Page 42 of The Fun Part
“You’re the first person I’ve met who gains energy as they walk in the winter.”
“Spring is only twelve days away.”
“You’re counting the days?” He sounds amused. I wish I could feel as casual as he sounds.
“Let me check the town events calendar, and I’ll get back to you.”
“There’s always Sunday family dinner tonight.” He gives me an adorable lopsided smile. “I have an open invitation.”
I stare at him. “Are you insane? We did family dinner last night.”
“Will you be there?”
“Ihaveto go. Save yourself.”
“I like your family.”
I shake my head even as part of me warms at the sentiment. “Let’s stay focused.” And then I promptly trip on a raised sidewalk square. “Aah!” I’m about to fall flat on my face when Cal wraps his arms around me, my back to his front.
My heart races purely from the adrenaline of nearly falling.
Miss Smith leans out her front door in her bathrobe and slippers. “Are you okay, Mackenzie?”
Cal loosens his hold but keeps his hands on my arms. He’s putting on a show. I put my hand over his. “Yes, Miss Smith, thank you. My boyfriend caught me.”
She squints. “Who’s that?”
Cal waves. “Cal Davis. I’m the new town lawyer taking over for Gabe Reynolds.”
Her lips pucker. “A lawyer.” She shuts the door.
I turn to Cal. “That’s good. Spotted already by Miss Smith as a couple.” We continue on our way to Main Street.
“Is she a central part of the town gossip line?”
“Not really. She’s a retired librarian hell-bent on keeping things quiet. Not easy in this town.”
“So looks like we definitely need to be seen by more people. We should stay at Something’s Brewing for a bit. Another fake date in the books.”
“Mmm.” I’m starting to feel a little silly, like maybe he thinks this is a weird thing, and he’s humoring me. But then why go along with it?
When we get to Something’s Brewing Café, Cal holds the door open for me. Cal’s the first man to put me first. At least through the doorway, and in line. I feel a little like a queen.
I point to the glass display case of cream puffs. They’re small, about golf ball size, with a light flaky crust and sweet cream. “The special only on Sundays.”
His hands go to my waist as he whispers in my ear, “Do you want one?” My knees go weak. He’s very good at public affection.
I glance over my shoulder, my breath coming faster at his warm expression. “Just one?”
When it’s our turn to order, I say, “I’ll take an espresso for here, please.”
“Make that two and six cream puffs,” Cal says. I’m glad Cal understands the cream-puff situation.
We sit at a table with our espressos and cream puffs. I finish off one and hum my pleasure. Heaven.
Cal watches me intently.
“Try one,” I say.
