“This is wonderful,” Posy corrected, squeezing her arm. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you. Ben needed someone to crack through that grumpy shell of his.”
“He’s not that grumpy,” she muttered, and every woman at the table burst out laughing.
“Honey.” Nina wiped tears from her eyes. “I worked for him. He once made a delivery driver cry because they knocked on the door instead of using the bell.”
“Maybe he had a headache that day.”
“He always has a headache. It’s his natural state.” Nina grinned at her. “But I’ll admit, he’s been different lately. Less… scowly. Because of you.”
A warm glow spread through her chest. Ben had been different since he’d started courting her. Softer, somehow. More willing to smile, and to let people see past the walls he’d built so carefully.Knowing that she’d been part of that transformation, that her presence in his life had brought him some measure of peace, made her heart ache in the best possible way.
“He’s a good male,” she said quietly. “Underneath all the grumpiness.”
“The best,” Flora agreed, suddenly serious. “That boy has been punishing himself for years. Denying himself any comfort. It’s good to see someone finally break through.” Her eyes met Sara’s, full of genuine warmth. “You’re good for him, child. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
She blinked back unexpected tears. “Thank you.”
“Now.” Flora clapped her hands together, breaking the moment of solemnity. “Tell us about the nest. I’ve always wondered. Do rabbit Others use actual vegetation, or is it more of a pillow-and-blanket situation?”
“We’re not?—”
“Pillows and blankets,” Posy supplied helpfully. “Ben special-ordered some ridiculously expensive bedding from somewhere in Europe. Apparently it’s softer than clouds.”
“It really is,” she admitted before she could stop herself.
The table erupted in delighted squeals.
“I knew it!” Posy crowed. “I knew you’d slept in the nest!”
“Can we please talk about something else?” She was fairly certain her face would never return to its normal color. “Anything else? The festival, maybe?”
“The festival is in three days,” Nina said. “The decorations are sorted, the food stalls confirmed, and the games planned. Everything’s on track.”
“So the meeting’s adjourned?” she asked hopefully.
“Nice try.” Ginger pushed through the community center’s swinging doors, a stack of folders tucked under one arm and an apologetic smile on her freckled face. “Sorry I’m late. Houston needed help with the permit paperwork.”
The mayor’s mate was a pretty woman with bright red hair and an easy smile. She dropped her folders on the table and sank into a chair with a grateful sigh.
“What did I miss?”
“Sara got claimed by Ben Holloway,” Flora announced.
“Flora!”
“Oh good.” Ginger didn’t seem remotely surprised. “Houston owes me twenty dollars. He thought Ben would hold out until after mating season ended.”
“There was a bet?” she asked, horrified.
“There’s always a bet in Fairhaven Falls. Flora runs a book.” Ginger waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway, congratulations. Ben’s one of the good ones. Now, can we talk about the music situation?”
She latched onto the subject change like a drowning woman grabbing a life preserver. “What music situation?”
“The band we booked cancelled.” Ginger pulled out one of her folders, flipping through pages covered in neat handwriting. “The lead singer got laryngitis, apparently. They can’t perform.”
“Damn,” Nina muttered. “The festival’s in three days. Where are we supposed to find a replacement on such short notice?”
“I’ve been making calls all morning,” Ginger said. “Most of the local acts are already booked elsewhere, and the ones that are available want too much money. We’re working with a limited budget here.”
