“Sounds like fun.”
“Then that leaves the fine details of our silent auction.” She turned to Cali and Ethan, and Cali’s stomach dropped. “I hope I can count on you two to collect, log, and price our silent auction donations since you’re—what was it? ‘shipped’—anyway?”
On any other day, Cali would’ve been delighted with the assignment. Spreadsheets and tracking were a natural extension of what she loved to do every day. But when she glanced over at Ethan and caught him glaring down at the carpet again, all shecould think to stammer out was “I—I think I can handle that all by myself, can’t I?”
Mrs. Ellery frowned. “I think not. We don’t have a single donation yet. Yes, we need someone to organize it all for the event, which is perfect for you, Cali. But the other side of that coin is getting the donations in the first place. Now, Ethan, I understand you’ve been making a lot of connections around town. Your name is on everyone’s lips—or will be soon, if you keep offering to build folks like me gazebos. Why not use those connections to drum up auction items? It’s the perfect pairing. And, quite frankly, I think it’s the only way we’re going to land this plane on time.”
If there was something that could be said about Ethan Cross, Cali realized now, it’s that he wanted to help others. She wasn’t sure of the motivation. It just seemed to be a part of him. She watched his face soften at Mrs. Ellery’s request and his whole body relax into openness. “Of course.” He turned to Cali, met her eyes for only a moment and said, “We’ll make it work.”
Then he took her nearest hand in his.
A quiet tremor ran through her fingers before she could stop it, and her breath caught. He caressed her fingers until she recalibrated, relaxed under his touch. His eyes lingered between her widened gaze and her lips. Time seemed to stutter—wordless, breathless—before he finally let go.
“What about breakdown? You need help with that, too?” he asked Mrs. Ellery. “Maybe Leo and I—”
“Yeah, let the guys handle that, Mrs. Ellery,” Leo chimed in.
“Well thank you, gentlemen. I’ll strike that off the list, too. I’m sure the other details can be divided next week. Good start tonight, though. This gives me hope.”
The meeting wrapped in a flurry of chatter and scraping chairs. Cali was half-expecting Ethan to linger, waiting for her, wanting to talk. But he didn’t.
By the time she locked up, the parking lot was empty except for the faint glow of headlights pushing down Main Street. She couldn’t swear it was his truck, but her gut told her it was. She walked to her own car, lonely and dimly lit under the weak yellow of a streetlamp. The echo of laughter still hummed faintly behind her, but the warmth of his hand was already slipping from her skin. A memory cooling in the night air.
Chapter 17
Banned Books Week kicked off with less fanfare than Cali expected. But after a day or two of dedicated marketing by the front desk staff, whispers of the scavenger hunt and questions about the LED pointers circulated the library faster than the books. Cali was relieved the town’s focus was finally on something important for a change, not whatever was or wasn’t happening between her and Ethan. Just like all small-town gossip, they were already onto the next big (or little) thing.
Still, her mind kept returning to the last book club gathering and how Ethan’s hand so effortlessly reached for hers while they talked. Had it been sign of understanding? Like he didn’t want to deal with Nine Lives Club drama, so he’d leaned into anything that made it look like they were still into each other? Or had he been reaching out because he hoped there was still a chance between them? And she hadn’t done anything but freeze.
He said they’d make it work. But what had he meant? The gala preparations or something more? She wished he’d stayed afterward so she could ask. And each time she thought to text him that question, whatever she typed on her phone sounded so weird when she read it back to herself that she never pressed send.
Even during work, she shook off the temptation to reach for her phone when that question resurfaced. It was better to let it be. What she needed was a distraction. So she kepttexting Minka instead, who was full of stories about Purrcy’s shenanigans at the café or the latest gossip she’d overheard. Tom the realtor’s son had been suspended from school for cursing. The owner of the Round Barn had been asking around about catering services, even though they didn’t host events. And there was a rumor everyone was going to meet up at Lynne’s bar this Halloween again to celebrate Leo’s birthday.
Life seemed back to normal.
Minka even suggested they venture out to Candlewick Orchard over the weekend, something they’d done a few times since Cali moved to Autumn Ridge. It was just the kind of apple picking, maple smelling, farm animal feeding diversion she could sink her teeth into, and suddenly there was something to look forward to again.
Every time someone asked her about Max, she deflected, saying he was “fine” or “great” or “hanging out with his friend Catsby”. Eventually everyone moved on from wanting updates, too.
Then Ethan stopped by the library. She caught him unannounced at first, searching through the stacks with his own UV pointer in hand. Then later, while she was hidden in her office, he knocked on the door. He wasn’t supposed to lookthatgood under fluorescent lights.
“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” he said. “Russell said you’d be back here.”
Cali nodded. “Come on in.”
They pulled up seats opposite of each other at her desk. He smelled of sweat and cedar and a hard day’s work under the falling leaves. A faint fleck of white paint ran along one of his cheeks. He must’ve just gotten off work and headed right over.
He reached the arm with the tattoo sleeve into his pocket. “I brought the initial list of auction items I’d secured,” Ethan told her, handing her the list. “I wanted to make sure those are thekinds of details you need or if I should be recording something else.”
Item names, descriptions, quantities, and fair market values were scrawled across the page.
“This is a really good start,” she said. “But I think, if you know them, add the donor contact information, display needs—like props, signs, or special space requirements—and maybe the pick-up or delivery details.” She squinted, analyzing. “Oh, and I don’t see any on here now, but I expect we’ll have donations of tickets or services or experiences. If we do, we should mention if there are any expiration or blackout dates.”
She looked up to find Ethan gesturing to the cup of pens on her desk. “Could you, uh, repeat that?”
“No, it’s okay. Sorry. I was already drafting up the spreadsheet. Let me just print you a copy with several blank rows. It’ll be easier.”
“Or how about you just send it in a shared note?” he suggested. “That way you could update it in real time, whenever you got an alert something was added.”
