Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
“The thing is.” She smiled at me. “Marc’s not …
he doesn’t … Marc doesn’t do this.” She gestured vaguely in his direction.
“He doesn’t let people in. He hardly ever has.
He’s always let everyone lean on him and he just takes it—absorbs it—and he doesn’t ask for anything in return.
And I hate that. But with you … he’s letting you in, he’s listening to your advice, and he’s not as tightly wound as he was. ”
I held what she said close to my heart and put it in the space that I’d recently filled.
“I’m not interrogating you.” She paused.
“Much. I just want to know that you appreciate Marc. That you see he’s showing you parts of himself he doesn’t show everyone.
That you take care of his fragile little heart.
Because he pretends he doesn’t have one and yet he’s the one who feels the most out of all of us. ”
“I understand,” I said. And then, because Grace had just handed me something real, the least I could do was match that.
“I’m not going anywhere. I know when I came here, I was an asshole to him.
Now I better understand our interactions as kids, and I see that sweet man he’s afraid to show everyone.
With him, I feel safe. And I can’t ever remember being able to say that about any guy I dated. ”
Grace didn’t answer right away. Her gaze held mine—steady and unblinking. My fingers tightened around my glass. God, she saw too much. Then her expression shifted—warmer, accepting—and I knew we were good.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. You pass.” She picked up a drink I hadn’t even noticed got delivered to her and sipped it. “By the way, I’m claiming you. You don’t get to vote. You’re one of my besties now.”
“Is that how this works?” I asked, hoping she’d read my sarcasm the way I’d intended.
“Yup. That’s how the Kingsleys work.” She clinked against my glass of water. “Welcome to a chaotic, well-intentioned family that will go to the ends of the earth for you.”
I grinned. I did love their family. “Thank you for caring so much about him that you’d be willing to confront me to keep your brother safe.”
She winked. “This stays between us. Marc can’t know, or he’ll think I’ve gone soft. He needs to think I’ll get him when he least expects it. That’s how we roll.”
“My lips are sealed.” Even though I knew Marc had seen it already. He didn’t need me to say a word.
Grace linked her arm through mine. “Want to wait and see how many times I have to save poor Kevin before Josh explodes?” I glanced up to find Josh watching her. The tension between them simmered all night.
“Sure.” We returned to the table. Kevin, sweet and unaware; Grace, bright and easy; and Josh, across from them, gripping his drink.
Adele caught my eye, equally fascinated. “This is new,” she whispered. “Should grab popcorn.” I laughed, but when Kevin leaned in to show Grace something on his phone and their heads tipped together, Josh shoved back from the table and disappeared toward the bar.
Grace’s gaze followed him, something quick and complicated crossing her face before she turned back to Kevin.
I shook my head. Had Marc and I been just as clueless?
Adele laughed at something Ellie said and pulled me out of my thoughts. It was real and unguarded, and it filled the space around her with joy. And I also noticed Wyatt’s expression when he looked at her.
He was across the table. He’d been careful all evening—the same careful distance I’d noted at the shelter, the same deliberate geography of a man who knew exactly where she was and how much space was between them.
He’d been fine. They’d both been fine. Until Adele laughed.
He looked at her the way you looked at someone you’d been pretending not to miss, and just for a second, remembered how much you did. Adele felt his stare. I watched her feel it—the laughter faded at the edges and her expression shifted as she registered his attention from across the table.
She turned. Their eyes met. Held.
One second became two.
Then Adele looked away. Picked up her drink. Said something to Ellie that continued the conversation and didn’t acknowledge what had happened.
Wyatt looked at his glass.
Neither of them said a word.
I didn’t say anything either, but I made note of it.
This. Whatever this was had gone on long enough.
I tried to respect Adele’s wish for silence, but from what I’d seen, it wasn’t doing either of them any good. And soon, not tonight, I was going to find out what had happened, even if it was to bring closure to the two of them.
I turned my attention to Marc.
He’d been in the middle of a conversation with his dad. “We just wait,” Marc said.
I was so frustrated for him. For Theo. For all the sweet animals that needed this grant. And the committee departing with such a blasé retort that they’d know in two weeks.
I’d watched Marc absorb the uncertainty of their statement with the careful composure he used when things were outside his control, and I’d thought, sitting there, that I couldn’t fix the committee’s timeline, but I could help alleviate my man’s worry.
My man.
“What if we don’t wait?” I asked.
The table noise around us dipped.
Marc looked at me. “What?”
“What if we don’t wait for the committee?” The idea that had scratched at my brain was now coming at me like a runaway locomotive. “What if we don’t sit here and just wait for their decision? What if we give them something else to look at? To think about?”
“What do you mean?” Theo asked. He’d slipped in a few minutes ago. He and Marc were so alike it was no wonder they got along so well.
“A community event,” I said. “A big one. Not a yoga class, or maybe it could include one, but a full day event. We can do it in the Ruby River Commons. Vendors, food, a local band, a temporary pen for shelter animals that we can showcase for adoption, raffles, and prizes.”
This time the entire table was quiet.
I sucked in a breath. “People love the shelter. They want to help. Let’s show the committee that we take care of our own.”
Grace leaned forward. “They said they’d get back to you in two weeks, right?”
Marc nodded, never once taking his eyes off me.
“Then we do it big. We make it shareable. Video content, live coverage, a hashtag. We get it in front of not just Ruby River, but all of Rhode Island. The whole United States.” Grace pumped her fist.
“Donations,” Adele said. “Not just attendance. Not just visibility—let’s give people a way to contribute directly to the shelter.”
Marc stayed silent, and for the first time, I didn’t know what he was thinking.
I wanted to help him. Create something he could participate in so he didn’t feel so helpless.
His mouth twitched. Just one tiny movement. “When?”
“Next weekend. Before the committee issues their report.”
“That’s only one week,” he pointed out.
“I know.”
He held my gaze for a second longer before turning to Theo. Theo’s expression was so full of hope I wanted to cry. “I’m in,” he said quietly.
We looked at Glamma because she was Ruby River’s biggest mover and shaker. If she said we could do this, then we could.
“Let’s make it happen,” she grinned.
Those four words opened the dam. Everyone talked at once.
Grace was messaging Everly, asking about the Ruby River Commons.
Adele and Ellie workshopped the donation structure.
Josh, Drew, and Theo debated the logistics of large animal pens versus smaller stations.
Maddox and Alice came by and helped brainstorm food vendors.
Kevin asked what he could do and was assigned three tasks by Grace.
Marc reached for my hand again. He lifted it up and kissed my knuckles. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.” I said. “I wanted to.”
He looked at me. “Why?”
I thought about these few weeks of us together.
Of a back storage room turned into a yoga studio with some fairy lights and blind faith.
About Noble getting adoption inquiries. About the community, and Marc’s family that had shown up because that’s what Ruby River did. It showed up for one of their own.
“Because it matters to you,” I said. “And you matter to me.”