Page 80 of Where You Left Me

“Who the hell said anything about guilting? Jones, if she loves you, she’ll stay. And if you love her, you’ll ask her to.”

I shake my head as my brain vibrates with overstimulation. Too many decisions. Too many questions. Too many fucking emotions.

“What if she says no?” I mumble.

Maverick twists his lips and hunches one shoulder before he finally says, “Then at least you can say you tried.”

Despite my millionsof reminders on how crucial it is for Rosie to not be late, she rolls up to the park in the center of town thirty minutes after set up time. The rest of the vendors are almost done setting up. Now the rest of them will have to rally together to help her. I can’t help but wonder if this was her plan all along.

“You’re late,” I grumble after she hops out of the Brew Box’s van.

“Fashionably, as always though,” she says, happily.

“Just hurry the hell up. People are already whining about coffee.”

“People, or you, Jonesy?”

“Just make the damn coffee, woman,” I mutter.

Nico climbs out of the passenger side of the van and my anxious nerves lessen. He gives me a head nod and doesn’t waste any time unloading their gear. Thank God for Nico. He’s definitely the better half of those two. I don’t care how good of a lover he says she is. He’s the saint in my eyes.

After a quick survey of the park, excitement thrums in my chest. Seeing all the local vendors setting up and the first aid and hydration teams prepping to hit the trail with their gear, a sense of pride washes over me. There’s something about finally witnessing all your hard work pay off.

Some of the participants are already at the registration booth. Bikes are visible in every direction. Kids run around. The gazebo in the park has been decorated in memory of past Bikes and Beers participants. This is new this year. It was Mia’s idea.

It draws me in, and I walk toward it until I can see more clearly. But when I spot photos of people I recognize, I stop dead in my tracks. Gigi, my mom. My eyes water for the second time today.

Suddenly, gentle, loving arms wrap me up from behind. I drink in Mia’s delicious scent. My hands cover hers while she clutches them to my chest.

“Do you like it?” she whispers.

“Nah.”

She releases me a little and I pull her back and chuckle.

“I love it.”

“You sure it isn’t too cheesy for a fun event like Bikes and Beers?”

“No way. Gigi was a town favorite. She loved a good beer. And never missed an event. My mom neither. She’s the one who taught me how to ride a bike, ya know?”

“I remember,” she says, her voice soft.

I turn in her arms to face her. “It’s really sweet. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I kiss her hard and long and for a moment I fantasize about skipping the event and taking her up to my apartment. Where there would be no distractions or no one to interrupt us because the entire town is here.

But she pulls back and says, “Hey, where’s my dad?”

As if on cue, Mr. C. comes rolling up on his makeshift bike. His smile is the first thing I see. The next is Mia’s. Her entire face is beaming at the sight of her dad on a bike.

The part I built attached to his wheelchair perfectly. It won’t go fast, but he wasn’t planning on participating in the ride, heonly wanted to keep some of his dignity. And by the way he sits upright and proud behind the handlebars, I’d say it worked. A feeling of fulfillment blooms in my chest.

Mia swipes at a tear. “This is what you were working on last night?”

I shrug and push away a sheepish grin. “He wanted to ride. I had no choice.”

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