Page 41 of If Only In Our Dreams

“Also—did you really think I wasn’t going to bring up the sledding?” she teased. There was a dark lock of hair curling around her ear from where it’d slipped free of her updo. I reached out to tuck it behind her ear, and she smiled gratefully, though that didn’t stop her from giving me more shit. “Your brothers are in a tizzy about it. Everyone is.”

“It’s been three days. How can that possibly be?”

“I have my ways,” she tapped her nose. “The whole town’s talking about it.”

“No, they aren’t.”

“They are.” Her eyes danced.

“How couldthe whole townpossibly know?” I glared at her. “Unless…someone told them?” Like Jason at the general store. Jesus fuck, he had a mouth on him. And I didn’t mean that in a sexy way.

“I may haveaccidentallylet slip to Becca that you have a soft spot for him…”

“Oh lord.”

“Who was talking to Baxter about it…”

“No.”

“When he was picking up his bulk order of cocoa from?—”

“Jason.” Jesus fuck. That explained all the weird looks I’d been getting since Wednesday. And also the odd “congratulations” that had been tossed left and right at me as I walked down Main Street to get my daily dose of caffeine before my shift every day.

“What do they think is going on?” I asked, eyebrow twitching.

“Everyone in Belleville is incredibly happy that you’re inlove, Ben.” Mama reached out to pat my hand. “There’s no need to look so offended.”

“I’m not in love—” I countered, even though that felt like a lie. “I just…I mean.” My cheeks were bright red. “How could I be in love? That would make it love at first sight. Which only exists in books, not real life.” I laughed, because that felt ridiculous, and also horribly on the nose. I was an author. I wrote about these things, but I’d never once thought they could be real.

“I’ve never even seen you have a boyfriend, Benjamin.” Mama’s voice grew kinder. “Never seen you so much asglanceat another person. And yet…”

Ugh.

Why was she doing this to me?

“And yet, here you are…organizing a sledding expedition for our fancy-little-city-visitor. Going out of your way to interact with him. Buying him dinner, dressing him in your clothing?—”

“I get it—” I cut her off, cheeks hot. “I get it.”

At least she hadn’t seen how giddy I was to hop onto the back of his sled. I’d never hear the end of it.

“He’s only in town for the holidays,” I added, trying to douse water over the flames of her excitement. “It’s not like it means anything. It’s casual flirtation. That’s all.”

“If I know you, Ben—” Mama squeezed my hand tight. “And I do. I birthed you after all?—”

“Jesus.”Why did she always bring that up?

“Then I know nothing you’ve ever done has ever been casual.”

Mama’s words followed me around the rest of the night. When I got home I thanked Becca, my niece, for babysitting, slipped her an extra twenty—because I knew she was saving up to buy a car—and settled onto my couch with a depressed sigh.

The grandfather clock ticked and ticked and ticked.

Annoyingly loud.

Distracting.

Why the hell had I bought a grandfather clock?

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