The tavern is even busier than I expected as we walk inside, hand-in-hand. Dozens of voices chatter at once, drowning out the music playing over the speakers. The chairs and tables have all been pushed to the side, and groups of people sit along the edge of the room, nibbling at party food and chatting animatedly. The middle of the room heaves with even more people, familiar faces from around town, all of them laughing, dancing, and talking while kids chase each other around the room with screeches of delight.
An enormous banner is strung across the high wooden ceiling.
Happy Birthday Bonnie!
This is Grandma’s idea of heaven…and probably Clay’s idea of hell.
I catch sight of Grandma at the back of the room, standing by a long table which is laden with even more snacks. She’s talking to a group of friends but keeps shooting glances toward the front door. She hasn’t noticed me and Clay yet, but I have a feeling that it’s us she’s looking out for.
“Just realized I don’t have a gift,” Clay says, his deep voice cutting easily through the noise as we head across the room.
“Grandma hates gifts.” Unlike him, I have to practically shout to be heard. “She’s impossible to buy for, so she gets people to donate to Cherry Mountain Rescue instead.”
He nods. “Will do.”
I feel eyes on us as I guide Clay toward my grandma. He parts the crowd like the Red Sea, towering head and shoulders over most of the guests, and I hear snatches of muttering as we pass.
“—Bonnie’s grandkid, Savannah?—”
“—didn’t know she was dating a lumberjack?—”
“—name’s something Benson. Cade, maybe. Or Cole?—”
“—lives on Cherry Mountain?—”
“—works at the bookstore. Sweet girl?—”
“—saw them at the hospital yesterday?—”
“—heard Bonnie’s been trying to set her up for?—”
“—think they make a cute couple?—”
I feel Clay stiffen beside me at all the attention, and I squeeze his hand, breathing hard as I keep my gaze fixed on Grandma. We’ve nearly reached her; she’s bound to notice us any second.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I ask Clay.
“Yes.”
I gulp. “Because I’m not sure I am. Maybe I should just take her aside for a minute and come clean.”
Clay lets go of my hand, slipping his arm around my waist instead. He pulls me close, my curves yielding to the hard angles of his body.
“We got this, sugar.”
His scent wraps around me, musk and pine, and the world seems to fall away. All the noise turns to static, everything narrowing down to the place where my body touches Clay’s, and desire buzzes through me, heat blooming between my thighs at the closeness. It feels so good. So right. His grip is firm on mywaist, his arm like a protective barrier as we make a beeline for Grandma.
It’s not real, Savannah.
We’re just putting on a show.
But my chest is pounding like a bass drum as Clay squeezes me tight.
“Savannah!”
Grandma’s voice snaps me back to reality. I catch her eye, and her face lights up like a Christmas tree as she looks from me to Clay. She hurries toward us, her friends watching on, all muttering with their heads together. I recognize Sheila among them, and she shoots me a smile.
“Oh, look at you two!” Grandma exclaims when she reaches us, throwing her arms around me. Seeing her so happy fills me with a mixture of guilt and joy, and I hug her back tight.
