12. Arden
12
ARDEN
I survey the scene at Pin-Up Lanes. Retro tunes play overhead, and a stream of people smile and toast, having a good time.
My friend Finley from the next town over is here, and she and her new guy Tom are bowling. I stroll by her lane, tapping her on the shoulder after she finishes her turn.
“Hey, you. How’s your show going?” Finley’s a TV comedy writer.
“I have more than one hundred viewers, so I'd say it’s going better than my last show,” she says, her light blue eyes twinkling.
“Oh, please. I’m sure you had more than that.”
“I wouldn't be too sure about that,” she says dryly.
“Well, I’m glad the new one is doing better then.” I tip my forehead in Tom’s direction. “And how’s the new man?”
Her grin is infectious. “He makes me laugh and he makes me happy. And, well, I kind of can’t take my hands off him.”
I smile. “I suppose that’s how it should be.”
“I’m a big advocate of wanting to get your hands on the man you like.”
We catch up briefly on her life, when Tom comes over after taking his turn. He pecks a kiss on her cheek and says hello.
“You guys look like you’re having fun, so I’ll let you keep it up.”
I wander past the crowds, and find Vanessa at the bar.
“I’d say your Celebrate Summer Party is a huge hit,” I tell Vanessa from my perch at the bar, as I scan the crowd for Gabe. My purse is in Vanessa’s back room. My list is tucked safely inside a book in the bag. My plan is solid.
“Thank you. I’m pretty damn proud of this event, myself. Can’t believe I pulled it off.”
“I can. You’re kickass at everything you do. Do I need to remind you of how we used to wander past this bowling alley when it was that dilapidated, lamely named ‘County Lanes’? It smelled like bacon grease and half the lanes were broken, and you said, ‘I’m going to fix that up and add some style.’”
Vanessa laughs, and I swear the memory of her determined teenage self flickers in her eyes. “I loved bowling and retro clothes as a kid. I guess it just worked out.”
“It didn’t just work out . You made it happen.”
She lifts a glass and toasts. “To us. The Kickass Girls of Lucky Falls,” she says, using the name we bestowed on our trio when we were younger. “Well, minus one, but Perri’s surely out kicking ass and taking names.”
“And she’s doing that literally,” I say, raising my Riesling and clinking it to Vanessa’s water glass.
I take a drink of the crisp wine. I’ve deemed it the ideal pairing for going out on a limb. It’s fresh and bright, with an effervescent aftertaste. It’s ready to show off its flavors.
I’m ready too.
Tonight is a perfect night for a proposal. Gabe has finished his shift, he’s relaxed, and we’ve already planned to play a game or two here at the event. The Celebrate Summer fundraiser benefits the first responders in the county—the police, firefighters, and paramedics who have been tasked with harder than normal work thanks to the fires that raged for days in vineyards and across once lush, rolling green hills. That’s why the bowling alley, complete with karaoke bar, darts, pool tables, and twenty lanes, is stuffed to the gills. The first responders here have earned so much well-deserved support.
“You can’t beat the view tonight,” Vanessa says, her eyes drifting over the crowd and finding the pack of men from the station at lane twenty, including Gabe, Jackson, Charlie, and Perri’s brother, Shaw. Vanessa’s gaze lingers on Shaw for a beat longer than usual. Maybe two beats longer, come to think of it.
I shoot her a curious stare. “Are you checking out the Shaw view?”
She scoffs then grabs a glass of water and downs a gulp. “No way. I was just talking about all of them. They’re all the reason fireman calendars and fireman fantasies exist, right?”
I decide to let the Shaw issue go for tonight—I don’t need to give her the inquisition on a stare that lasted a little longer than usual. “We do seem to possess an embarrassment of riches in the hot fireman department. I bet Guinness World Records would like to know what we’ve accomplished in our little town.”
She wiggles her dark eyebrows and motions for me to inch closer as the music shifts to Elvis Presley. “Want to know why we have so many hotties here?” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I planted seeds. Hot fireman seeds.”
“And now they grow from the fields,” I say, laughing, as Gabe raises a hand from across the alley and waves at me.
My stomach flips.
Stupid stomach.
It’s just a wave.
Why the hell is my stomach flipping?
I wave back, rehearsing the words that I want to say to him later. I’ve mapped it all out.
So I have this idea . . .
I’d like to ask for your help . . .
How would you feel about doing . . .?
Vanessa drums her fingers on the bar. “And now I can ask you the same question. Are you checking out the view of Gabe? Looks like you’re giving him a very thorough undressing right now.”
I snap my gaze away from the hottie. I mean, my friend. My friend. Only my friend. “I am not disrobing him.”
Vanessa rolls her brown eyes. “You kill me, girl. I love how you deny it.” She raises her pitch, imitating me, evidently. “ Oh, we’re just friends. Oh, he’s my bowling partner. ” She snorts and goes back to her own voice. “More like the man you’ve been hanging out with for the last year, secretly staring at and imagining naked the whole time.”
“I do not secretly stare at him.” Sure, Gabe is so handsome it’s nearly criminal, and admittedly, I have experienced a fair share of tingles and shivers when he’s accidentally touched me. But our friendship is what matters most.
“True. You don’t secretly stare. You stare at him in public.”
“I don’t do that at all. I’m simply attentive. To all my friends.”
She snorts. “That’s a good one.”
“But it’s true,” I say, perhaps to remind myself of my plan.
I’m going to ask him for help as a friend, and only as a friend. I made a promise to myself the day David ditched me—no more dalliances with unworthy men. Not that Gabe is unworthy, but he does like the ladies, and I don’t want to be someone’s “nice” comparison point ever again. But I very much want to know what naughty things I might like, and I want to learn that without making a fool of myself when I have no idea what goes where in what position, or even what to say to get myself in that position in the first place. But I haven’t asked Gabe yet, so I don’t want to say a word to anyone else.
Besides, there’s nothing to share. This is only a little exercise between pals. “Just because we hang out doesn't mean we’re going to do anything more. A man and a woman can be friends, thank you very much.”
Vanessa sets her glass on the bar. “You might see it that way, but he’s always looking at you like he wants you.”
I startle at her comment, my skin buzzing, betraying my brain. But I keep my focus tight. There is no room for a Gabe attraction in my life. None at all. “You’re crazy. He doesn’t look at me like that.”
“You’re crazy, because yes, he does.”
I shake my head, wishing the idea didn’t delight some part of me. “We’re friends. It’s not like that.”
“That’s why your cheeks are all red and flushed.”
I raise a hand to touch my cheek. Maybe it’s a little warm in here. “I can be friends with a good-looking man and not jump his bones.”
“If you insist.” She nods toward the other side of the bar. “I need to go check on the patrons.”
“Do you mind if I pop into your back room?” I ask. “I need to have a private conversation with someone.”
She arches a curious brow. “And who would that be?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, trying to be light.
Vanessa crosses her arms. “No. You can’t borrow my back room.”
“Oh, c’mon. Why not?”
“Because friends don’t keep secrets about who they’re hosting private meetings with in other friends’ back rooms.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “It’s Gabe. Okay?”
She smirks, giving me the most knowing smile she’s ever given me. “Are you going to plant hot fireman seeds with him?”
I decide to deflect with wordplay. “If anyone would be planting seeds, I’d think it’d be him.”
Her jaw drops.
“But the answer is no. I just need to talk to him about something. I’ll update you later.”
She shoots me a sharp stare. “You better. Use of my back room includes giving me a detailed briefing.”
“I promise.”
“Then my back room is your back room.”