17. Reed
reed
Work has become a special form of torture.
It was always something close to it—crowds relying on me to make them happy has never been a winning scenario.
But now, being in the coffee shop with Rose leaves me constantly careening toward bad decisions.
On any given day, I can’t tell if the urge crawling just beneath my skin is to escape to my cabin in the woods, or to crush her to me and never let her go.
Maybe the only solution is to take her with me into the woods.
Rose and I are working the coffee cart, putting no space between us while we serve drinks at this week’s concert.
The orange dress she’s wearing is like sunshine in a bottle.
I should shield my eyes and spare myself the pain, but I glory in it anyway.
The fabric’s subtle pattern will feature in my dreams tonight.
As much as the crowds drain me, they energize her.
She greets customers with never-ending warmth and asks how they’re enjoying their evening.
Compares notes on the bands and remarks on the brilliant sunset washing everything in pink and gold.
Wishes people well like a benevolent fairy blessing the townsfolk in a children’s story.
Her gaze constantly drifts to me, checking in without saying the words. Teasing me with the curl along her mouth, a sly smile whose meaning I can’t sort out. Maybe she doesn’t mean anything by it. Maybe I’ve just been obsessed with her mouth since she kissed my cheek the other night.
No. I was obsessed long before then.
Jovie runs up to our booth with Luke ambling along behind her. She’s beaming at Rose, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her wild hair streaming out of her sagging braid. No telling just how many rapid-fire questions she’s about to ask.
Luke casts me a sheepish look. “She wouldn’t let it go. I had to choose between your comfort or mine.”
“Thanks for being so selfless,” I say dryly.
“Hi, Rose.” Jovie leans on the table to rest her chin in one hand, staring at Rose like she’s soaking up the glorious view. Get in line, nugget.
Rose mirrors Jovie’s pose, putting them eye to eye. Something about that small gesture makes my chest ache. “Hi, Jovie. Are you having fun?”
She wrinkles her nose. “I guess. This one’s kind of slow.”
A string quartet is playing now, which I quite like. But Jovie prefers pop songs she can do dance routines to over Mozart or Beethoven. Shocker.
“But they’re playing a Taylor Swift song.”
Jovie’s face sours further. “I wish. It’s an orchestra.”
Rose laughs, but it’s not unkind. She never could be. “But listen.” She slowly bops her head along to the music and softly sings under her breath. Something about going where you go and always being this close.
Jovie’s eyes light up. “What? I didn’t know that!”
Neither did I. Glad I didn’t say anything to Rose about the “Mozart” piece the group is playing. I would have proven I know as little about culture as my niece. Possibly less.
“Their name is The Invisible String Quartet,” Rose says. “I think maybe Taylor’s stuff is all they do.”
Jovie swivels her head to spot Luke. “I love this music!”
He raises his eyebrows. “You just told me you don’t like old people music.”
“Dad!” She playfully shoves him. “I didn’t know it was good music then.”
“I see.” He nods at her. “Order your drink so we can get back to Grandma and Granddad.”
I expected my family to be drawn to our cart like so many moths tonight, but apparently they’re exercising previously untapped wells of self control. If I know them, they’re saving it up for the right time. Like predators lying in wait for the injured antelope to walk by.
Jovie asks Rose for her ubiquitous strawberry milk. It’s one of the few items on our menu without caffeine, and a big hit with kids. Like most things in the coffee shop, I have Rose to thank for that.
“Grandma told me not to ask you any questions and to just be nice.” Jovie drops both her forearms on the table, gazing up at Rose. “She said we don’t want to overwhelm you.”
Rose shines with amusement as she prepares the drink. “That’s very sweet of her.”
No wonder my family’s been scarce tonight. I’ll have to thank Mom later.
“Do you think questions are overwhelming? Because I don’t.
I like them. I like to talk. Dad says I was born yapping.
” She rolls her eyes. “But my teacher only had to give me a warning once or twice for talking too much in class this year. That’s not so bad, right? Three times maybe, but that’s all.”
Rose passes over her drink. “I used to get in trouble for talking in class, too.”
“Really?” Jovie grabs onto this news as if they just bonded for life. “Are you coming—”
She must remember Mom’s warning and swallows down her question. A second later, her eyes sparkle like Lucy’s when she’s about to give me crap for something.
“Sunday dinners at Grandma and Granddad’s are so fun, aren’t they, Uncle Reed?”
Yep. She and my sister are two little soul twins.
