Page 89 of More Than Words
ChapterTwenty-Two
Delaney
That morning, I’d come up with a dozen different ways to get out of it.
And then promptly rejected them all.
Besides, getting out of the shop and my tiny apartment would do me good.I knew that.
I’d been avoiding…well, everyone and everything since Ethan and I blew up.
I knew I couldn’t hide forever.
Still, it wasn’t going to be easy to be at a town-wide fundraising event with every eye on me and Ethan.And it wouldn’t just be Tilley Beckett sticking her nose into our business.
It would be everyone.
There was no way that the news of our breakup hadn’t traveled all around town by now.I hadn’t missed the whispers and knowing glances.
If there had been any way to get out of it, I would have.
“Delaney!There you are!”Tilley called out moments after I stepped inside the community hall.She swept across the old wood floor in a flurry of shawls.She waved her clipboard in the air.“Perfect timing.I need one more set of hands sorting and tagging the new donations.Are you okay with that?”
I didn’t have a chance to answer, not that it would have mattered.Tilley always had her own agenda; everyone just kind of went along with it, and somehow things always got done.
“Great!”She grabbed my arm, spinning me around.“Ethan, dear!I found you a partner.You’re with Delaney.”
I blinked.What?
In a town full of people, what were the odds I would get paired up in a fundraiser with Ethan Lyons?It was a rhetorical question, because the answer was currently smiling and fluttering her eyelashes at me expectantly.
“Is that okay, Delaney?”
“Of course.”I put the most neutral expression on my face that I could manage.“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Great.”Tilley took my elbow and led me over to where Ethan was surrounded by what looked like dozens of boxes of jackets and other items of clothing.“Ethan can fill you in on what needs to be done.”She gave me a wink.“Have fun, you two.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice low.“I didn’t know you’d volunteered for this, too.”
I nodded.“Anything for the community, right?”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.“Right.”
“So,” I picked up a pair of socks, “what are we doing here?”
With the work as a buffer between everything we weren’t saying to each other, Ethan took a few minutes to explain the simple task of sorting the socks and sweaters into different boxes by size and gender.
We settled into the work.All around us, the fundraiser buzzed with energy.People were laughing and chatting while children chased one another around the coat racks.And of course, Tilley was in the middle of it all with her clipboard, like she was planning a military operation.
I focused on the work.
Ethan set his box down next to mine.“These gloves are barely used.Maybe someone bought them and changed their mind.”
“It happens.”I lifted a scarf from the pile.“This one looks brand-new, too.”
“Maybe the same person.”Ethan shrugged.
I nodded.
