She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”
The nonchalance in her stance doesn’t hide the pain in her voice. A moment later, she shyly glances at a tall blue-enameled tool cabinet with longing and sadness.
“You don’t come out here much, do you?”
“Not really. My mom does, though.”
I walk my fingers over a table and approach her. Rowe’s gaze darts up to meet mine before it flutters back down to the chain saw in front of her. She takes a cloth and dusts the top.
“Why don’tyouspend time here?”
She keeps her eyes on the saw. “I don’t know. It’s too hard, I guess.” She looks up into the rafters and around at the signs. “Some people want to visit where their loved ones spent all their time. Me? I just like to wear my dad’s old boots. Being in here reminds me that he’s really gone, that I’m actually on my own.”
I work my jaw at the realization that her dad’s deceased, and her parents aren’t simply divorced like mine. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It’s okay.”
The sadness in her voice rocks me to my knees. My heart cracks in two, and in this moment, I feel closer to her than I expected after what happened this morning. I also sense that she doesn’t want to keep talking about her dad.
So that’s why I whisper, “Why’d you kiss me? Really? It wasn’t about biscuits.”
Her eyes are glassy, about to spill with tears. She blinks and sighs. “Why’d you kissme?”
Well played. “You first.”
Sunbeam grimaces. “Promise you won’t kill me?”
“Kill you? No. But I might spank you.”
Her eyes bulge.
I round the counter and come to stand directly in front of her. The energy between us buzzes. Outside, the wind picks up and branches smack against the roof.
She tips her face up to study me, obviously hoping I’ll keep my promise to lightly punish her.
Just kidding.
Maybe not.
“It got out about who you are,” Sunbeam explains. “It wasn’t my fault. Cristina posted it on social media before you told me not to reveal your identity.”
“Ah.” Now it all makes sense. “That’s why I had an audience at the hardware store.”
“That’s why.”
I frown. “But that still doesn’t explain the kiss.”
She grimaces. “This morning there was a line of cars going up and down the road. People were holding signs out of their windows welcoming you.”
A laugh rips from my throat. “Really? So that’s why you kissed me? So that I wouldn’t see?”
She swallows loudly. “That’s why. You told me the whole thing about losing.”
“Yeah, as long as the press doesn’t show up, we’ll be fine.”
From my angle, this small firecracker of a woman looks so fragile, so in need of protection. Though I should be angry that my identity got out, I can’t be.
It’s impossible to be frustrated when my chest is squeezing my heart like I’m about to suffer from cardiac arrest.
