Page 19 of I Love a Good Challenge

“You were in public! If you didn’t want to be noticed, you shouldn’t have been bending over . . .” She trails off, pointing at Rafe. “I got photos of him unloading instruments last year and sent them to Rory, and we all see how she felt about those benefits.”

Rafe clears his throat and shakes out his hands in a French-turned-American way, as if he’s willing all of this to be a memory—quickly.

Gladys continues to protest. “I don’t post them. I just send them to people who may appreciate the views. I’m an artist myself, you know. And if you’re embarrassed about the human form, talk to God about it.” She quirks her eyebrows, and I’m beginning to wonder how much influence she’s had on Lily’s mannerisms.

This conversation is quickly moving in a direction I hadn’t anticipated. I choke on the air and start to pace, a hand moving through my hair.

“Gladys, let’s go get a coffee. Lord knows I could use it. C’est parti!” Rafe mercifully interrupts and directs her toward Sparrow’s Beret just down the street.

I’m left standing on the sidewalk, mortified. Something in me hopes there will be a glitch, and the photo she captured will just happen to disappear from Gladys’ photo library. But I suspect the damage has already been done. I’ll probably see her collection pop up in a town calendar to raise money for some bridge repair or something soon. How did I end up here again?

All I know is that ever since Lily’s little dare at the diner the other night, my insides feel like they’re on fire. The way she challenged me and the memory of her nearness makes me think I’ll be lucky not to have permanent dark spots under my eyes. The fact that she would even dare try running me out of this town is so frustrating that I feel like my hair could stand up on its own without any product.

She’s the woman who told me everything we used to have was one-sided. The sound of her voice still keeps me up at night. Her eyes have branded me. I’m undone in her presence, and I wonder if she realizes the effect she continues to exert over me. Lily has “bewitched me, body and soul,” and I know there’s nothing I can do about it.

She’s also the woman currently walking across the street with a basket full of chocolate bunnies (handmade by her, no doubt) like she’s an Easter fairy and not the woman who shattered my heart and let the pieces blow away in the wind. I still haven’t found all of them.

The moment she spots me—looking like a crazed man as I stare at her, I’m sure—feels like a punch in the ribs. She pauses then closes her eyes. The sharp rise and fall of her chest is obvious as she takes a deep breath. When she opens her eyes again, a newfound determination is in her step.

I rise a little taller and wait for the impact when she’s within a few feet of me. There’s an otherworldly pull between us, and the closer she gets, the more I feel my temperature rising—once caused by love, now by the devastation of what I lost.

“George,” she says crisply.

“Lily.”

She’s wearing a black boatneck striped shirt beneath a charcoal cardigan, the tops of her shoulders peeking out and tormenting me as her creamy skin begs to be touched, the spot where her neck and shoulder meet taunting me thoroughly. A frigid breeze moves around us, and for the first time in my life, as I watch it circle through the ends of her hair, shifting it to the front and then to the sides, I’m jealous of the wind.

“Gladys was here,” I say. She tenses, and I know she’s already heard all about it.

“Yes, she was . . . that is, I saw her. I think you should expect to be asked to feature in her town calendar for the new year.”

Ah, so there is a calendar. I’m satisfied that I was right. The delicate shade of pink on Lily’s cheeks is also very satisfying.

“If I’m here in the new year, of course,” I add. I have no intention of losing Lily’s challenges, but the reality is that it’s too much fun not to give her back a bit of fire for all the sparks she sends me.

“Be lucky you dodged a bullet, then. Edgar still hasn’t recovered from Gladys trying to make him take his shirt off for last year’s calendar. Raising money for charity never looked so good—or scared.” She grins.

Everything in me is begging me not to ask, but I know we can’t move on from this without clarification. “Edgar?” I ask, but her pleased squint into the air tells me I didn’t keep it as cool as I had hoped.

“He owns the boxing studio, In the Ring, down the way.”

I nod and look away casually, determined not to look at her, even though I want to analyze every aspect of this conversation into next week. Something in her tone tells me there’s more to their story, and it may fuel a future bout of insomnia. But I can’t help turning back to her a moment later, mouth already open for a follow-up question.

Lily must sense this as she tilts her chin up, a look I don’t like in her eyes. “I challenge you not to ask me about him.”

She’s keeping me from information, and as someone with an investigative personality, she knows I’ll press for the details. Not willing to give in to my curiosity no matter how much it’s grating on me, I decide to stick with a potentially safer question. “You . . . box?”

Lily turns toward me, a hand on her hip. A chocolate bunny almost catapults from the basket with the force of her pivot. Whispers of a conversation we once had invade my brain, but with her so near, I can’t recall the details. Somehow, it feels important that she started boxing.

“Yes, I box. I could take you, that’s for sure.”

I scoff a bit, more to irritate her, but I’m also instantly frustrated by what the image of her and me in a boxing ring is doing to my insides. Another thing to haunt me. “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see? I’ll take you here and now if you want me to prove it.”

“Is this one of your challenges?” I counter.

Her chest is rising and falling in such a quick rhythm that I almost want to check her pulse, but I know if I touch her right now, it will hurt me more than it would ever hurt her.

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