“Have you heard from your grandmother?” Mitch took a swig of his soda once the server came by with their drinks. The carbonation was bubbly and refreshing, making his nose scrunch. “How’s she doing?”
“Giving the staff a heck of a time, as to be expected. But her spirits are good, even if a little ornery.” Spencer had opted for a wheat beer and threw back a big gulp, then hissed after the burn. “I know she’s thankful that Faith stepped in to help out, though. That’s taken a big weight off her shoulders.” Just then, Spencer’s eyes slanted out the window to his right, and he tipped his chin. “Speak of the devil…”
Just on the other side of the glass stood Faith, looking like she was about to turn into the very restaurant they were currently seated at. Suddenly, Mitch’s heart danced out a quicker tempo, and his lips buzzed with the memory of their shared kiss from the night before. Whatever he was feeling on the inside didn’t stay there because Spencer gave his friend a side eye glance.
“Is there something going on with you two?”
Faith pressed into the restaurant, lingering to hold the door open for another guest passing through after her. She smiled at the new customer before heading toward the counter to place a to-go order.
Mitch turned back around. “I’m not really sure. I think so. Maybe.”
“She’s a good woman. Her dad was a really great guy. I was so saddened to hear of his passing. He did a lot for the community. S’pose Faith’s doing her part to keep that legacy going.”
All of that was true, and only made Mitch’s feelings for the woman grow all the more. She was kind and thoughtful while still being assertive and tenacious. A combination of both sweet and sour, just like those tangy lemon meringues of hers. Mitch honestly loved everything about her.
Whoa.
He grasped the table, his inner thoughts physically rocking him.
“You okay, buddy?” Spencer asked just as their lunches were delivered. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“More like the future,” Mitch said, his attention circling back to Faith. She had yet to notice the men, too busy in friendly conversation with Connie at the counter.
He knew he liked her, but this was the first time he realized he could absolutely fall in love with her.
Maybe a little bit of him already had.
CHAPTER 20
She had wanted to kiss him.
When she glimpsed Mitch sitting across from Spencer at the Cornerstone Café the day before, she’d wanted to greet him by pressing her lips firmly to his. She’d wanted to throw her arms around his neck and spin around in his embrace and never let go.
Of course, she hadn’t done any of that.
She had settled on a handshake—ahandshake—of all things. Not even a hug. But she just couldn’t read the situation and didn’t know what was okay and what wasn’t.
They hadn’t really talked about any sort of relationship status. For all Faith knew, the kiss might have been a one-time thing. Possibly even a mistake.
Still, that didn’t change the fact that she’d wished she could have kissed him then.
And it did little to change her polar opposite desire to jostle him right now.
“Anything else?” There was a well-placed bite to her tone, her sarcasm as heavy as the tension in the big, empty banquet hall.
“I know it feels like a lot,” Mitch apologized again. He’d been doing a lot of that. In fact, every time he brought up anew infraction, he led with,“I’m so sorry, but there’s one more thing.”
That ‘one more thing’ turned into an entire laundry list of to-do’s to check off before they had any real hope of getting a special event permit issued.
There were things like extension cords, fire extinguishers, signage, and table placement. Everything needed to comply, and while each task was doable, it just added to Faith’s mountain of responsibilities.
“I can help you with a lot of this,” Mitch had reassured, but in many ways, it was easier for Faith to just tackle it all on her own. Mitch had his own job to do.
So that meant that she didn’t get home from the community center until close to ten o’clock that evening. She’d dumped her purse and coat at her apartment door, noticing another leaf had fallen from her fiddle leaf fig. Fitting. She felt just as wilted as that sad little plant.
“You’re home late.” Anthony glanced up from where he was seated on the couch with his laptop. The glow of the computer screen was the only light within the otherwise dark apartment.
“Looks like you’re working late, too.” She flicked on the overhead light in the kitchen, her eyes straining against the bright, incandescent glare.
