Page 39 of A Surefire Love
Blaze stared blankly toward the stash. “None of the girls have said anything in small group that leads me to believe they’re unhappy or unsafe at home. Have the boys?”
He shook his head.
“What about Carter?” Her brown eyes warmed with concern. “Drinking on a youth group trip is a much bigger warning sign than Hadley’s seventh-grade humor.”
“According to Eric, the drinking is just a sign of bad leadership.”
Her eyes and mouth opened like a fish. “What?”
He clenched his jaw. “Forget I said that.”
She side-eyed him like he’d asked her to forget witnessing a murder.
He probably ought to give some context. “Eric’s behind the initiative to double the youth group. We’ve been butting heads. That’s all. Our differences aside, I talked to Carter onSaturday and he came back to youth group. He hasn’t let on to anything. Plus, he’d stockpile a lot more food. He eats more than I do. And how would he get in here?”
“How would Hadley? Or any of them?”
They had more questions than answers, and posing them to each other wouldn’t get them anywhere.
Mercy appeared in the doorway. She’d earned a Rooted hoodie for bringing Amelia on the canoe trip, and she yanked the zipper up and down, up and down. “Looked everywhere. Couldn’t find it.”
Hadley edged in behind her, nodding empathetically.
“Hm.” Blaze crossed to the purse she’d left on the couch and produced her phone. “Sure enough, it’s right here.”
Mercy snickered. “At least it was easy to find this time. Remember when you left your keys in the bag of lettuce in the fridge?”
“I do.” She moved toward the door. “We should get going. We need to get Hadley home, and Anson has places to go.”
Right. The missed anniversary.
As soon as they left, he took a plastic bag from the cabinet and piled the snacks inside. Then, he wrote a note on a slip of paper—I’m here to help. Call me—and dropped it inside. He stuffed the whole collection back under the couch.
That done, he drew out his phone, but guilt and embarrassment stopped him from using it to contact Sydney. He should’ve remembered. He should be excited to propose too. Instead, picking a ring, talking to her parents, choosing a place, and figuring out the right heartfelt words felt like a chore.
That was stress talking. Once things settled down withthe leadership board and they discovered the truth behind the sleeping bag, he could refocus on Sydney. If he wanted proposing to still be an option when the dust settled, he needed to treat her with more care in the meantime, starting with apologizing in person.
15
Anson stood on Sydney’s front step with the most expensive flower arrangement available at the grocery store. She would probably say he shouldn’t have bought them, but she’d dip her face to smell the flowers as she spoke. He pressed the doorbell. Around him, crickets hummed and distant traffic swished like one long sigh. Another calm night in Many Oaks.
The door opened. Sydney, dressed in leggings and a tank top, leaned against the frame. Head tilted, she eyed the flowers. “What’s this about?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Ah.” She stepped back to allow him in.
He’d imagined she’d immediately let him off the hook. She hadn’t even accepted the flowers.
Regret pooled in his lungs. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“We didn’t even get together the day of, and I thought I was okay with that, but a call or something would’ve been nice. Then, on Saturday when I did see you, you were prettydiscouraged after talking to Carter.” She perched on a stool at her kitchen island and pulled one foot up under herself, a steaming mug of tea beside her. “I asked if you wanted to talk, but you said you’d rather watch a movie.”
“I would’ve gotten out of my head if I’d realized I was missing our anniversary.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “If it had been important to you—”
“I didn’t forget because you’re not important to me. I forgot because I’m an idiot. I got caught up with work. Carter and Eric ….” He shook his head.
