word. “Then, I thought we could wander the Holy Cow boutique, because that seemed like something you’d like that you don’t get much time to do. Plus, there’s going to be a popcorn demonstration there this afternoon.”
He looked over to her, trying to drive and gauge her reaction to his plan at the same time. He didn’t care if they walked around town, as long as he got to hold her hand, talk to her, and kiss her.
That was all Will wanted. Time. He wanted moretimewith Gretchen, and he’d do whatever he had to do to get it. He’d spent a long time talking to Travis last weekend after Gretchen had stopped by the cabin on Saturday during his lunch hour and told him he’d have a new job every Monday morning—loading her cream for her.
He’d wanted to rage into the sky, but he’d held back. He hadn’t told her at all how inadequate and how guilty he felt that she’d felt like she’d had tohire his blasted farmjust to see him.
Travis had found a way to keep up with his work and make Shay a priority in his life. Will was struggling, but he was trying to do the same thing with Gretchen.
“That sounds fun,” Gretchen said. “You like popcorn.”
“I do,” he said. “They’re going to do the demo for different kinds. Caramel, putting on seasonings, taco-corn, that kind of thing.”
“Fascinating,” she said, and he found her grinning.
“Then,” he said, and he failed in his quest not to clear his throat again. “There’s this water circus I thought would be fun. It’s later in the day. Then dinner. Then I’ll take you home.”
In his mind, there was plenty of time for talking before the circus, and plenty of time for kissing after. Gretchen agreed, and Will relaxed in his seat.
“Okay,” he said. “The Bluebell Café, here we come.”
“Have you been there before?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “But Travis has, and he said it was good.”
“I like their food.” She reached over and took his hand in hers. “This is a good plan, Will.”
“It’s not that exciting,” he admitted.
