Page 6 of Holidate Fail
“It’s too bad the Salem witches didn’t have gargoyles protecting them.” Dahlia spoke her thoughts aloud as they drove down Main Street.
Kelly snorted out a laugh as they passed a park. “Nice to know you haven’t stopped connecting thoughts that aren’t connected.”
Her thought process had always served her well. She stayed silent, trying to ignore his flippant comment.
Kelly’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, but she quickly turned away. “Sorry. I didn’t realize…I didn’t mean anything by it, Dahlia. Really.”
She gave him a quick nod, then focused out the window as they passed a coffee shop.
“Pull over!” Heath yelled.
Kelly squeaked into a parking space in front of Cuppa Joe’s. “You figured out the clue?”
Lacole studied the storefronts. “I don’t see any gargoyles.”
“What? No, man, I said I was hungry.” He got out of the car. “You guys want anything?”
“Yeah, I’ll come in with you.” Lacole slid out of the front seat.
“Dahlia?”
Oh, man. Eating in front of her date. In front of Kelly. Old Dahlia would stammer and ask for a diet soda. But new Dahlia…“Coffee’s good.”
Heath asked her about cream and sugar, then followed Lacole into the shop.
Leaving Dahlia alone with Kelly. Her throat was drier than bones in a desert.
Kelly tapped his fingers against the steering wheel before shifting to look at her in the backseat. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Bold and brave. “I’m not the same girl I was fifteen years ago, Kelly. But I’m not going to hide the way I think because you think it’s weird.”
“Who said anything about it being weird?” Kelly said. “It’s intriguing.”
His thoughtful gaze held hers, long enough that her heart was eager to leap out of her body and into his.
Whew, the eye contact was making her dizzy, so she blinked to break it. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He gave her a grin. “So let’s hear it.”
“Hear what?”
“What you’re thinking.”
“I’m still stuck on gargoyles and witches. Like, what if Arthur Miller had added gargoyles in The Crucible.”
“That would have made it a much more interesting story.” Kelly laughed. It was a nice laugh, full and unashamed.
“Stories,” Dahlia echoed. “‘This establishment takes reservations, and you'll find gatherings of millers and potters and butlers and kings on different stories.’”
“So, stories like in books,” Kelly said. “Not floors of a building. And books are in libraries.”
“Where you’d find Arthur Miller,” Dahlia said. “And you can reserve the books.”
Kelly snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “And Beatrix Potter. The miller and the potter.”
“Yes!” He might’ve mocked her thought process, but he had followed it.
A rap on the car window made Dahlia jump. Heath and Lacole stood outside, each holding two plastic cups bearing the Cuppa Joe’s logo.
