“Oh!” Tessa squealed. “Another secret admirer gift!”
“I bet it’s the postmaster,” Cadence said. “He delivered the mail today.”
“But he didn’topenit,” Tessa pointed out. “How did he know what it was?”
“Tracking number. Return address.”
As her sisters bounced back and forth with theories, Sophie fished a pair of scissors out of the hardware drawer. She didn’t want to accept the gift, but sheneedednew headphones. “Is there anything else in there?” she asked her sisters. “A note? Gift receipt?” But again, it was hard to return a gift if she didn’t know who sent it in the first place.
Yes, it could be Jeffrey. He was a fellow marathoner, after all. They had a conversation once about the importance of good music. But she’d also run into Mr. Andrews on one of her morning runs that was interrupted when her headphones gave out. She was pretty sure she mentioned it to him.
Maybe it’s Denver, a little voice whispered inside her head.No. No, it’s not.
“You’re keeping these, right?” Tessa asked, taking the scissors from Sophie.
“Yeah, I guess—”
“You should keep them,” Cadence urged. “They were a gift. Just like the scarf.”
“Scarf?” Tessa clicked the scissors open, then shut them. “What scarf?”
“Should I be creeped out right now?” Sophie asked her sisters. “This is the third gift this week. All of them have been so spot-on.”
“Maybe,” Tessa said with a shrug. Cadence swatted her on the shoulder. “Ow!”
“I think it’s sweet. Harmless.”
Sophie wasn’t as convinced. “You do?”
“Yes, I do.” Both sisters draped an arm over Sophie.
“Me, too,” agreed Tessa. “But make no mistake. This secret admirer starts getting weird or oversteps his bounds, he’ll have to answer to me.”
“Same,” agreed Cadence.
Sophie really did have the best sisters.
* * *
“Did you get chapter twenty-two finished?” Sophie asked when she spotted Denver in Tillie’s driveway. He was lining up a two-by-four on a table saw, and she had to admit he looked pretty attractive this way. Flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, glasses on to mark his measured spot on the board, worn jeans and even more worn work boots.
“Better,” he said with a quick glance up. “Twenty-three is done too. Needs a little editing love, but it’s written.”
“What did you do about Malcom and Kat?”
A mischievous smirk sat on Denver’s lips and Sophie cursed herself for noticing. They were familiar; that smirk meant he wouldn’t tell her. In the past, she was able to look away from his lips without wanting so badly tokissthem.
“Not going to tell me, are you?”
“You’ll have to wait, Soph. Can’t spoil the last part of the book for my best beta reader.”
The compliment warmed a place inside her she feared dormant, maybe even dead. It was unexpected and uncomfortable. Her throat constricted. The feelings she was so confident would eventually fade away were growing stronger every day.
“Where’s Caroline?” he asked.
“She and Tessa baked lemon bars. She wanted to give one to your mom.”
“Looks like there’s another future chef in the family.”
