“Of Kendra’s crush on me,” he clarifies, turning and climbing toward me. I squeal and laugh, trying to dart away, but he catches me and pins me down, the towel coming loose but not slipping away.
“No,” I say, though my heart is absolutely pounding in my chest at his proximity, at this position. Will there ever come a day when I’m not reacting to him like this? That he could touch me, and I wouldn’t feel like a girl with a crush, finally getting a look from the boy she likes.
“There’s nothing to be jealous about,” Evan says, and I watch as his expression shifts, most of the joking laughter fading away as he looks between my eyes. “Amy, I can’t eventhinkabout another woman. There’s no crush on this planet that you have to worry about.”
Another conversation about our relationship. It’s getting serious. I know it is. In every brush from the back of his knuckles, and each time I call him when I’m back in Denver, falling asleep to the sound of his voice.
I should return the sentiment. Tell him that I feel the same way—that I’ve never really paid men that much attention in the first place, but now it’s like they’re all a different species. Each of them an amalgamation of all the ways they’re not just like Evan. Every man who looks at me twice in Denver feels like a complete afterthought now.
“Come on,” I say, reaching up to peck his lips, once again avoiding the conversation. “We have to get down to the renovation site.”
“Sure,” Evan says languidly, and I feel him tugging away my towel, his eyes hungry as he drinks in my body. “But I have something else I need to do first.”
When we walkonto the restoration site, my body is still buzzing from what Evan did to me in bed this morning.
And what he did the second time, in the shower while I gripped for dear life to the tiled wall, grateful he was strong enough to hold both of us up.
“Good morning!” a rough, low voice rings out through the foyer, catching me off guard and drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Gramps,” Evan says, turning and finding his grandfather standing just inside the hall, leaning on his cane, next to Carp—the mayor of the town, whom I’ve met a few times while working down here. Blue yips happily and goes to sniff first at Carp’s hand, then Gramps’s. “What are you doing here?”
“The doctor cleared me for intense manual labor,” Gramps jokes dryly, before waving his hand. “Just wanted to get out of the house. Come see everything you all have been working on.”
“Point out every mistake I’ve made with the woodworking?” Evan counters, raising an eyebrow, which makes me and Carp laugh.
“Just show me what you’ve done so far,” Gramps says, making aI have no idea what you’re talking aboutface. “So I can tell you you’ve done a great job.”
Evan rolls his eyes but shows Gramps into the coffee-shop portion of the building, leaving Carp and me standing together in the main hallway.
“So, I’m told you’re the project manager behind actually getting this show on the road,” Carp says, turning to me with a friendly smile. He’s not who I would have imagined for the mayor of Granite Peaks. In fact, I’d been thinking of a lumberjack like Evan, just older. But he seems to love his job and is very capable at it.
“I’ve helped a bit,” I admit, though I know it wouldn’t be on time like this without my help. Beverly was completely swamped trying to handle the stuff here and her job at the ski resort, and without my initiative to bring in more volunteers—mostly the high schoolers—we wouldn’t have had the manpower to get things rolling.
The lobby Carp and I stand in is tall, with a beautiful, frescoed ceiling. To the right are two huge doors, leading to the theater where they’ll show movies. There’s a long bar where you can buy popcorn and ICEEs, along with an assortment of theater merch and Granite Peaks souvenirs.
To our left is the combined coffee shop and bookstore, with booths and tables for people to sit and chat, do remote work—if tourists come and need a place to do that kind of thing—and a long bar with an espresso machine and a myriad of syrups.
Brendon has already agreed to provide the café with an assortment of baked goods for the pastry case, and Kendra has volunteered to work as the bookshop manager for the time being, until the place makes enough to warrant hiring someone full-time for the position.
“Well, I think I speak for all of the council and the people in Granite Peaks when I say we’re glad you came around when you did,” Carp says, drawing me out of my thoughts and shooting a meaningful glance my way. “Did you know we always do a community potluck before council meetings?”
“No,” I admit, brow furrowing.Why is he telling me this?
“People bring a lot of stuff,” he says wryly, “but nobody ever brings chili. I really think that would pull the whole thing together.”
“Ah.” I laugh, nodding and jotting down a note in my phone. “Chili—got it.”
Carp can’t tell me that the vote is going to go in Evan’s favor, but I have a very good feeling that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Most of the council was probably going to vote in his favor anyway, but now that we have the other townies on our side, it’s certain.
“Great,” Carp says, clapping me on the shoulder before turning and walking away. “I’ll see you at the meeting then, Amy.”
CHAPTER 23
EVAN
“No, I’m saying—” Amy tries to talk, but she’s laughing too hard to say anything, tears rolling down her face. Blue is asleep in the back seat, and we’re making the long drive back up to the cabin for the night. It’s later than I would have liked, since we ended up stopping over at Brendon’s for a pizza, which ended up with us taste-testing some new pastries he cooked up for the bookstore.
“Oscar Wilde-Berry muffins,” he’d said, brimming with excitement over the puns. “And Dante’s Inferno Pizza Croissant—careful, it’s spicy.”
