Ethan hesitated, touching her cheek.
“What’s that, man?” Leo asked. “Can barely hear you.”
Cali looked away, and after a long pause Ethan said, “Sure. I’ll head over.”
He hung up, and Cali tried to slip toward the window, but Ethan grabbed her gently by the hips. “I don’t have to go right now,” he insisted. “I can tell him I got caught up. Either they’ll figure it out or the problem will still be there when I get there.” His eyes softened at the edges. “Please, Cali. You’re the most important thing right now. Tell me what I need to do to make this right.”
She wiggled out of his grasp and pulled down her skirt and settled into the passenger seat, arms crossed. She was on the verge of tears, so she kept her eyes fixed on the stream pummeling the truck window. “Can I just stay here a minute?” she asked softly. “I need …” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I need.”
“Sure,” he said. But his expression turned to confusion. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
“No. I want you to go. Help Leo. I don’t know what I was thinking. It wasn’t my intent to hate-fuck you in your car tonight, Ethan. I just—” she sighed. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“But that’s not—this wasn’t—that’s not what happened here, Cali.”
She knew he was looking at her then, waiting, expecting her to turn toward him and say something. But she couldn’t. He stopped trying to make sense of it. The muscles in his jaw were clenched so tight they threatened to snap. He wrung his hands in his lap then kept brushing back the wet bands of hair that fell in his eyes. Eventually he composed himself and zipped closed his jeans again.
“Okay,” he said, voice low, his hand hovering near the door handle. “I don’t know what I was thinking either. Seemed like, for just a second there, you forgot what you were running from. See you at the gala, Cali.”
He opened the door, rain rushing in again, and slammed it shut behind him.
In the rear view mirror, she watched him jog through the downpour to the back of the truck, grab a clean shirt, and tug it over his bare shoulders. The fabric clung to him instantly. Water streamed down his chest. He didn’t even seem to feel it. His expression had locked into something she couldn’t read, as he turned toward Main Street and glanced both directions. Under the hazy lamplight, he crossed the road and headed toward the hotel.
Chapter 22
Much to Cali’s dismay, everyone in Autumn Ridge except her seemed to be enjoying their Friday morning. She woke to clear skies, the storm gone and the weather even cooler than before in its wake. One of her neighbors was feeding the wild turkeys. Out on the lake, two people fished from a canoe in their down vests and mittens.
Her soaked clothes from the night before still hung by her bedroom door, smelling faintly of rain and Ethan. Of soap and aftershave. Her glasses still had a fingerprint smudge, an echo of what had happened between them last. No, what hadalmosthappened between them. It made her head ache. She wished someone had already dressed her for work and made her coffee and told her everything was going to be okay today. Instead, she’d have to do it for herself, and she was sure she could do most of it. Just not that last part.
She checked her phone as she scooped the coffee grinds and the machine sputtered to life. Since she’d sent along the spreadsheet of auction items, there’d been a lot of chattering via email. Lynne, being a bartender, kicked it off around 3 a.m., and as the morning progressed their updates about each piece of the gala preparation got cheerier.
But nothing from Ethan. No private text. No group chat message. No word from Leo about whether Ethan had saved thegala’s sound system or not—and the event along with it. But she was sure he had.
Then Minka picked today, of all days, to use Max and Catsby as the featured felines on her socials advertising the gala. The post appeared while Cali sipped her coffee on her porch. In the photo, the two lounged side by side on stacks of books, likely in Ethan’s bedroom or another room she hadn’t seen upstairs, with a gala flier nearby. Fairy lights were a blurred glowed above them. “Save the Date” with Saturday’s event details were stamped onto the post. She read the description:Looks like even our mascots found their purrfect match before Saturday’s gala. Join us for an evening of saving the strays—maybe your own happily ever after with one of our firefighters! What (or who) will you be bidding on? #AutumnRidgeGala #CatsofAutumnRidge #PawsandProsecco #SaveTheDate #DateNightForACause
This should be exciting. If things went well, The Nine were about to get a windfall of money for their cause and maybe even a following for their before-unknown gang of local cat protectors. But Cali’s stomach dropped mid-scroll, as the comments started pouring in.
AutumnRidgeMayorOfficial:Can’t wait to see everyone there! My wife’s been talking about this forweeks!
ChiefBobisonFire:Careful, ladies. The boys are already getting competitive over those auction bids. ;)
SandyBaker799:@ChiefBobisonFire Is Leo March one of those firefighter dates up for auction? Asking for a friend.
LeoM_27:Oh, you know it. @SandyBaker799
LilaJDesigns:This post just made my whole morning. Love seeing our town come alive again!
She couldn’t take it anymore, the anticipation that every vibration, every sound her phone made was going to be a message from Ethan. He said he’d see her at the gala. That wasthat. She muted her phone, went back inside, buried it in her purse, and dumped the rest of her lukewarm coffee in the sink.
At work she kept quiet in her office for as long as possible, nursing another mug of coffee brewed in the break room. But Russell insisted on asking her a million questions about the gala. What should he wear? He brought her two suits and asked her to choose between them, arguing the other suit each time she landed on a reason for one. Was there assigned seating? Would she make sure he was seated near the firemen that were being auctioned off for dates? Did everyone need to bring their pets?
“Russell,” she finally snapped. “I’m just trying to get through one more day of work. Could you please try to do the same? That returns desk pile is about to devour one of our senior volunteers.” They glanced over at the poor elderly woman surrounded by books.
Russell was gracious. “Fair enough. I’ll save the senior. But if it’s an open bar and I go past my limit and start auctioning myself off, you’re responsible. Capeesh?”
Cali rolled her eyes. “Open bar. Limit two tickets per guest. If I see you bribing anyone for their tickets, I’ll let everyone knowyou’rethe problem. Capeesh?”
“So sassy,” he said. “This is why I love you.”
