Page 81 of Lovewell Lane

Tessa furrowed her brow at that and leaned closer. “My Mom didn’t like it here, so she left.”

“Oh,” I said. I looked around to see if Derek was back from his work call. He’d had a lot of those lately, and I could see on his face that he was exhausted from all of the extra work of preparing for the Honey Festival. I didn’t have to do much to prepare for my baked goods stand, but Weston Farms supplied all of the stalls and structural framework for the Festival. It was a lot to put together.

“And Daddy’s Mom died,” Tessa added solemnly.

“Yes, that’s very sad,” I said. Not quite sure what to say.

“Sienna’s Mom is very nice, though. She lets us watch cartoons and we can have as much juice as we want.”

“Lila is very nice,” I agreed. “I think Moms come in all different forms. Sometimes they’re silly and fun, others are serious and mean. It just depends on the Mom.”

Tessa nodded again. Her little hand moved to rest on my knee. “I wish you were my Mom. You make being a grown up look like fun. You wear braids and colorful dresses. I want to be like that when I grow up.”

My eyes widened as I stared straight forward. Trying to think of a response before Tessa looked at me and saw the shock on my face. “That’s really kind, Tessa. I love spending time with you, too.”

Derek slid open the glass door and walked back inside, right on cue.

He saw my face first. “Everything okay?”

I nodded. “Just talking about my Mom.”

“Ah,” he said. That must have explained it enough because he walked in to sit next to us on the couch and quickly changed the subject.

I had spent all day entertaining my mother. I woke her up early in the morning to open the diner with me. She quickly got bored of that by the time breakfast was over, so I took a few hours off at lunch to walk her around town. She was disappointed at how little there was to see, so I pawned her off on Slick when he walked into Lucky’s that afternoon. He seemed pleased to have some company, and my mom was out of my hands, which was all I cared about.

It did cross my mind that she would come onto him, but I immediately gagged at the thought and resigned myself to the fact that he wasn’t her type.

The lights were low in the house. Tessa, Derek, and I watched a movie before her bedtime. I made sure Mom got back to the guest house okay after dinner and immediately ran back to hidein Derek’s house. The less I had to be around her, the better. Eventually, she’d get bored and leave town of her own accord.

While I waited for Derek to come back downstairs, I debated telling him about what Tessa said.

To distract myself, I scrolled through the emails on my phone, rereading the same paragraph three times. Nothing stuck. The to-do list in my head was too long to even comprehend. In between entertaining my mom, I also managed to put up flyers while printing extras for others in town to spread around in surrounding areas. The mayor mentioned ticket sales had picked up, but he didn’t seem too happy about it, so I guessed we weren’t out of hot water yet. With my Mom in town on top of all of the Honey Festival chaos, it was starting to feel like the universe was actively conspiring against me.

I was researching the ads Scarlet suggested we put out online for the Festival when Derek stepped into the room.

He leaned in the doorway, quiet and unreadable. Tessa’s door clicked shut behind him. His sleeves were rolled up, the edge of a smile ghosting his lips, but there was something else in his eyes. Something slow and deliberate.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” I said, too quickly. “Everything’s on fire.”

He raised a brow. “Literal or metaphorical?”

“Both.” I set my phone down. “The mayor is still worried about ticket sales, my mother is still living in my house, and I still haven’t figured out how to reach more–”

He walked over slowly. Not interrupting, not rushing. Just closing the space between us like he’d already made up his mind about something.

“---people that would be willing to go. The mayor hasn’t given us any spending power to advertise the Festival, so—”

He leaned down and kissed my neck.

My words caught in my throat. I let out a soft exhale. His mouth pressed right below my jaw, slow and firm. It was purposeful.

“Derek.”

“I’m listening,” he murmured. “Keep going.”

But I couldn’t. My mouth was still halfway open, and nothing came out. Because now his hands were on my hips and he was lowering himself, slow and steady, until he was on his knees in front of me.

---