28. Grant
TWENTY-EIGHT
GRANT
I have never stared at a text message so hard in my life. I’m not even trying to decipher an emoji code—the message is loud and clear. It just so happens that I hate the message.
Lila: Would it be too much to ask my fake boyfriend to come help me set up decorations in the department store window? I have tiny arms that can’t reach
She included one all-important word in that sentence. Probably because I’m the idiot who brought it up over the weekend. Now she’s drawing a line in the sand to prove there’s no confusion over what I am to her.
I haven’t seen her in two days. Haven’t spoken to her in the morning or read to her at night. She’s sent the occasional text to check in on my plans around town, but she hasn’t indulged in long exchanges. The result is, I miss her more each hour, my mistake when I dropped her off clanging louder in my mind until it throws me off balance.
Seems like it’s time to start wearing the shirt Rhett sent.
Grant: I’m good at reaching things
She sends a bunch of heart emojis I don’t read into, along with the address, but I know the place she means. Five minutes later, I’m in my rental, slowly winding between the wooded cabins. I pass the lot for the main lodge, and a guy in a suit catches my eye. Josh. If I never see him again, I’ll be a happy man.
I’m not entirely sure his business deal is the real reason he’s here. Not that I want to think about his motives much, but it’s fair to say I don’t trust him. Worse, I don’t entirely trust myself. If he makes one more snarky comment to Lila, I’ll be throwing punches.
When I roll up to the empty department store, the front doors are propped open and jarring rock music drifts out onto the sidewalk. The front window is still papered over, but shadows move just behind it. My heart kicks up in time with the thrumming song.
Stepping over the threshold, I peer inside. Lila’s wrist-deep in American flag decor, arranging patriotic plates and napkins next to teddy bears holding tiny flags. The window space is awash in red, white, and blue, everything from wood block firecrackers to patchwork pillows to gnome-like Uncle Sams.
At least, I assume they’re Uncle Sams. They could be painfully American Gandalf dolls, for all I know.
“I feel like I should salute the window.”
Lila jumps, knocking a stubby Uncle Sam onto the floor. When her gaze hits mine, her fear dissolves into a little scowl. “You could have said something!”
“I did. Sorry, princess, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I wasn’t scared .” She rights the gnome, patting his head. “I get into a zone when I’m working, and you startled me out of it.”
“It looks good. ”
“Yeah? It’s overkill up close, but that will really make it pop from the street.”
I move closer, but not nearly as much as I want to. Her pale teal one-piece shorts outfit—Is it a jumper? Romper? I don’t know the right name—reveals toned legs I shouldn’t eye the way I am. My fingers ache to run through her hair, and I bet her tomato perfume swirls around her like an airborne drug. Basically, I’m a mess, and if I get any nearer to her, I’ll prove it.
She smiles too bright as silence worms in between us. Silence I put there. It’s clear she’s still thinking about that conversation. She has a loud face—she couldn’t conceal all the emotions coursing through her if she tried.
I don’t want her to try.
“Now.” I saunter closer because I must love punishment. “What did you need these arms for?”
I flex a bicep and slap it with my other hand like some kind of gym bro. Her eyes go wide, her mouth does the same, then laughter spills out of her.
“Don’t flex them!” she scolds. “We only have so much room in here.”
There’s the princess I’ve missed.
“What are you wearing?” She checks out Rhett’s shirt with a little laugh. “That would go great with your new hat.”
“I knew I forgot something.”
She unspools string lights and directs me how to hang them over the window scene. I climb the ladder she brought and get to work. It’s a slow process, but it isn’t strictly a two-person job. Nor is any part of the work outside of her reach, despite her shorter arms.
If my smile is smug, I’m only human.
“How long has this building been empty?” I ask.
She shrugs. “A couple of years. Mom had it deep-cleaned at the start of the new year, though. ”
“That would explain the freshly-sanitized smell.” It’s a little overpowering, probably from being shut up all the time. “What was it before?”