“We have the best time, talking and laughing and eating good food. And everyone’s invited. Especially anybody special to us. Like a girlfriend.” She bats her eyelashes at Rose in case we’re all idiots. “If anybody special wanted to come this week, that would be so cool. But not a question.”
This kid with her little fingers wrapped around my heart sure knows how to squeeze.
“All right.” Luke pays for her drink. “You found the loophole in Grandma’s rules.”
She scoops up her drink, beaming over her cleverness. “I’m just telling Rose about dinner. I didn’t ask at all.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Anyway, Uncle Reed is the one who should ask her.” She points at me with her arm extended, like a villager calling out a witch. “Did you ask her to come to dinner?”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask questions,” I say.
“That was only for Rose.” She flashes the smile she uses when she’s won a game over me. Triumphant yet vaguely threatening.
“Alright, we’re going back.” Luke nudges her away from the table. “You can tell me the names of the rest of the songs now that you know to listen for them.”
“Okay. Bye, Rose.” She raises two fingers to her eyes, then turns them out to jab toward me. “Ask her.”
Rose raises a hand to her mouth, trying to hide the way her lips twist with laughter as they walk away.
“She makes an enthusiastic yet frightening wingman,” I say.
Rose hip checks me. “I love her.”
I knew she would.
I also know I shouldn’t ask the question that’s about to come out of my mouth, but apparently, I can’t stop the tide any more than Jovie can.
“Do you want to come to dinner on Sunday?” My skin goes hot and cold at once. Suddenly, I’m a teenager again, asking a girl out for the first time. Pretty sure I wasn’t this nervous then.
She turns to face me, her mouth wry. “I can’t help but feel you’re asking under threat of pain.”
“A bit, yeah. But not just from her. My mom has mentioned it.” A few dozen times. “No pressure. Whatever you want is fine. But if you want to…I’d like you to come.”
The simple statement leaves me feeling laid bare, like she can peer between my ribs straight into my heart. She’ll see all the wants I’ve been crushing down for months, as powerful as if I’d never tried resisting them. Gazing at her now, I can’t remember why I ever tried.
“I want to come to your family dinner.”
The yawning ache inside me sighs in relief. “Good.”
Staring at Rose like my life depends on whatever she does next, it takes me a minute to register the three young girls hovering on the other side of our table. Giggling. With their phones aimed straight at us.
I stifle a groan. My foolish pining face is going to be all over the internet again.
Rose and I have just about got our equipment packed up for the night when Nathan walks over, looking self-satisfied. So. I was right that at least some of them were saving up their meddling.
“Why, hello, Rose.” He steps closer to help her with the tablecloth she’s holding. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“I really did.” They maneuver back and forth, neatly folding the black fabric. “The bands were great, and it was a beautiful night.”
“That sunset, right? The kind meant for romantic moments with someone…special.”
Okay, so Jovie’s already informed him of everything she said tonight. At least it’s not in the group chat. Probably. I had to mute the thread. I couldn’t take a breath without my phone buzzing fresh notifications of familial amusement at my expense.
“So pretty.” Rose puts the folded tablecloth in a tote bag with the rest of the coffee cart’s supplies. “Hopefully you weren’t too busy at the medic tent.”
“Nothing serious. Sunburns and headaches, mostly. One guy came by who pre-gamed a little too hard and I funneled cups of water to him until he started to perk up, but that’s about it.”
“Pre-gaming for a concert in the park,” I mutter.
“He’s a serious music fan.” Nathan’s boyish grin shines out. “I came by to make sure you invited Rose to dinner on Sunday.”
I close the tote holding our supplies with a snap. “I thought Mom said no questions.”
“That was for the nugget. I didn’t agree to that.”
Rose laughs. “He did ask. And I told him I’d love to.”
“Excellent.” He helps me break down our folding table as if he’s part of our crew. “We might be overzealous, Rose, but that’s just because Reed’s never—”
I clear my throat, indifferent to how obvious I’m being. He’s worse.
I’ve never brought a woman to family dinner before.
It never seemed right to get someone I wasn’t serious with that involved in my family’s lives.
Maybe I didn’t want to share that much of myself.
I’ve been told once or twice I’m emotionally unavailable, and it’s true, to a degree. I’m not a heart-on-my-sleeve guy.
And now I’m taking the woman who’s only pretending to date me to meet my entire family. I should dread how badly this could go. But I can’t help myself from letting it play out.
