Page 99 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

Willow is at the window like she’s been stationed there on purpose, watching the parking lot with the intensity of a sports commentator.

The second I walk in, she whips around, eyes bright.

“What did he say?” she demands.

I press a hand to my chest like it’s going to keep my heart from launching out of my ribcage.

“He asked me out,” I whisper.

Willow’s face explodes into joy. “He did!”

“Yes!” I squeal, then clamp my mouth shut like I’m not a grown woman who just squealed in public. “And—” I lower my voice dramatically even though there’s no one close enough to hear, “he told me to wear yellow.”

Willow blinks. “Yellow?”

“Mm-hmm.” I glance down at my—her— Crocs like they’re suddenly prophetic. “Apparently yellow is a theme in my life now.”

Willow’s smile turns sly.

“Oh, honey. I think yellow is a theme in his life now.”

My cheeks heat.

“And so is going out with emotionally unavailable mountain men,” I mutter, mostly to myself.

Willow points at me.

“Nope. We’re not doing that. Not today. Today we’re doing romantic redemption date.”

She pulls her phone out like she’s about to call in an emergency response team.

“I’m calling Kelly,” she announces. “We’re getting you outfitted for a night in Woodhaven.”

I laugh nervously. “Willow, it’s not Manhattan.”

“I know,” she says, eyes gleaming. “That’s why this is fun. There are only, like, four places he can take you.”

She taps her chin, thinking hard, then gasps like she just remembered something life-changing.

“Oh! Wait. There’s a spring carnival in the big lot behind the middle school. It starts tonight.”

My stomach flips again—softer this time.

A carnival.

Lights. Music.

Something sweet in my hands.

Greyson beside me in public.

“Maybe,” I say, and I hate how hopeful it sounds.

Willow grins like she can see the whole story unfolding already.

“Oh,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Definitely.”

Chapter 19