“Henderson’s was an old-school department store. They had a little bit of everything, but they couldn’t compete with the big box stores in Bend. Mom’s the realtor, and she’s tried to draw in a new business, but it’s a tough sell.”
“It’s a big space. What would you want to take over?”
She sighs. “Sephora.”
I laugh. “That would be convenient.”
“But seriously, a bookstore in Sunshine would be amazing. Or a toy store. We don’t have a dedicated home decor store, either.”
“Or an outdoor store.” I’m on vacation, but I still noticed. I had to shop at one of the national chains in Bend yesterday. I’m surprised my dad didn’t sense it through the Force and call to scold me.
“Yeah, but are those really all that necessary?”
I can see the mischief shining in her eyes from up here.
“They’re vital, princess.”
She gives me more slack on the string lights. “Honestly, it’s probably going to wind up becoming another thrift store one of these days.”
“Will finding a new tenant be part of your tourism job?”
“Not directly, but that won’t stop me from trying. We have a few empty spaces in town I’d love to help fill.”
“Maybe you’ll get your makeup store, after all.”
“That’s always the dream.”
After I get the string lights secured, she has me hang spangly tinsel puffs that look like fireworks. Then, metal stars at varied heights to make a backdrop. She’s right—it’s a lot crammed into one space, but she made it work.
I climb down from the ladder, and she shifts two dividers covered with a huge flag bunting behind the display to block the view of the rest of the store.
“Can I ask you a question?”
She stills. “Sure.”
“What is this music?”
She laughs and grabs her phone, the source of the questionable sounds. “You don’t like Four Arm Burn?”
She shimmies her hips, and—okay. The music isn’t so bad if it gets her to dance like that.
“It sounds like teenagers playing out-of-tune instruments in somebody’s garage.”
She turns down the music and sadly, stops dancing. “I think it is. You remember Skye? Mitchell and Deena’s daughter? She raved about the band when she picked up that dress I gave her. I wanted to give them a try. In the spirit of supporting local music.”
“You’re even more dedicated than I thought.”
She flashes an indignant look. “Some of their songs are enjoyable.”
I stare her down. “We’ve been listening for almost an hour, and I wouldn’t call any of those songs enjoyable.”
“It probably helps if you’re dating one of the guys in the band.”
“Yeah, well, you’re spoken for, so you’re free to turn that racket off at any time.”
She holds my gaze for several long seconds. This might be where I get the pointy end of her defensive stick. Not for the teenage warbling coming from her phone, but in defense of herself. I can’t remind her this is all pretend and then claim her as my own.
Why did I ever do that first part?
Oh, right. The threat of imminent bodily harm from her father via shiny new Callaway golf clubs. Also: Huge, unwieldy fear that this is all too much. Too soon, too big, too vulnerable. Distance seemed the wiser choice, but I haven’t done so well with two days of it. I don’t want more.
Finally, her mouth tips up. “You sound like an old man.”
I release the breath I’ve been holding. “That music makes me feel like an old man.”
“Maybe it should. You’re more than twice their age.”
I put my hand over my heart. “Salt in the wound, princess.”
We go out front to admire her work. The window is an explosion of flag-themed merchandise, but that feels just right for the Fourth of July.
“Festive,” I say.
“I like it. Glittering and full of charm.”
“Just like you.”
Her mouth takes on a skeptical slant, but her eyes light up when she looks past me. “Hi!”
At this point, I almost expect to find Josh behind me, but I don’t think she would greet him with that much warmth. I turn to see two older women almost on top of us on the sidewalk. They both have gray hair, a slight stoop to their shoulders, and sly smiles.
“Lila!” one says. “How nice to see you.”
“We won’t keep you long,” the other says, eyeing me. “We can see you’re busy.”
Lila slips an arm around my waist without hesitation. “Ada and Isabel, this is my much older boyfriend Grant.”
