Page 83 of Bragg's Match

“The kiln at the community center is too small for long-term use, which is why I donated it to the center in the first place.”

He massages my neck. “I understand, but it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

“I’m way behind on my orders.”

“I’m sure your customers understand. It’s not as if they’re buying from some big faceless mega-store. They’re buying art from an artist.”

Actually, he’s right. Most of my customers have been very understanding. I prioritized the few who weren’t and got their pieces finished ahead of the line.

“And you can let new customers know there’s a long wait. Don’t long waits for art make it more special?”

I roll my eyes. “I think you’re going overboard on the art stuff.”

“I’ve seen your pottery. It’s art.”

My stomach warms at his words of approval. My mom always supported my art but Dad still refers to it as artsy fartsy. Merely one of the many reasons we barely speak anymore.

Lucky for me, he moved back to his hometown after Mom died. I wouldn’t get away with giving him the cold shoulder if he lived in town. Sage wouldn’t allow it.

“You think my pottery is art?” I’m not begging for compliments. Okay, I am. But I want to hear him say my work is art again.

“Pixie, your pottery is more than art. It’s amazing.”

“Thank you.”

His lips touch mine in a brief kiss before he stands and offers me his hand. “Come on. Time to go.”

“Go where?” I wag my eyebrows. “The bedroom?”

“The bedroom’s for later tonight.” He winks. “For now, I have a surprise for you.”

I grasp his hand and he draws me to his feet. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“Something to make you forget all about the insurance company.”

I snort. “That’s a tall order.”

He bows. “I live to serve.”

“Dork.”

“Your dork.” He kisses my nose and leads me out of the house.

“Where are we going?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?”

We walk to the end of the street before turning toward Main Street. “A walk is nice.”

“It is but an evening stroll isn’t your surprise.”

When we reach Main Street, I notice a crowd gathered on the sidewalk.

“What’s going on? All the shops are closed. Why are people milling about?”

He waves toward two golf carts parked in the middle of the street in front of the pet store,Unleashed.“For this.”

I’m confused. There are always plenty of golf carts in Winter Falls. It is the main mode of transportation after all.

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