He came. It’s not too late for us.
“Tobes…” His voice was deep and quiet, meant only for me.
The light touch on my arm was not restraining, but it stopped me in my tracks. Turning back from the interior of the Outback, I gazed at him, eyes asking everything my lips could not.
His hand fell away from my arm, but he stepped closer while tucking his hands into the pocket of the vest over his flannel. His chin angled down, and our eyes locked. The tug between us wasundeniable, the way nothing else seemed to matter when he was just inches away. The rest of the world melted away, and it was him and me under a dark, snowy sky.
“I want to t?—”
“Boys!” someone called, shattering the snow globe in which we’d existed. “Bring it over.”
I turned to see Bab and Mayor Schroder waving from the sidewalk across the street. I turned back, startled to find Archer still watching me. He hadn’t looked away.
“Th-they’re waiting,” I said, suddenly feeling clumsy in front of him.
His eyes searched mine a moment longer, and then he nodded slowly. When he finally looked away, my lungs deflated, and I realized I’d been holding my breath.
“You grab that side,” he instructed, voice quiet. “I’ll take this one.”
I reached for the base it was on but then pulled back instantly to tug off my gloves.
“You’re going to get cold,” Archer scolded.
“I’d rather be cold than drop it because the gloves got in my way.”
He frowned as though the idea of my comfort was more important than this gingerbread masterpiece. But let’s face it. It wasn’t. If we didn’t get this thing up into the gazebo, there would be hell to pay.
In the form of our angry mothers and a woman yelling at us in French.
“I got it,” I said, gripping the end.
Carefully, we slid it out of the back of the Outback and straightened. Small snowflakes swirled in the minty fresh air. Every breath I took was a small white cloud in front of me.
In true dramatic small-town fashion, Mayor Schroder rushed out into the middle of the two-lane street to stop traffic, his longwool coat flapping as if he were some sort of superhero and not a humble civil servant.
“Watch your step,” Archer murmured as we moved off the sidewalk and onto the street.
“I got it,” I told him. Geez, did he think I was incapable?
“I know you do. But I worry anyway.”
Well, now I understood why my heart was in a cage because, if not for my ribs, it would have fluttered right up into the sky.
Our eyes met around the side of the gazebo, and I knew I was blushing so hard. My only hope was that it looked like my cheeks were rosy from the wind.
“Just so you know,” I said, “I worry about you too.”
He smiled, and something about it made my heart stumble.
And then my feet followed.
“Whoa,” Archer cautioned, moving fast to steady the delicate build between us. We stopped in the center of the street, headlights bathing us in a spotlight while people by the gazebo stared like we were an attraction. “You need a break?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. “It’s not heavy. I just…” My voice trailed off because I wasn’t sure how to give words to what I felt.
“Can’t walk and flirt at the same time?” Archer finished.
My eyes flew to his, and it was a good thing I wasn’t a snowman because, if I were, I’d be a puddle on the street from seeing the teasing, fond light in his eyes.
