Page 10 of One Small Spark
“The heroine in this one should be more relatable.” Ada’s eyes twinkle in the afternoon light. “She’s convinced she hates the broody cowboy hero, but I have a feeling he’s going to change her mind.”
Wren’s excitement fades, leaving a hollow smile. “Yay.”
Inside, we pack up the leftovers, and women slowly start heading out. Ada grabs her phone off the kitchen table. “Give me your number, Wren, and I’ll add you to our group chat.”
“Do you discuss books as you read?”
“We try to keep spoilers out of the chat,” Rosetta tells her. “But we like being in touch.”
“Maybe Shepherd will give you his bread recipe,” Barb suggests.
“If you ask nicely,” Nora croons.
“Maybe he’ll even give you a one-on-one lesson.” Fran’s gleeful smile completely misses Wren’s growing grimace.
“Maybe we can knead the dough together,Ghost-style.” Wren’s lack of enthusiasm almost makes me laugh.
So does the lack of subtlety in this group.
“Take these with you.” Ada foists so many containers of leftovers into her hands they almost topple.
Wren glances at me as she juggles the food, and I can’t hold back my “I told you so” smirk. Her frown deepens, but she switches to a smile for Ada.
“Thanks so much for inviting me.”
“We’re glad to have you join us. You’re the perfect match for…” Ada takes a deep breath, drawing out the pregnant pause. “Our little group.”
“I’m always looking for my next book boyfriend.”
“What about a real one?” Fran asks.
“Find me a guy with a kilt and a castle, and we’ll talk.” She backs toward the door, avoiding eye contact with me. “I like my men like I like my coffee: tall, dark, and fictional.”
A couple of the women shake their heads at her silly expression.
“Is that from one of your shirts?” I ask.
Her gaze hits mine like a thunderbolt. She’s almost smiling. “Trademark Wren Krause. Don’t steal my idea.”
With that warning, she slips out the door. I watch her out the front window until she disappears from view.
Rosetta sidles up next to me. “That’s a wildfire just waiting for a spark.”
I chuckle at her perfect assessment. I’ve been looking for a match for years.
FOUR
WREN
If I were a sweeter,kinder, more demure woman, I would have already forgiven Callahan for horning his way into the romance book clubI’vebeen trying to horn into. I would say, “It is what it is,” smile, and move on.
But I am a wretched woman full of snark and Dr. Pepper, so I barge into my house dreaming up ways to exact my revenge. Subscribe to junk mail in his name. Put up fliers around town that say “Get in Gear sucks.” Sneak into his house and burn all of his stupid flannel shirts.
Wait. Nope. Bad idea. That would leave him wandering around shirtless, and nobody wants to seethat.
Nobody.
Even if I am kind of curious. Do the tattoos just stop at his shoulders or what?
