Page 23 of Every Little Kiss
CHAPTER 6
Smelling of iodine and still in her scrubs, Liv hurried to the back of the Bear Claw Bakery and plopped down at the end of the table, going low in the seat, a little breathless from her mad dash across the parking lot. She’d just finished a shift at the hospital and was gearing up for her second shift as president of Team Paxton Fan Club when she’d seen Ford standing across the street looking like sex on a stick.
The worst part was that he’d seen her. Not just a moment ago, but the other night on the beach. He’d blasted right past the grieving-widow exterior and spoke to that place, deep inside, that she purposefully kept secret. Even more terrifying, she liked what she heard.
She could blame the romantic backdrop of the sun setting over the deep blue lake for confusing her. But she was pretty sure it was the man himself. Which was why she’d spent the early part of the week avoiding him. A hard task since he lived just three doors down.
But when Liv set her mind to something, she saw it through.
Unfortunately, she chose to duck into the meeting place of the Women of the Wagon Trail—Sequoia Lake’s version of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Made up from some of the town’s oldest families, the WOTWT was the area’s oldest society. And she’d sat down just in time for their weekly fund-raising meeting.
“What are you doing here?” Avery asked, looking at Liv as if she’d grown a third head.
Nope, just wings and feathers. And at any minute she was going to cluck like the chicken she was.
“I’m here for the meeting. Is it over?” Liv asked, looking around the café to find it oddly empty, then back to her two friends. Avery and Grace—the only two WOTWT members who seemed to be present.
Maybe her luck was changing.
“Hasn’t started yet.”Or not.“Irene was about to call the meeting to order when Mavis started harassing a couple of firemen, asking to sample their buns,” Avery said, her hiking boots, khaki shorts, and fitted tank making her look like a real-life Lara Croft with long blonde locks. Which was fitting since she worked as an adventure guide at the local lodge. “Mavis took one look at their uniforms and thought they were the entertainment, so she started waving bills in the air, and chaos broke out.”
Liv slung her bag over the back of a chair and took a seat. “Where are they?”
“Shelia kicked them out when someone started sampling buns without permission. Said they can’t come back in until they promise to behave,” Grace Mills, the third piece in their bestie sandwich, said. She was dressed in pressed capris, a light cream top with matching ballet flats, and a look of utter confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s the weekly Wagon Days meeting, right?” Liv asked, playing it cool and reaching across the table to help herself to one of the many cupcakes piled in the center of the platter. “I heard there was some kind of problem with the entertainment, and they needed volunteers, so where else would I be?”
Easier than explaining she was hiding from her sexy new neighbor.
Wagon Days was an annual fund-raiser hosted by the Women of the Wagon Trail, and it was their most honored achievement. It served as the biggest community fund-raiser and the most-attended family day of the year.
It was a time for neighbors to mingle and kids to run free. It was on old-fashioned town fair with more than a hundred food and craft booths from local vendors, a gold-panning contest, and even a cakewalk. The goal was to bring the town together to celebrate family, history, and nature the way the founders of Sequoia Lake intended when they settled this town. While raising much-needed funds for the local schools and churches.
Avery shot Liv a look. “Um, anywhere that doesn’t involve talk of crafting, committees, and who’s going to run this year’s cakewalk.”
Liv felt a rash break out on her wrist. “I don’t see any glitter or glue guns. I’m on the Yahoo group committee for WOTWT—”
“Everyone in town is on the Yahoo group. It’s not a committee,” Avery interrupted.
“—and I happen to love cake.” To prove it she snagged a cupcake right off Grace’s plate and sank her teeth into the gooey treat, moaning with pleasure. “God, that’s good,” she said around bits of key-lime cupcake. “So is there a sign-up list going around?”
“It must be low blood sugar,” Avery said to Grace.
“Either that or she accidentally ate one of Shelia’s special cupcakes,” Grace said, guarding the rest of the cupcakes with her arms. “Because I could have sworn she just said sign-up list and smiled.” She looked at Avery. “That is a smile, isn’t it?”
Avery leaned in for a closer inspection. “I see teeth, but I’d say her lips are more curled than curved.”
“Hello? Sitting right here,” Liv said.
“We know,” Avery said. “You are here, at a Women of the Wagon Trail meeting, of your own free will. An emergency meeting that will likely include people sharing their opinions in a loud manner and forced participation, and you’re not looking for the nearest exit.”
“When I mentioned it would be cheaper to sign up for my Sips and Splatters class rather than pop in every week, you said it was too much of a commitment,” Grace pointed out.
Liv snorted. “You make me sound like I’m allergic to commitment.” Which was ridiculous, because Liv was the most committed person on the planet.
As the daughter of two doctors, Liv had built her life around commitment. Always weighing her decisions in terms of achievement. Even before marriage, she’d only dated men who had potential to go the distance. She’d never had a fling, a hobby job, or even a phone plan that lasted less than five years.
“See.” Grace pointed at her. “Just the word has you scratching.”
