Page 49 of Under Pink Skies

“Water?” he said, and I lifted my foot to gesture at the fridge.

“Grab whatever you need,” I said as he pulled his shirt hem toward his face to wipe the sweat from his brow. Long, sharp lines of muscle flashed before me and my breathing hitched in my throat. “But turn that fan on before you come over here.”

Connor grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and joined us, sitting on Imogen’s other side. She scooted closer to me, wrinkling her nose.

“You smell.”

Connor stuck his tongue out at her before cracking the bottle open and taking a long swig.

“It’s beenfive years,“ I said incredulously. “How can the two of you still be acting like this?”

“He has cooties,” Imogen said, as if that were a perfectly reasonable explanation for why two twenty-somethings didn’t want to sit next to one another. “And, he smells.”

“You’ve established that,” Connor said, smirking around the bottle. “Gotta come up with something original if you want to get under my skin, Phillips.”

“Anyway,” I said, trying to avert a crisis before it happened. “It’s too hot for anything today, but I am really stressing about getting these stalls built for the market.”

Imogen shook her head. “I don’t understand why the council decided this year, of all the years, was the time to redo all the woodworking.”

“I don’t either,” I groaned.

Imogen and Connor both looked at me.

“I’m on the verge of closing down the store and moving into a hobbit hole in the woods.”

“Does the hobbit hole have Wi-Fi?” Imogen asked.

“And a bathroom?” Connor said.

“I’ll move with you if it does,” Imogen said.

I groaned, knocking my head back against the counter.

“I don’t know where I’m going to find the time or labor to build ten more market stalls. We have over twenty businesses and nonprofits confirmed for the vendor fair, and I only ordered enough supplies for ten. I put in a rush order and paid extra to have the lumber delivered within a week, but I got a phone call this morning that there’s been a delay, and I don’t have time to waste. Oh, and Noah Wilkinson came by this morning to let me know the campsite is booked. Alltenof the new cabins! Booked! For theentirefestival weekend.”

My voice reached a fever pitch, and Connor and Imogen averted their gazes to their feet. The whine of the small window air conditioning unit was the only sound in the store.

“It”ll be alright,” Connor said, reaching across Imogen’s lap and giving my hand a squeeze. The touch of his hand on mine threatened to send me into a tailspin. At the same time, it helped me focus my breathing on something other than the panic swelling in my chest.

“Where do we start?”

I took a deep breath before rattling off all the random tasks that still needed doing. During my tirade, Imogen reached for a pencil and paper and start scribbling things down.

“I spoke with Trent on the phone yesterday and everything is in place with the permits,” I said, my brain finally slowing down after spending the last two weeks in high-power mode. Being able to brain dump and get everything out of my head had been more helpful than I anticipated. Some of the tension drained from my shoulders, and my heartbeat slowed.

“Judging by this list, it seems like most of these tasks are just putting the finishing touches on things, and double checking that we have everything,” Imogen said. “I think we’re perfectly on schedule.”

“I agree,” Connor said. “I’ll get in touch with Kameron and Lucas to make sure we’re still on track with the stall building, and that all the signage has arrived. Kameron had to drive back to Winding Road to check in on things at the farm, but he’ll be here at week’s end. He plans to stay through the end of the festival weekend. Lucas has been out of town too, but he’ll also be back by Friday, so you’ll have all hands on deck to help with the finishing touches. You’ve done a great job, Abbie.”

I let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

“I couldn’t have done any of this without your help. This would have been a massive failure if I didn’t have the two of you. Also, Kameron. And Lucas. And—“

“Abbie?”

“Yes, Imogen?”

“Let’s get you home. You need a night off.”

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