The two women tsk and laugh over her teasing. I glare down at her, but she’s wholly unrepentant, lightly digging her fingers into my side like she’s searching for ticklish spots.
“He doesn’t look much older to me.” Ada lifts her eyebrows scandalously.
“Behave.” Her friend rolls her eyes as if she’s used to these antics .
“What can I do for you?” Lila asks.
“We just wanted to let you know we’re pushing for you to get that tourism job.”
“I only wonder why they haven’t given it to you already,” Isabel adds. “You’re the perfect fit.”
Lila’s fingers on my side go still. “I didn’t realize people knew about that.”
Ada flicks a hand. “Oh, everybody knows. Think of what you’ll do for our little town with your talents.”
“You’ll really put us on the map.” Isabel beams in her confidence.
“Well. You know. There’s an applicant pool.” Lila’s laugh is so thin, it might break apart. “But I’ve got my fingers crossed.”
“We all do, honey.”
“I can’t imagine what you have to worry about. With your talents, I’m sure they’ll offer it to you.” Ada checks her watch. “But we can’t stay to chat. We’re meeting our book group at Delish for dinner.”
That catches Lila’s attention. “What kinds of books does your group read?”
“Mysteries,” Ada says, at the same time Isabel answers, “Histories.”
Ada clears her throat. “Historical mysteries.”
Her friend steers her along the sidewalk, but waves her fingers at me. “Nice to meet you, much older Grant!”
Once they’re a block away, Lila turns to me. “They’re definitely reading romances, right?”
“That would be my guess.”
She starts to slip away from me.
“Hey.” I take her hand before she can put more distance between us. “Why does it bother you that they know about this job?”
She scrunches her nose. “It doesn’t bother me. ”
“Princess.” Like I said—everything’s right there in her eyes.
She sucks in a breath, squeezing my fingers. “It’s a lot of pressure. Some people have high expectations for me. They think I’m… successful .”
“You think you’re not?”
“Mountain man, I have a part-time job and spend the rest of my days composing social media posts. When I was in Seattle, I had an executive suite. Here, I’m working out of my kitchen and Perk Me Up.”
“Yeah, but were you happier in the executive suite?”
Her lips part and close again like she’s fighting her answer. “No, I wasn’t happier. But if I don’t get this job, everyone’s going to know about it. It’s a lot to face.”
“I understand. Would it make you feel more confident in the job if you added another outdoorsy outing to your presentation?”
She groans and tugs at my hand, trying not to smile. “Why are you like this?”
“What can I say? I’m a mountain man.”
“I regret calling you that.”
“You do not.”
She shakes her head at me, but doesn’t pull away.
“We can rent bikes and do a short loop on a paved path. I’ve already scoped it out. You’ll do great.”
“I have time Thursday afternoon, but everything else is booked so I can get ready for the festival Saturday.”
“Thursday it is.”
“I can’t look at you.” Her laughter sets off sparklers in my chest. “Gloating is unattractive.”
“I’m not gloating. I’m eager.”
She looks down at our intertwined fingers. “That’s too attractive.”
“I’ll take the upgrade.”
Lila finally loses her battle, and her brilliant smile shines out. The full force of it hits me like a lightning bolt. I am a superhero charging up my powers on her sheer joy. All this light streaking through me brings clarity to one important point: if this woman breaks my heart one day, these moments with her will be worth the heartache.
“Do you want to get dinner?”
Her smile loses some of its luster. “I can’t. I have to meet with the crew in charge of the live music pavilion. We’re having a pizza party while we run through all the details.”
“No problem.”
“My schedule really is packed these next few days.”
“All the more reason to look forward to Thursday.” She’s working hard on this festival. I’m not going to give her grief over it.
She tilts her head, gazing up at me. “But…maybe I can call you tonight and find out what happens next to that wizard and his friend?”
There’s that lightning strike again. They say it doesn’t hit twice, but this joy humming through me feels pretty permanent when I’m with her.
“Deal.”