Mitch climbed into the truck, taking his seat next to RJ while the rest of the crew boarded. “She’s become a good friend,” he explained, hoping to keep his interest hidden. He definitely didn’t need the whole firehouse knowing his feelings for the beautiful baker. He’d never hear the end of it. “Plus, she’s my neighbor. Just trying to do the right thing.”
“Or the thing that gets you noticed, good or bad.”
Faith had already noticed Mitch. Maybe not in a romantic sense, but it couldn’t be ignored that he had gotten her attention multiple times already.
The rest of the shift was quiet, and just as Mitch was about to head out for a run before the sun set, Captain Anderson caught up with him.
Was Mitch about to be reprimanded? It would be justified. He hadn’t acted out of professionalism back at the ranch, putting his own agenda regarding the soiree first. If Captain Anderson saw it fit to discipline Mitch in this area, he wouldn’t complain. He deserved it.
“Hey, about what you said back at Josephine Major’s place…about Faith being willing to take over the soiree—”
“I recognize I spoke out of turn—” Mitch’s tail was already tucked squarely between his legs.
“Do you really think she’d be up for it?” It was as if Captain Anderson hadn’t heard him, the way he continued his verbal train of thought without acknowledging Mitch’s apology. “Because Josephine is such a respected matriarch in this community, and I can’t think of anyone better for her to pass the soiree torch to than Faith. That woman has a sense of small-town spirit like no other, and I know the event would be an overwhelming success with her in the driver’s seat.”
Great. Now Mitch had two important people counting on Faith’s cooperation in a role she hadn’t even expressed any interest in. Mitch was caught between a rock and a hard place, and he couldn’t see a way out other than to come clean.
Or carry on with the lie.
He went with option number two.
“She’ll totally be on board. It’s what she’s always wanted.”
Mitch had procrastinated long enough.He needed to go over to Faith’s and have a serious discussion about the soiree before she caught wind of it through the Snowdrift Summit grapevine. He knew she was close with Captain Anderson, and by the sound of it, Josephine Major was well-known in the community. Either of them might phone her with the news. Mitch figured it would be better to give her a heads-up beforehand.
Around seven that evening he marched across their landing, determination fueling his movements while he replayed the script in his mind. This would be easy. She would open the door, he would shout, “Congratulations! You’re the Sweetheart Soiree’s newest chairperson!” and she would throw her arms around his neck in overwhelming gratitude.
That’s how Mitch’s delusion played out in his head, at least.
Not so in reality.
“Can I help you?” It was the guy from the coffeeshop answering Mitch’s overly confident knock now, not Faith. Yep. This seemed about right. “If you’re selling something, we’re not interested.
We’re.
Mitch’s throat closed around a lump, his words getting trapped behind it. “Hi. Um.” He coughed into his fist. “Not selling anything. I live across the way.” He peered around the man, stealing a glimpse into the apartment. “Is Faith around?”
“I’m right here.”
From behind, Faith was ascending the concrete staircase leading to their second story apartments, her hands clasping two canvas tote bags that bore the Main Street Market’s logo inbright red. Mitch jogged down to intercept her, taking the bags. “Let me.”
“I see you’ve met Anthony.” She looked up at the man still hovering in the doorway, watching over them like some silent judge.
“Not really,” Mitch said. “We haven’t been formally introduced.”
It was a mental game he wasn’t prepared to play, but he braced himself for the inevitable news—the official introduction to Faith’s boyfriend. Mitch knew he would have to work hard not to convey on his face what he would feel in his heart, but he could do it. He just needed to focus.
“Anthony, Mitch.” Faith nodded between them like this was a fast-paced tennis match. “Mitch, Anthony.”
Following her inside to settle her things onto the counter, Mitch hung back a moment, the persistent need to inform Faith about the soiree lingering in his mind.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked, reading his prolonged presence as something different. “Assuming you haven’t eaten already.”
Could he sit through an entire meal with Faith and this Anthony guy? He could hardly make it through his whole cup of coffee back at Bitter Cold, and they hadn’t even been in his immediate vicinity there. Still, just their happy presence had made his stomach ache.
“I haven’t eaten, but I should get back—”
“I bought plenty of food.” She dismissed Mitch’s comment with a simple flick of her wrist, then added with a laugh, “Anthony can pack it away.”
