Page 116 of Friends Don't Kiss

Declan squints. “Pardon?”

“I’m thinking of the potential for graffiti.” His hands start making rolling motions. “What I’m getting at is, should we budget for… whatever product is used to remove graffiti?”

Declan shrugs. “We own a total of three stop signs. The other two are state property—they’re on a state route. So… I don’t know.” He turns to Nathaniel.

All eyes turn to Nathaniel, who shrugs. “Coupla magic erasers should do.”

Next to me, Maddie huffs. “This isn’t good.”

“A’right, next on the agenda is Laskin. Lynn?” Colton says.

A collective sigh and the buzz of muffled conversations take over as we move onto a happier topic. “Laskin?” Chloe asks, leaning over. “Is that the Christmas fair?”

“Lynn, why don’t you take this,” Colton says in the mic as I nod to Chloe. We both listen up, as this is when the logistics will be finalized.

I’m tasked with staffing the hot chocolate hut, Chloe gets to coordinate the food tent with Justin, while Alex will be in charge of social media for the whole event. Other people will be baking goods and selling them to profit Emerald Creek’s various sports teams.

The horse parade will be coordinated by Craig, Lynn’s husband. Various other events are discussed, but I’m not paying attention to the content anymore.

The delivery is so much more… palatable. Colton speeds people kindly to move the meeting forward, has a nice word to make them feel awesome, shuts down Owen’s nonsense with a “who moves to table this?” He even shuts down the usual bickering over the ribbon’s shade of red on Town Hall’s six-foot wreath with a “whatever you guys decide will be awesome” and a gavel tap to end all gavel taps.

Grace taps my shoulder from her seat behind me and leans forward. “Who is this man and what have you done with my brother?” she whispers.

Willow turns back to answer her. “She’s demonstrated to him the power of patience and persistence.”

My heart flutters at this, and while I feel a physical pull toward Colton at her words, I lean over to Willow to whisper, “By the way, you and I never sorted out your role in that dating app scheme.”

“Nothing to sort out, hun. Look.” She tilts her chin toward Colton. The way his shoulders roll under his flannel as he fidgets with a sheet of paper and the intensity of his dark gaze scanning the audience bring all kinds of inappropriate thoughts to my mind as he asks the most innocent questions.

“A’right, who’s taking over the hearthsong this year?” he asks.

I pretend to be fascinated by the question, not the man. “Who usually does that?” I ask Willow, which gets me a snort and a shoulder-bumpNice try.

Several voices murmur, until Louise stands up. “I will, if no one else volunteers,” she almost screeches. It’s hard to picture her singing or coordinating people. Colton visibly winces and pretends to look everywhere but in her direction. “Anyone?” he asks.

“I can do that,” a very familiar voice sounds a few rows behind me. I feel my eyes widen as my gaze latches onto Colton.Nigel?I mouth. He glances at me and with a smirk says, “Luke, you’re it. Check in with Ms. Angela after the meeting.”

Maddie audibly sighs. “I don’t know who this Luke is, but it can’t be worse than Louise.”

I go to turn around and check out my mystery voice on the phone, and just as I do, I catch Emma turning around in her chair, all flushed. “What’s up with her?” I ask Chloe.

She shrugs. “No idea.”

I lean over Chloe and tap on Emma’s arm. “Who’s this guy?” I ask her.

“No idea. Why?”

“I thought he lived in Prattsville.”

“No, he…” she starts, then catches herself. “If he volunteered, he must live here. Why don’t you ask Colton? And what makes you think he lives in Prattsville?”

I’m saved from answering her questions by the arrival of Willow, who asks Maddie to “slide down so I can sit with my peeps.”

“We need someone to make waffles,” Lynn is saying. “Alex, are you and Chris up for that?”

Alex nods. “Sure, we can do that. Happy to coordinate with others.”

Millie stands. “Let’s have a hot chocolate/waffle/coffee hut!” she exclaims from the back of the room.

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