Page 54 of Flare Up
“I’ve gotten to know your family a little,” Wren said. “And, honestly, that’s probably your best move.”
They were all laughing when movement in the corner of Wren’s eye caught her attention, and she turned her head in time to see a fellow diner stand too fast and bump her table. The empty glass fell off the edge and smashed onto the floor.
Immediately, Lydia was on her feet, making sure the woman hadn’t cut herself. Then she put her hands on her hips. “You have to kiss Bobby Orr.”
The woman must not have been a regular customer because she looked confused. “I have to what?”
“See that signed picture of Bobby Orr on the wall? When you break a glass, you have to kiss the picture or really bad things happen.” Wren smiled when the woman’s eyes widened. But Lydia only nodded. “I’m serious. Just kiss your fingertips and press them to the glass. It counts and, trust me, you don’t actually want your mouth on that.”
Once the ritual had been completed, everybody went back to what they were doing, and Lydia went back to work behind the bar.
“I love this place,” Wren said.
“I do, too,” Cait agreed. “But sometimes I wonder what it must look like to people who just wander in here randomly, looking for a beer or a meal.”
“There are probably people who only come here once.” Wren shrugged. “Those aren’t our people.”
Cait laughed. “No, they’re not.”
These were Wren’s people, she thought. Cait and Lydia and all the rest of them. Grant wasn’t the only person she’d missed while she was gone, though she’d certainly missed him the most. And she recognized how blessed she was to have them let her back in.
“I’m going to hate myself,” Cait said. “But you have to give me a few details of the Wrangler sex because I just can’t picture it.”
Wren laughed. “I’m not sure I want you picturing it.”
“Not you two specifically. That would be weird. But in a general sense, considering he’s fairly tall, I’m not grasping the physics of it. So spill.” She paused with her wineglass halfway to her mouth. “But in very broad terms, of course. Obviously it involved your elbow and the seat fabric.”
“I’m not drawing it on a napkin. Just so you know.”
“Oh, it’s that complicated?” Cait grinned. “I might need another glass of wine.”
* * *
“The women are up to something again,” Derek said, holding up his phone as if they could read the screen he was waving around. “Olivia needs me to reschedule a thing because there’s apparently one night, and one night only, next month when all the women are available at the same time.”
Grant raised his hands, palms out. “I don’t even want to know. And I definitely don’t want to know where they’ll be.”
“You say that now.” Gavin rolled his eyes. “I’m just telling you now that I’m forbidden from using Cait’s phone location to help any idiots—meaning you—crash girls’ nights out in the future, so you’ll have to find them on your own.”
“You stopped being funny a long time ago, Gav.” Grant turned his attention back to the television, though he was dying to know what the women were planning. If he kept his mouth shut, he knew he’d find out, though. The other guys would find out and talk about it. He just didn’t want to be the one who asked.
“You’re in a mood tonight,” Chris said. “Wren shut you off?”
“Don’t worry about me and Wren. We’re good. I’m in a mood because there’s nothing going on and the checklists are all done and there’s nothing to do but sit and listen to you guys talk about nothing.”
Wren hadn’t shut him off, but he also hadn’t seen her since the night they’d gotten busy in his Jeep after they’d decided that wasn’t something they should try. They not only tried, but they succeeded. Her elbow got a little beat up and they snapped off the passenger-side visor, but they’d both agreed it was worth it.
He’d had to work the next day, and then she’d been the one who was busy. She had lunch with Cait on Wednesday, but then she was either at the salon, the market or sleeping after that. And she wasn’t sleeping in his bed, where he could at least hold her while she slept.
But tomorrow morning he was going to pick her up and they’d head north. He’d have her mostly to himself for two days. No wise-cracking best friends. No bosses. No ex-boyfriends to worry about.
Just the two of them. And his parents, of course.
She still wouldn’t be sleeping in his bed, but she’d be under the same roof, at least. In his childhood home, which wasn’t just the place he’d grown up, but was the place that first popped into his head when he heard the word home. Hopefully that would change someday and wherever Wren was would be his true home.
“I think I’m going to hit the racks,” he said, sick of the banter going on around him. “We’re heading for New Hampshire tomorrow and I’m hoping we have a quiet night so we can leave first thing in the morning.”
He shouldn’t have said it out loud, he thought later, when the tone sounded in the wee hours and they all stumbled out of their bunks and into their gear.
