Page 13 of Wait For Me

Espadrilles. That’s what those shoes are called. I only know because of the fashion photographer I dated last year. I learned much more about shoes than I ever wanted to over the six-week span of that relationship—the longest in years.

Of course I don’t say any of this, settling on “You look nice.”

She looks like sunshine, is what she looks like. A ray of light come down to earth, bottled in a beautiful girl.

Cora smiles again, sending a rush of warmth on that sunbeam straight through my chest.

“I probably should have worn something more practical,” she says as we start walking. “But I did an extra shift at Rivergreen today and didn’t have time to go home.”

“You have a second job?” A slip of relief runs through me at that, making me realize part of the tenseness in my shoulders has been worry that I’m going to get her fired.

“Oh no. I go there for fun.”

So much for that. Then I pause. “Wait, still?”

She laughs. “I’m their longest standing volunteer. I got a badge for it and everything.”

“A badge!” I raise an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“You ever think about getting a job there?”

She shakes her head decisively. “Nope. It’s strictly for fun.”

I smile. Other people talk about visiting their grandparents like it’s a chore.

The scent of her shampoo wafts toward me on the breeze. It smells like flowers. Bright, sunny, happy flowers. Just like her. My chest seizes once more. “So how did you end up working here?” I ask, as if that will squash the feeling. “I thought you wanted to be a wedding organizer?”

Cora glances up, meeting my eye.

“Wedding planner,” she says, with a smile. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

She’s only a couple inches shorter than me. The perfect height to kiss.

Fucking stop it!

“You were always into that stuff,” I say stiffly.

She nods, eyes forward again. “I did it, for a while. I took the program at Greenville College and joined a boutique company in Greenville. I only lasted a couple years though.”

“Why?”

“It wasn’t quite what I thought it would be. It’s not enough to love weddings; you have to love doing all the other stuff that goes with it. And you have to deal with people who think a wedding is more important than the actual marriage. It kind of took the fun out of love, honestly.”

A pink blush darkens her cheeks. “I don’t know if that makes sense to you?—”

I have to resist the urge to run my knuckles across her cheek. This is bad. Not what I was supposed to be doing back in town.

I shove my hands in my pockets. “It makes perfect sense.”

“I decided I would get a job that was unrelated to what I love. I know my job isn’t important like yours is. But my job doesn’t define me, either.”

“Do you like it?”

“Except for how the hotel is going downhill, I enjoy it. It’s hard work but I love making the rooms beautiful for guests.”

“So are you the one who left the rosemary on the pillow?”

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