"Yep." He doesn't look bothered. "Small towns, sweetheart. Someone probably saw us making dinner reservations and told everyone within a five-mile radius."
"This is a nightmare."
"Or," he counters, crossing to me, "it's everyone being excited for you. For us."
"They think we're—" I gesture vaguely. "Together. Like, officially."
"Aren't we?" His voice is gentle. "I mean, we're courting you. Formally. As a pack. That's kind of the whole point."
My heart does this weird flutter-thump thing. "But we haven't—I haven't said?—"
"You don't have to say anything yet." He touches my chin, tilting my face up. "Tonight is just dinner. Getting to know each other as a group instead of individually. No pressure. No expectations. Just... us."
"What if it's weird?"
"Then it's weird." He shrugs. "We'll figure it out. But Bea, you can't avoid this forever. And honestly? I don't think you want to."
He's right. I hate that he's right, but he is.
"Fine," I mutter. "But if Mrs. Woodbury shows up at the restaurant with her book club?—"
"I'll personally escort them out." He's grinning now. "Now come on. We've got work to do, and you've got approximately four hours to overthink everything before Seth shows up for lunch."
"What do you mean Seth shows up for lunch?"
River's grin widens. "He texted me this morning. Very nervously asked if it was okay if he took you to lunch. I said yes."
"You—you coordinated with each other?"
"We're a pack, sweetheart. Of course we coordinate." He heads toward the stockroom, calling over his shoulder. "Besides, Seth needs the practice before tonight. He's probably already stress-organizing his tie collection."
Despite everything, I laugh. Because of course Seth is stress-organizing. Of course they're coordinating. Of course this is happening.
And maybe—just maybe—I'm starting to be okay with that.
Seth showsup at noon exactly, looking nervous and endearing in his deputy uniform.
"Hi," he says, like he hasn't seen me in weeks instead of yesterday.
"Hi yourself."
"I, uh—" He clears his throat. "I thought maybe we could grab lunch? If you're not too busy. Or if you want to. No pressure. But I made a reservation at Millie's just in case, but if you'd rather go somewhere else, or if you're not hungry, or?—"
"Seth." I touch his arm. "Breathe."
He does. "Right. Breathing. I can do that."
"Lunch sounds great," I tell him, and watch his whole face light up.
River watches us leave with a knowing smile, and I flip him off behind Seth's back. He just grins wider.
Millie's Diner is packed, as usual for lunch hour. We snag a booth in the back and Seth immediately starts fidgeting with the menu.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Fine. Great. Totally not panicking about tonight." He sets the menu down with too much force. "Okay, I'm definitely panicking about tonight."
"Why?"
