Page 153 of One Touch

“And? The rubber farm?”

“Bouncy,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. “Very bouncy indeed.”

I’d been devouring novels since I got back to town. I’d even—shock horror—started reading historical romance. It was pretty much impossible not to with a new season of Bridgerton out.

“Looks like someone’s romance addiction is back in full force.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Guilty as charged.”

Just then, the bell above the door chimed, and in walked Marge and Mary-Beth. Marge swept into the store in a pink cowboy jacket, a riot of bubblegum color adorned with enough rhinestones to make a disco ball jealous. Her legs were clad in form-fitting dark denim jeans, tucked into a pair of pink cowboy boots that matched her jacket perfectly. The boots’ heels added an extra inch or two to her already commanding presence.Accessories were, of course, abundant. Multiple rings adorned her fingers, each one catching the light with every animated gesture. A pair of oversized hoop earrings swung from her ears, and a delicate gold pen hung from a chain around her neck – ever ready for an impromptu autograph session.

“Well, hello there, sugar,” she said, smiling at me.

“Marge!” I exclaimed, rushing over to greet her with a warm hug. “Welcome to Happy Ever Affogato!”

“Lily, darlin’,” Marge drawled, kissing both my cheeks. “This place is absolutely charming. I can see why you left the big city behind.” She breathed in deeply. “Why does it smell so divine in here? Aha!” She eyed the coffee machine. “Mystery solved.”

There was an excited murmur as the customers in the shop chatted about Marge’s arrival.

“Mind ifImake the coffees?” Mary-Beth asked, rolling up her sleeves. “I worked as a barista in college, and I miss it. Nothing quite like yanking a handle and grinding some beans.”

“Honey, are we still talking about coffee?” Marge asked. “Speaking of yanking and grinding, how are things going with Ethan, Lily?”

I laughed, trying to hide my blush. “Things are . . . good.”

Good. It was the understatement of the century.

“Good?” Marge pressed, her eyes twinkling. “I need more than that, bunny rabbit. I need the juicy details.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Marge, I can’t dish at work.”

“Later then. We’ll go for cocktails. Bluehaven Beach has cocktails, right?”

“We have a diner.”

“Isn’t this place just adorable?” Marge cooed, pulling out her notebook.

“Ethan’s sister, Ida, runs the place.”

In the background, I heard MB enthusiastically loading the bean hopper before grinding what sounded like far too many beans.

Marge scribbled furiously. “Well, of course she does.”

“Marge?”

“Just making sure that I get all this down. I need my next book to be as true to life as possible.”

I felt the blush returning to my cheek. “Your next book?”

“Got to be careful around writers,” Marge said, “they’re always listening.”

***

An hour or so later, when Marge and Mary-Beth were sufficiently caffeinated, the event began. The place was packed. As well as lots of avid Marge Statten fans, it felt like nearly half the town was here.

Elara and Ida. Connie and Cole. Susie had picked up Ava early from school with special permission, and I had instructed her to cover Ava’s ears if anything saucy was said. Even Jenna had shown up. She clutched a copy of all three books in the Lavender Farms series. I didn’t know she was a fan.

It struck me thatIwas the reason that all these wonderful people had fallen in love with romance. Well, I guess the writers also hadsomethingto do with it, but I’d been the one recommending and selling the books. I felt a rush of pride.

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