Page 39 of The Dating Pact

The July Fourth holiday weekend came and went with the usual fanfare of fireworks and a busy morning at the farmers market, but my sister and I had a date at Gray’s Candy Shop. The bell above the door tinkled when I opened it, and Sabrina audibly gasped at the scene in front of her. Truth be told, each time I entered Jude’s family’s store, I had to rein in my excitement. It was like something straight out of the 1950s. Probably because it hadn’t changed since it first opened two generations ago, with its black-and-white checkered tile floor and blue walls.

“It smells amazing in here,” Sabrina exclaimed after a deep breath. The scents of sugar, caramel, and vanilla lingered in the air. She spun in a circle, taking in the candy, the quirky style, the one-of-a-kind packaging. It was fun and brought in lots of people. Even now, customers milled about, laughing and filling up their bags, weighing them on the old-school scales hanging from the ceiling.

The quaint store was filled with rows of old-fashioned candy jars. Chocolates, each perfectly formed and drizzled with various toppings, took up one entire wall. Another held nostalgic candies like saltwater taffy, Pop Rocks, Bottle Caps, and hard candies grandmas always kept in misshapen homemade dishes in their living rooms.

Sabrina pointed to the chocolate-dipped strawberries. “Ooh. Everyone could get a little box of these. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure how long they’d last, or if they’d need to be refrigerated,” I said, snagging a little plastic bag to fill with peach rings. While we were here to scout favors for her wedding, that didn’t stop my gaze from coasting around the store for Jude. He didn’t often work here, but I’d texted to see if he’d be in, and if not, could he meet us. He, of course, agreed.

My sister made a slow circuit of the store, stopping occasionally to inspect the treats. She held up a candy necklace, brows raised at me as she laughed. She used to love candy necklaces. I shrugged. “Why not?”

“No, I couldn’t. People wouldn’t like them.”

“So what?” Jude’s voice sounded behind us, and we both pivoted to find him leaning against the door to the back. “It’s your wedding. You do what you want.”

I agreed, aiming a peach ring in his direction. “Exactly. It’s your wedding. If you want to give away candy necklaces and fireballs as your favors, you do that.”

Jude smiled, and I stuffed the whole peach ring into my mouth, smiling back at him.

“How’s it going?” he asked me.

I answered midchew. “It’s going.”

“Have you?—”

Sabrina interrupted him. “Jude, I love this store!” She held on to his shoulders, her eyes wide. “Seriously, do you love your job or what?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty great.”

“I think I could live here.”

“You’re welcome to,” he said, moving to stand next to me, his arm brushing mine. “Not much furniture to speak of, though.”

“I could lay my head down on a pillow of cotton candy. It’s fine.”

He grinned, glancing at me before telling her, “Go ahead and look around. Let me know if you have any questions about anything.” After she flounced away, he headed behind the counter to find a pad of paper and a pen. “Remind me of the wedding date again.”

“August fourth.”

He jotted it down in his tiny block handwriting then rested his forearms on the counter, finally bringing his eyes up to mine. “How’ve you been?”

“All right. Busy.” I spent summers harvesting and selling a lot of produce, not only with my co-op, but to some smaller grocers who featured local produce. My days were sunup to sundown. “How ’bout you?”

He stopped gnawing on the cap of his pen to answer a question from the worker who’d made a mistake on the iPad while ringing up a customer. He quickly fixed the error and tossed a smile to the middle-aged couple purchasing a few bags of candy before making his way back to me, the pen behind his ear. He drummed his fingers on the glass counter. “I, uh…have a date on Thursday.”

My breath left me like I’d been punched in the gut, and I froze with a peach ring halfway to my mouth. I only forced myself to breathe and move when the arrow wrinkle appeared between Jude’s brows. “Wow.” I blinked. “That—good for you.”

He didn’t seem to believe me, so I tried again.

“That’s really great. Is it with Melissa? Is it because of all my tips? I told you I’d get you laid.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I squeezed my eyes shut as if I could take them back. Erase the last three seconds.

I’d certainly gotten him laid. And we weren’t supposed to be talking about it.

“Scratch that,” I mumbled, opening one eye and then the other in time for him to snatch the peach ring out of my hand. He chewed it, lips pressed tightly together as if attempting not to laugh at me.

“You’re the worst,” I muttered, shoving another peach ring into my mouth.

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