Page 73 of One Small Spark
“Let’s do that,” I say instead.
TWENTY-ONE
SHEPHERD
SuggestingI could read our romance book out loud to Wren was a terrible idea. Giving voice to all this attraction and barely-contained longing is torture, even if it’s fictional. She sits at the opposite end of my couch, her feet tucked up beneath her, listening as I read the couple’s flirty banter, heated arguments, and endless poetic descriptions of cowboys.
It would be awkward if she weren’t smiling so hard. She’s not taking it very seriously. Probably because I just read the phraseglistening sea-blue orbsregarding the heroine’s eyes.
She stretches, shifting the smallest centimeter closer along the couch. At this rate, it will take her all night to get to my side, but I’m prepared to wait.
Frustration roared through me when she admitted why things stalled out between us. I should have known I’d have fallout from confronting a wealthy narcissist like Richard Allred. I just had no idea he’d retaliate withher. Of all the options at his disposal, he found my weakest spot.
Although, I probably revealed my intentions loud and clear when I got in his face after overhearing what he said about her. Even all this time later, his plans for her make my blood boil. Hewas confident enough to go into vivid detail at Stumpjumper where anyone could hear him—I have no doubt he intended to follow through. Use and discard was the gist of it.
I should have punched him when I had the chance.
“Do you have a blanket?” Wren says as I turn a page.
“In the basket at your end of the couch.”
She twists to look. “You have a blanket basket? Are you a real adult or something?”
“Or something.”
She stands to collect the blanket. When she sits back down, she’s erased most of the space between us. I fight a smirk and read on. Shifting the open paperback to the arm of the couch so I can turn pages one-handed, I rest my other hand between us, palm up.
I keep reading, waiting for movement in my peripheral vision. I swear, she stares at my hand like she’s examining it for booby traps. I’m not sure what nefarious motives she thinks I have in the offer, but she seems to sift through them all. Finally, she slips her palm against mine, the echoes of her small touch radiating up my arm.
If she were to look, she would see the smuggest, most satisfied smile on my face. But she goes on watching my hand like it’s a marvel. We kissed until we were both breathless and out of our minds, but this simple touch is a foreign country for us. One I very much want to take up dual residency in.
I pause at the end of the second chapter, unsure how long I’ve been reading, but willing to keep going until my voice is hoarse if it keeps her here on my couch.
“She really can’t stand that cowboy,” Wren says.
“And yet, he’s obviously smitten with her.”
“That doesn’t happen in real life.” She flips my hand so hers is beneath it and uses her other to trace slow patterns over my skin. If I died and this is heaven, nobody zap my heart back tolife. “Is this what you thought would happen when you joined a romance book group?”
“Yes, but I had my eye on Fran.”
She whistles a low note. “High hopes.”
I already told her about Rosetta’s repeated invitations, but making a friend happy wasn’t the only reason. “I joined because I thought it might help with my anxiety. Get some exposure therapy in a contained situation.”
“Is it helping?”
“They do put me on the spot a lot.” I squeeze her hand beneath mine.
She shifts to face me better. She’s exquisite like this, relaxed on my couch. “What else do you need more exposure to?”
Don’t even ask, kitten.
“Reading aloud to a beautiful woman would help.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s still got a grin going. “Look at me, doing my part. I could help you prepare for that town hall presentation if you want.”
Dread creeps in behind the comfort of the evening, playing peekaboo from the shadows. I was trying not to think about that, despite Lila’s chipper texts for us to coordinate for the slideshow. A date’s been set for next month, a glaring red square on my calendar. My quick escape the other day seems to have barely registered with her. Or she’s pointedly ignoring it.
