Sawyer turned to look at the apple tree. “To be honest, I never really thought about it.”
“Well, think about it.” Jenna’s grin took any sting from the words, and they stood there, simply looking at the gorgeous work of nature, all thick brown trunk and branches, lush green leaves, and bright, shining red apples. “It’s gorgeous,” Jenna said quietly, and Sawyer realized she wasn’t wrong.
“It really is.”
They stood quietly for a moment before Jenna broke the silence. “Okay. Let’s pick these babies.”
A laugh shot out of Sawyer at the sudden change in attitude, and she reached up and grabbed an apple, and the picking began. There were some bright, shiny round ones up higher on the tree, and Jenna pointed to them. “Here. Boost me.”
“What?” Sawyer blinked at her.
“Link your hands. Like this.” Jenna demonstrated how to make a cradle of her hands. “I’m gonna step there so I can reach those four up there.” She pointed to a cluster of big, juicy-looking apples.
“Ah, okay.” Sawyer did as she was told, Jenna put her sneakered foot into her hands and used Sawyer’s shoulder to balance. For one blissful moment, Jenna’s stomach was at eye level, and her body was so close, Sawyer could smell everything about her—the clean of her laundry detergent, the softness of her lotion, the subtle sweetness of her perfume—and then it was over and Jenna stepped down, one arm cradling the apples.
“See?” Jenna held one up, and she wasn’t wrong. It was big and perfectly round and gorgeous. And Jenna’s satisfied smile outshone them all. She dropped them into the bag and pointed at another tree. “Let’s do this one, too.”
Sawyer swallowed hard before following. When she thought about all the things in life that might be the death of her, apple picking with a pretty girl had not been on her bingo card.
“So, what do you do, Jenna?”
Sawyer’s grandmother, Ursula, was sweet and kind and unexpectedly funny, Jenna had discovered, over the past two hours they’d picked apples. And while they’d had a chance to banter and tease playfully, they hadn’t really been able to get to know each other. Now they sat across from one another at a little diner for lunch. Jenna had driven past this place about a hundred times but had never been inside, and it was just as kitschy as she’d always expected, with its red vinyl booths and red-and-white checked tablecloths.
“I own a bookstore,” she said as she spooned up some of her minestrone.
“A romance-only bookstore,” Ally added. “It’s so cute. I was in there the other day.”
“Oh, I love a good romance,” Ursula said. “I used to read them all the time when I was younger.” She furrowed her brow like she was thinking. “Danielle Steel. Judith Krantz. Barbara Cartland. Nora Roberts.”
“Wow, I’m so impressed you remember all their names,” Jenna said, and she was. “That’s the sign of a true romance fan.” She ate a spoonful of soup and added, “And Nora is the queen.”
“She’s still writing, isn’t she?” Ally asked, and Jenna nodded with enthusiasm.
“She is. She’s written more than two hundred books. Can you believe that?” She gave a laugh. “Don’t get me started on this subject, ’cause I’ll go on and on, and we don’t want to bore poor Sawyer here.” Jenna patted the thigh next to hers as she felt Sawyer’s eyes on her.
“Funny,” Sawyer said, and when her eyes met Jenna’s, there was a weird fluttering that started in Jenna’s stomach and drifted lower.
“Some people just don’t get it,” Ursula said, and Jenna returned her attention to the elderly woman. “They can’t understand what it means to the people who love it.”
Jenna was both impressed and surprised by Ursula’s accurate assessment. “That’s exactly right. They criticize it by calling it formulaic or predictable or”—she turned to Sawyer again—“unrealistic. They don’t get that those are exactly the reasons people love it.”
“Okay.” Sawyer set her fork down and shifted in her seat toward Jenna.
“Here we go,” Courtney said quietly, but she was smiling.
“First of all, romanceisformulaic. Itispredictable. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, they live happily ever after. Interchange boy and girl as necessary, but the story is always the same.That, my friend, is a formula.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, picked up her fork, stabbed a cherry tomato, and popped it into her mouth, looking incredibly satisfied as she chewed.
Jenna tipped her head to the side. “Let me ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Have I ever once argued back at you that romance isnotformulaic? Have I ever said, ‘No, it is absolutelynotpredictable, what are you saying?’ Like, ever? Even once?” She picked up her water and took a sip, as if she had all the time in the world, her eyes never leaving Sawyer’s, and she took great pleasure in watching Sawyer furrow her dark brows, as though trying to work out if Jenna was laying a trap for her.
“I…” Sawyer cleared her throat. “No, I don’t think so.”
“No. That’s correct. Do you know why I’ve never argued that point with you?”
Now, Sawyer really looked worried, and her throat moved as she swallowed. Jenna had to make a conscious effort not to grin. “No?”
