Giving up, I tossed the wadded-up plastic on the counter. “How did you do that?”
He laughed. “Practice. I help mom wrap apple crumble for the store.”
I nodded. “Hodge Podge looks really great by the way. Ever since I got here, everyone’s been saying how much you’ve done to increase tourism and revenue for the town, and I can definitely see why.”
He seemed not to know what to make of the compliment, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. Even though it didn’t need it, he reached out to smooth the edge of the plastic wrap on the bowl. “Just want to make my dad proud.”
My heart squeezed. Laying my hand on his forearm, I stepped close. “He is,” I told him. “Your father is so proud of everything you’ve done. The entire town is.”
Archer looked up, his earnest blue eyes a blast from the past. A glimpse of my old best friend whose heart was so special I couldn’t keep myself from falling in love. “You really think so?”
“I genuinely do.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, emotion flickering over his face. “For so long, I tried to keep everything together, just wanting it to stay the same…”
“The only thing that ever stays the same is change.”
“Yeah.” He seemed regretful. “That’s what I learned.”
My chest was so tight that I needed to breathe deeply to expand the space my heart had to rest. But I didn’t want to move for fear it would interfere with this moment. This moment when I felt like my best friend was here.
“Toby.”
“Archer.”
We both spoke at the same time, our names rushing into the space between us, mingling and mixing like they wanted to be one word.
“You can go first.”
He shook his head. “No, you.”
We stared at each other, the air as thick as the royal icing we’d just made.
“Start assembling,” Bab commanded. “Clock is ticking.”
“She’s a culinary dictator,” I quipped.
“Hell’s Kitchenholiday edition,” Archer shot back.
“I love that show,” I said, the tension around us finally easing.
His teeth flashed. I loved the contrast of the white against his beard. “Me too.”
That surprised me. “Yeah?”
“I’m not on the farm every hour of the day,” he teased.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Please, I hear your mom telling everyone all you do is work.”
“I like my job.” I defended myself.
“You’re good at it.”
I ducked my face, hoping he wouldn’t see just how much that simple praise meant to me.
“I mean it,” he said after a minute. “Marlowe really likes you.”