Nathan takes my interruption in stride. “We’re just happy Reed found someone who can put up with him. His personality is a bit of an acquired taste.”
I don’t know how I’ll get through family dinner when I already want to zip his lip with my fist. He doesn’t have to look so happy when he needles me.
Rose stacks her bin on top of mine, lightly placing her hand on the small of my back. Her soft touch soothes my frustration like a cooling balm over an angry burn. It’s unsettling how easily she can alter my mood. Worse, she must know it, or she wouldn’t have tried.
“Maybe he puts up with me,” she says.
Nathan barks a laugh. “Nice try.”
Despite my protests that it’s not a three-person job, Nathan helps us carry everything to my Bronco. He talks with Rose the whole way, giving me an inkling of just how Sunday’s going to go.
“We’ve got a bet between us,” he says. “Lucy, Graham, and me.”
Give me strength.
“What’s the bet?” she asks.
“What you think of his cabin. We know he’s proud of it, but…” He shudders. “I told him not to even take you there. Said you’d be horrified.”
“Well, I love it.” She tilts her chin higher. “I think it’s cute.”
Nathan stumbles the last steps to my car. He watches her as if he might need to whip out his medic kit and check her vitals. “You do?”
“Yes. I mean, it’s…” Rose’s gaze darts to me like she’s looking for flashcards to help her out. She’s never so much as seen my cabin, so her search for descriptors makes sense. “Remote. But it’s homey. Comfortable.”
I appreciate that she’s trying to back me up, but the sly tilt to Nathan’s mouth tells me her vehement support is doing the opposite of confirming our happy relationship. Nobody’s ever called my place homey before. Maybe I can convince Nathan she’s just got a really, really low bar for comfort.
“You like it, huh?” he muses. “I thought the skylight he put in was too much, but maybe that’s just me.”
“That’s my favorite part. I like lying in bed and looking at the stars.”
I scrub one hand down my face. She’s too eager to please. And now I wish my cabin had a skylight just so I could watch the stars with her every night.
“You’ve convinced me.” Nathan’s cheeks have got to hurt from all this gloating. “The skylight was definitely the way to go.”
He lifts his eyebrows at me, brimming with more questions than Jovie. We load the gear into my Bronco, my chest tight with anticipation of him calling our bluff any minute now. But his triumphant whoop doesn’t come.
“Have a good night.” He slaps me hard on the arm. “We’ll see you two on Sunday.”
He walks down the dark street toward his truck. I swear my brother struts, preening over everything he thinks he just found out. All he really knows is she hasn’t seen my cabin. Something he advised me not to do in the first place.
A line forms between Rose’s eyebrows as she looks from his retreating truck back to me. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”
“A little bit. Nobody likes my cabin. It’s…” I gaze up into the night sky. “Less cozy, more ramshackle.”
“Oh. I shouldn’t have pretended I’d seen it. I just didn’t like him giving you such a hard time. Talking about you as if you’re not—”
I look down, and our gazes collide. Selfishly, I like her defense of me. I’d like it even more if I knew what else she was going to say. As if I’m not what, Rose?
She pulls her lower lip between her teeth for a second. “Do you think he knows now? That we’re…”
She lets that hang there, too. But I don’t want her to finish that thought. I don’t need the reminder everything between us is just for pretend, and just for the summer.
Considering how badly I want to tug her into my arms and comfort her, maybe I do need the reminder.
“He doesn’t know anything. He only thinks he does.”
Which makes him trouble. But Nathan usually is, for one reason or another. No big surprise there.
“Maybe I shouldn’t come to your parents’ house on Sunday.” She frets with her apron string, twisting it over her fingers. “I’ll say something wrong again, and they’ll figure it out. Then we’ll get all that drama you didn’t want in the first place.”
“I want you to come, Rose. I don’t care what anybody thinks.” Nothing I’m doing is to get Lucy off my back or to keep up appearances. I’d do all of this whether anyone thought we were dating or not.
She gazes up at me in the deepening dark, the tightness around her mouth growing softer the longer she stares. After a minute, her head bobs in a stout nod. “Do you want to go to the craft fair with me on Sunday?”
“Sure.” I should probably at least think for half a second before answering, but saying yes is becoming reflexive with Rose. Another problem I don’t feel much like fixing.
“Good. If we’re going to spend the evening with your family, we should probably practice first.”
She waves goodbye, walking quickly to her car parked in a space not far from mine. She drives off into the night, leaving my mind swirling with questions about what exactly she wants to practice.