Page 75 of I Love You in French

“You’re a singer.”

“And the art—”

“You’re an artist.”

“And the food—”

“You’re a foodie.”

I take a breath because she is not going to let me give anything other than a from-the-heart answer. “Not many good memories there, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry for that,” she whispers. “It feels like Paris should be magical for everyone. I recognize that doesn’t make it true. Of course you feel that way.” Her hand is wrapped around my arm, smoothing small circles over my coat.

“Sparrow, were you hoping my answer was different because you want to love Paris so much or because you want me to love Paris as much as you think you do?”

Her eyes dance back and forth between mine again as we hold each other’s gaze.“I don’t know,” she finally sighs. I want to kiss away the worry hovering near her eyes.“Rafe, I understand if you say no. I won’t ask you to do something that would be hurtful for you. But someday, if you ever feel like you could, will you go to Paris with me?”

For a second, I stop breathing. Not because it hurts to think about returning to Paris, but because, for the first time in years, returning actually sounds like something I would want to do—as long as Sparrow is with me. She misinterprets the silence.

“I mean, of course, you don’t have to,” she says as she takes a tiny step back, holding her head up to try to hide any disappointment. “It’s clear that it wasn’t a place that felt good for you.” She doesn’t want to pressure me, and it makes me love her more.

Lifting her face up by cradling her jaw in my hand, I meet her gaze. I nod briefly. “True. But I have a feeling it would be different now. And I need you to know I’ll go anywhere with you.” And I mean it.

“I hear Paris is lovely in the spring?” she asks, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

I grin. “Yes, it is. Grey, looks like we’ll need that book on Paris for my girl. We’ve got a trip to plan.”

Sparrow kisses my cheek before giving a little squeal. Looks like the image I had of picturing her in Paris will come true after all.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sparrow

I’ve been waiting to find out if our shop is going to be featured in The Seacoast Gazette magazine. I sure hope so. We’ve been working so hard to get everything in order, and I just know my parents would be proud. We’re finally doing what my father and I planned, and we’re honoring my mother in the process.

I’m wrapping up some online orders we launched just last week when I hear a bang on the window. I look up to find Gladys, her nose pressed almost fully to the window, waving with one hand and frantically tapping the glass with the other. Seeing that I’ve noticed her, she holds up her phone and yells, “He’s wearing those jeans again!” She smiles and then rushes past the store. I shake my head at her antics. I’m going to have to take that phone from her soon.

Not two minutes later, another knock is at the door. I lift my eyes to see Rafe. My cheeks instantly warm, my body continuously reminding me that I’ll never get enough of him. I slowly walk to the door, creating a moment where I almost feel like Rachel in the coffee shop, walking toward Ross to let him in. Rafe patiently waits as I walk toward him, the emotion on his face so open and genuine I can hardly breathe. I unlock the top lock, the sound of it opening so satisfying. And as I reach for the bottom lock, we make eye contact.

My heart hammers. I lick my lips and see how he traces the movement, a grin causing his dimple to make an appearance. He puts his hand on the doorknob, and we go to turn it at the same time. As soon I open it for him, he steps in and takes me in his arms.

“You okay?”he asks me. Darn his kind and considerate ways.“I could sing to you,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Ha!” I say a little too loudly, knowing full well that singing would lead to other things.

“Sugar, did you see the news?”

I’m too distracted by thoughts of his mouth to make out what he’s saying. I lean back enough to meet his gaze, his forest eyes full of sunlight. I shake my head as he pulls a newspaper from his back pocket. He grabs my hand with his free one, and we walk over to the bar. The same place he sat the first day we met.

Opening the paper to page ten, I see a spread that I didn’t realize until now I’ve been waiting to see for a very long time. The newspaper features Lily and me outside of the shop. There’s a picture of me rolling croissants, and one of Lily melting chocolate, and lastly, an image of me in my apron holding a picture of my parents.

My hand covers my mouth as I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. And there, right at the top, is the headline: BIRCH BOROUGH’S FINEST LOOKS LIKE SPARROW’S BERET

I can’t even read the article because my eyes are swimming. “We did it,” I whisper. Looking at Rafe, I see his smile is as wide as my own. I throw my arms around him and jump into his arms. “We did it!” Now I’m squealing and yelling and laughing. “Lily! I have to call Lily!”

“I already did. She’s on her way.”

I grin at how adorable and thoughtful he is. I’m back to covering my face with my hands in disbelief. This changes everything. The website is featured. There are directives on how to order online. This goes out to the whole Seacoast area and beyond. There’s no way this isn’t the step that we needed to get this business to the next level. Soon, even more people will be traveling here or ordering maple croissants and a piece of my mother’s legacy.

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