Being that my birthday was May fourth, and we were all Star Wars fans, the guys had dubbed me Jedi when we were kids.
Haider snorted and snuggled into my side.
“Don’t worry, my little Jedi,” he said, looking up at me with a flirty grin and fluttering eyelashes. The balloons tied to his wrist bumped against my head, making my hair static-y. “I’ll box up some fresh truffles for you to eat your sorrows away with.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Haider knew the way to my heart.
“I don’t have any sorrows,” I said, ruffling his dark, curly locks. “But I would never turn down your truffles.”
Haider and his grandmother Mamie owned and operated Harmony Chocolates, and his gourmet truffles were my most favorite treat on the planet.
It was good to see Haider laughing and joking, even though he still looked tired. He’d lost it earlier today on my birthday walk. He’d planned a whole Star Wars theme to celebrate, and while we were battling lightsabers—me as Luke Skywalker and him as Darth Vader—he went full on rage monkey, jabbing at me. Sam and Ryan had to step in and wrestle the saber from him.
But he was in much better spirits tonight, which was good. Otherwise, I’d have to have atalkwith Phillip.
Sam and Ben returned, their faces flushed from dancing and smiles big. They reached for their beers at the same time and chugged a few gulps before sitting down.
Sam wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt as his gaze drifted over the three of us.
“What did we miss?”
Haider giggled, Ryan grinned, and I sighed. One of those big, loud, put-upon kinds of sighs.
“Conor’s jealous,” Haider teased.
“Again, with this . . .” I dragged a hand down my face. “I amnotjealous.”
Maybe a little envious of Sam and Ben’s relationship, though.
Sam, either taking pity on me or being intuitive enough to clue in, which was most likely the case because he was one smart dude, changed the subject.
“So, are you all ready for the fair next weekend?” he asked.
Except for that subject.
“Ugh,” I wasn’t ready for any of it.
“I have all my roses carved,” Ryan offered. The light catching in his brown eyes made them glitter like he had a secret. “Just a few more bowls to make.”
He was a woodworker, but I’d call him an artist. I didn’t know how he did it, but he could take the gnarliest piece of wood and whittle it down to a beautiful work of art.
The guys carried on sharing their plans. Each had a booth for the Founders Day Fair—Ryan with his woodworking, Sam with his family’s maple syrup, Haider’s chocolates, and even Ben was taking part in the library book sale.
I didn’t have a small business like all my friends did, but I’d be working a booth for the Caldwell Crossing Fire Department, where I’d worked since graduating high school and then fire school. Along with educating people on fire safety and doingdemonstrations, I’d be overseeing fire safety checks for the live performances throughout the afternoon. Six bands were lined up to play, one of which had become the bane of my existence. The fair would end with a bachelor auction for a local charity, which Mamie had volunteered me for. Can’t say I was much looking forward to that.
“Are you excited to meet Dallas Blade in person, Con?” Ryan leaned forward, drawing me back into the conversation. His purple-and-gray plaid shirt strained over his muscular biceps and shoulders.
“Not even a little,” I said with a huff.
“But he’s so hot,” Haider swooned and fanned himself.
“So hot,” Ben agreed, earning a side eye from Sam. Ben planted a kiss on his cheek and to Sam, added, “Not as hot as you, though.”
Sam smiled at him with googly eyes. He was so gone.
“And you’ve had a crush on him since we were kids,” Ryan added with a wave of his beer mug in my direction.
Sam frowned at me. “How did I not know that?”