Page 140 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
I hold Lila’s gaze long enough for my heart rate to climb and my hope to build. This is going well. I’m smiling. She’s smiling. But then Lila shifts and looks down, and my hope fizzles. Am I making her uncomfortable with my questions? Have I waited too long to say something new?
I wish I were better at reading her. At readinganywoman. Jocelyn always told me how terrible I was at understanding her emotions, atsensingwhat she needed without her having to explicitly tell me. Which sounds more like mind reading than understanding emotions, but what do I know? We wound up divorced so—nothing. Clearly nothing.
I clear my throat. “So, I’ve got some work you can do inside. Reviewing some reports from accounting, double checking for discrepancies. The event staff is using Olivia’s office for some bridal appointments, so if you’re okay with it, I thought you could work in here.”
She nods and moves into the office, dropping her bag onto the chair on the opposite side of my desk. “Of course. Whatever you need. But won’t I be in your way?”
“Not at all. I’ve got apple shipments going out today. I’ll be in the warehouse most of the morning.”
Something flashes behind her eyes, and her shoulders drop the tiniest bit, almost like she’s disappointed we won’t be working in the same space. “All right.”
I pull out the reports I need her to review and step away, making way for her to circle around the desk and settle into my chair. She pulls the reports closer as I move to the door.
Nerves prickle along my spine.Ask her now. Just do it.
“Lila,” I say, pausing with one hand on the door jamb. I can do this.Eye contact. Be vulnerable.“Would you like to have lunch with me today? I was thinking we could take a picnic out to the orchard.”
Her eyes widen the slightest bit, but she immediately smiles. “Okay. Sure.”
“Good. Great. I’ll be back at eleven-thirty to pick you up.”
I make my way out of my office, a lightness in my step that I haven’t felt in ages. For all that I have to get done today, I shouldn’t be this excited about taking a lunch break at all, much less a leisurely picnic out in the orchard, but I can’t bring myself to truly care. Because Lila said yes to lunch. And even looked excited about it. Maybe excited?
I swing by my parents’ house to pick up my dad before heading to the warehouse. Dad is almost entirely retired—a circumstance forced by the stroke he had a few years back. But when he feels up to it, he still likes to do a quality check on the apples before they’re shipped out.
Dad’s still finishing up his breakfast, so I lean against the counter in the kitchen, scrolling through my email while I wait. My eyes catch on the reunion invite from Jocelyn, but I keep on scrolling. Hopefully Lila has responded by now, and Jocelyn has finally gotten the message.
“What are you frowning about over there?” Mom says, looking up from the dishwasher she’s loading.
“Ah, nothing. Just—emails.”
“Hmm. Nice lie. Very convincing.”
I roll my eyes. Mom always has been annoyingly intuitive. I shove my phone into my pocket and cross my arms. “Jocelyn is throwing the high school reunion happening in a couple of weeks.”
Mom’s eyebrows go up. “Ah. And you’re invited.”
I nod.
“And you don’t want to go.”
“Definitely not. She’ll be there. And she’s being weird about making sure I’m there too. Why does she care so much?”
Mom shrugs. “Maybe she wants you to have a good time. Maybe she’s ready to let things go so you can both move on.”
“Sure. And maybe Flint will win an Oscar for the time travel movie he filmed last year.”
Mom presses her lips together, trying and failing to hold back her smile. “You be nice. Not every movie can be a hit.” She closes the dishwasher and dries her hands, then turns to face me fully. “You really think Jocelyn is up to something?”
“I have no idea. Regardless, I don’t really feel like risking it.”
“Want to know what I think?” Mom mirrors my stance, leaning against the counter with her arms folded.
“Always.”
“I think Jocelyn thought you’d fight for her. She thought you’d come groveling back. Then you didn’t. You finally gave her reason to question the power she thinks she has over you.”
“She doesn’t have power over me.” Relief pushes through me as I say the words, because I finally know they’re true.
