Page 13 of Summer Showdown
"Starving, actually," she admitted. "I skipped lunch."
We filled our plates with burgers and various potluck sides, then found a spot at one of the picnic tables. I noticed several people watching us with undisguised interest, and Zoe Blake discreetly taking photos from across the square.
"We have an audience," I murmured to Lark as we sat down.
"I noticed," she replied, taking a bite of her burger. After swallowing, she added, "This is actually really good."
"Tyler may lack social skills, but he knows his way around a grill," I agreed.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Lark asked, "So what's the story with the mayor and Edna? Rivals turned lovers?"
I smiled, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "It's quite the Wintervale legend. Edna inherited a claim to the property that's now the Evergreen Inn from her uncle, Cyrus Barrington. She wanted to turn it into a cat sanctuary. Theodore, who was already mayor, had plans to develop it into a commercial property to boost the town's economy."
"Let me guess—they fought over it for years?"
"Decades," I confirmed. "The property sat empty while they battled it out in court, in town meetings, anywhere they could. Then last winter, Bailey and Jacob got involved in the legal dispute, circumstances threw them all together during a snowstorm, and somehow, in the middle of all that... Theodore and Edna fell in love."
Lark's eyes widened. "That's actually kind of romantic."
"Wintervale has that effect on people," I said with a shrug. "Something in the water, maybe."
A bark interrupted our conversation as Bramble, the scruffy black terrier that had become the inn's unofficial mascot, darted under our table. Before either of us could react, he had snatched a hot dog from Lark's plate and taken off across the grass.
"Hey!" Lark exclaimed, half-rising from her seat.
I burst out laughing at her indignant expression. "That's Bramble. He belongs to the inn—or rather, the inn belongs to him, if you ask him."
To my surprise, Lark started laughing too—not the polite, restrained chuckle I might have expected, but a genuine, unreserved laugh that transformed her face completely. The sound was infectious, and I found myself laughing harder in response.
"The look on your face," I managed between chuckles.
"The look on the dog's face," she countered, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "He knew exactly what he was doing!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Zoe snapping another photo, capturing our shared laughter. For a moment, the pretense fell away—we weren't a corporate lawyer and a small-town teacher playing a part, just two people enjoying a genuine moment of connection.
After dinner, the town square transformed as the fairy lights came on and someone set up speakers for music. A space was cleared for dancing, and couples began to drift toward it.
"Want to show these people how it's done?" I asked, nodding toward the impromptu dance floor.
Lark hesitated. "I'm not much of a dancer."
"Neither am I," I admitted. "But that's never stopped anyone in Wintervale."
Before she could answer, someone announced a beanbag toss competition on the other side of the square.
"Actually," Lark said, her eyes lighting up with interest, "that sounds more my speed."
I raised an eyebrow. "Competitive, are we?"
"I didn't get where I am by shying away from competition," she replied with a smile that held a hint of challenge.
The beanbag toss tournament was already forming teams when we arrived. Lark and I signed up together, facing off against Tyler and his girlfriend in the first round.
"Rules are simple," the organizer explained. "Take turns tossing. Three points if it goes in the hole, one point if it lands on the board. First team to twenty-one wins."
Lark stepped up to the line, a determined set to her jaw that I found unexpectedly attractive. She took careful aim, released the beanbag with a smooth motion, and landed it squarely in the hole.
"Three points," the scorekeeper called.
