Page 42 of Everything Has Changed
She scoots up closer to the desk, clicking to the next screen. A bullet-point list is laid out for us to follow. “Each person up for auction gets a chance to strut the stage and give a few facts about themselves. Everyone is over the age of twenty-one since it’ll go hand in hand with the winery donation. Bidding starts at one hundred dollars. We do this in the evening, before everyone usually disperses for dessert. Maybe set up a movie under the stars–-”
“Nothing horror, though,” I toss in jokingly.
“A general audience approved autumn-themed movie that fits the vibe of the day. The winning bids can take their date for a picnic with a basket full of wine, meats, cheeses, and a pastry courtesy of The Willow Whisk. They can choose to use the movie as a backdrop or find a secluded spot in the square. Then, if all goes well, a few people can continue their date the next night at the masquerade ball.”
Mom taps her finger on her lips as Gwen wraps up her spiel. I wait with bated breath, hoping like hell that she doesn’t shoot her down. I don’t think my heart could take it if my mother rejected Gwen’s excitement.
But I have nothing to worry about as her hand falls and her lips turn up. She clasps her fingers together on her desk and leans forward a little, as if she’s letting us in on a secret. We both instinctively lean up as well, waiting to see what she has to say.
“I think this is a wonderful idea.” Mom claps her hands together. “Dare I say this might be the best lineup we’ve had in years?”
Gwen deflates with a relaxed expression. I know those words eased a lot of the unnecessary worry that was plaguing her. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet. We still need to pull it off.”
“I get it, but I believe in you.” Her eyes catch mine. “Both of you.”
I can’t help but reach over and grab Gwen’s hand that’s resting on the chair arm. She flips hers over instantly, grabbing onto my fingers for dear life. I don’t miss the way my mother’s gaze lingers on the contact for a beat too long. Her perfectly sculpted brows pinch together before she quickly smooths them.
“Alright, you two have a lot of work to finish in the next,” she checks the calendar on her desk, “three weeks. I’ll get you those contacts in the coming days for the auction.”
Gwen puts away her laptop, and we all stand in unison. I can’t help the smile that won’t quit on my face as I look over at the woman beside me beaming with excitement.
“Ready to get to work, partner?”
I nod enthusiastically. “More than you know.”
15
Gwendolyn
The high I feel coursing through my veins is like a people pleaser’s dream as I follow Logan down the hall and out the front door of Town Hall.
The air is turning cooler every day. The leaves are changing into a multitude of rich colors around town. I never realized until just now how perfect the view is from the top steps as Main Street ends in front of it. The stoplight sends you in the direction of the interstate or in the direction of the residential area.
Maybe it’s the giddiness that’s practically vibrating my bones after that meeting.
Maybe I do have a praise kink?
A choking sound comes from the man beside me. I whirl on Logan with wide eyes.
“Did I just say that out loud?”
With one last slap to his chest, he wheezes out, “Yup” popping the p for emphasis.
“Please, just delete that from your memory.”
He shakes his head, coming back to normal as he takes a couple more breaths. His tongue slowly traces his lower lip. “Not a chance in hell, Gwendolyn.”
“In that case,” I move toward the stairs, my momentary distraction of my beautiful town over. “I’m just going to go.”
“Wait a damn minute, Gwen.”
I don’t plan on turning around, fully intent on hightailing back to the cafe and hiding forever. But his large hand on my forearm has me spinning back. The momentum sends me directly into him, my hands landing flat on his chest.
I need to call Kennedy and tell her I’m sorry for all the times I laughed at her descriptions of her female main character thinking she ran into a wall, but it was really just the love interest. Because holy shit, this man might be a wall with how firm his muscles sit under my touch. How wide his shoulders look just barely in my line of sight—even in heeled booties.
His hand slides from its current place on my forearm up to my shoulder, landing on the junction of where it curves into my neck. His touch is so soft that it sends goosebumps skittering across my skin. I feel a need to shiver, but don’t dare make a move that could potentially break our connection.
Using the tip of his finger, Logan softly pushes my chin up, so I have no choice but to look up at him. First, I catalogue the panty-melting half-smirk that feels like the natural resting place for his lip.
