Katsu and Fox growl in unison.
Cordie just laughs, but I can see she knows exactly what I’m talking about. Mum is going to be unbearable. She’s already cast a few smug looks our way.
“Well, tonight you are going to picnic under the stars.”
“No, thank you.”
Mum sets her stern gaze on Clint McGowen. “It’s not optional. Picnic. Love. Cute.”
“Is that going to be your slogan, Mrs Sol?” Clint shouts back. “I want mine to be warmth, full belly, beer.”
He’s so loud and unappreciated. Clint’s a good bloke. Works hard; no doubt he’s here because he couldn’t say no to someone. He’s got sandy blond hair, too big a smile and carefree blue-grey eyes.
“Oh, come on, you get to date me!” Holly says cheerfully, flipping her wild, curly black hair over her shoulder. She’s a tiny powerhouse of a beta and isn’t one to be underestimated. They’re two years younger than Cordie, but I know them fairly well.
“Yeah, that’s, um, great. It’s just pass,” Clint says loudly. “Like I’m sure your muff is good, but I’d rather appreciate it from a distance, a big one.”
Despite their bickering, the two get along really well, they work together. I’m not sure why Mum paired them up. Holly and Clint have been friends with a capital P for platonic since the day their mothers shoved them onto the school bus.
“Oh, come on, McGowen, don’t you want to bump muffs with me?”
Clint turns a little green and gags.
“I will!” someone shouts.
Clint whirls around and glares. “Shut your face, Owens. You wouldn’t know how. My best friend is going to get muffed by a pro.”
“Seriously, Clint?” Holly snaps indignantly.
“ANYWAY!” Mum growls into the microphone. “You have a night picnic, the stars, hot drinks, courtesy of Yolanda and Grigori. All the ingredients for romance.”
“What do we have to sign away now?” Clint asks in exasperation. “Do you want my soul? Lady, I am hungry. I was promised food.”
“If you’d shut up, we could go and eat,” Holly snaps at him and elbows him hard. The two break into a scuffle.
“Talk about your future, your dreams; tonight is all about the magic of what could be.”
“My dream is to eat some food!” Clint wails. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll feed you my fist if you’d like,” Holly gripes.
Mum shakes her head. “Go to the town hall and follow the instructions. I can’t with you anymore, Clint, I really can’t.”
“You love me, Mrs S. But you know ain’t no lady going to come between me and ma belly!”
Cordie is shaking, and when I look down, I find her laughing so hard she has tears in her eyes.
“Oh, he never changes.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I agree.
Mum narrows her eyes and then stalks off, bristling. Clint sets off for the town hall, leading the charge and muttering that there had better be a decent spread, or he was going to Angler’s Beach for pizza.
Town Hall is an old building built in a year that I should remember but don’t. All I know is that it is old and has a massive ceiling. It kind of looks like an old church, except without the religion and pews. Instead, the small town of Sunshine Cove uses it for everything from assemblies to meetings to weddings. And apparently now, dates.
We stand in line in the cold.
“What do you think is going to happen?” Fox says, and his eyes are gleaming. His hair is windswept, and in his clothes, he looks both expensive and unbearably handsome. I can see the edges of his tattoos, and for a minute, I get lost in the memory of tracing the constellations he’s got inked on his skin with my tongue.
