“Insanely light sleeper,” Ben said into my ear. His breathwas warm. “Nobody,” he called up, his voice several notches louder. “Sorry.”
Clark muttered something, then turned the light off again. After a moment Ben said, still whispering, “Did not mean to offend by calling you ‘nobody,’ by the way.”
“I wasn’t expecting to be officially presented,” I replied. “Also, I’m not sure how we’d explain my being here. Unless we wanted to get into the whole shame-reel thing.”
“Doubtful he’d have the patience for that. He’s really crabby when he gets woken up.” He glanced at the window again. “More likely he’d just make an assumption, then tell everyone that first thing tomorrow morning at work.”
Clark had been both eager and thorough detailing Cardoon’s infatuation with Lana at the Pavilion. And my relationships had been the subject of enough conversation already. Not that this was a relationship. We were just sitting on a loading dock. Together.
“I think we made the wise choice,” I told him. “From what I hear, it’s all about controlling the narrative anyway.”
“You think that’s what this is?”
“We’ve got grapes, toothpaste, and shame,” I told him. “What else could it be?”
There was another bump, this time from somewhere off to the side of the building. We both turned, so I couldn’t see his face. But I did wonder how he was looking at me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Eight a.m. on estate sale day. And just as predicted, it was chaos.
“So much for no early birds,” Clark grumbled.
The lot had already been half full when Lana and I had arrived at quarter to seven. By the time the normal breakfast rush hit, enough cars were starting to line the curved road that Kasey had to go outside to direct traffic.
Clark grabbed some tickets from the spindle. “How’s the line?”
I waved at Cardoon, who was by it. He cupped a hand over his ear. “How many?” I called out.
“Five parties,” he reported. “Three more outside, but they’re all two-tops.”
“Where’s that bacon?” Lana asked, coming up beside me to stab two tickets on the spindle.
“Two minutes,” Ben told her.
When I’d walked in the door, he was already at the grill, readying for the morning rush. It wasn’t until about an hour later, as I was scribbling an order at the counter for Raymond, the UPS driver, that we’d finally exchanged a glance. Even then it was just a beat before he ran to the pantry for something.Still, I was keenly aware that now we shared not just a workplace, but a secret.
The night before, I’d decided to go shortly after we woke Clark up. Ben offered to walk me home, but I shook my head. I had the moon, and it just felt right for us both to return the way we’d come.
“So, this should be the point when I’m all nonchalant and don’t mention that we should do this again,” he said before I started down the ramp.
No longer did this honesty catch me completely off guard. I’d almost expected it.Wantedit. “And I,” I replied, “would feel totally uncool and just go, wishing I’d said something too.”
Right then, there was a sudden buzzing. Not a hummingbird, but a fat insect with sticky wings. Which I felt as soon as it landed, literally on my forehead. So much for looking cool. The next thing I knew, I was flailing and about to hyperventilate.
“Whoa,” he said as I batted at my face. “Hey. Hey. It’s gone.”
I still couldn’t stop, though. Until he reached out, stilling my fingers. I could feel myself blinking, as well as every ensuing heartbeat. “Are you sure?”
He lifted a hand, then ran his thumb along my forehead. Feeling it—feeling him, even in the tiny way—I was still aware of my pulse. But for different reasons. He smoothed my hair back. “I’m sure.”
For all the intimate talk, until then we’d not even touched the entire time I’d been there. When we finally did now, it was for the most awkward of reasons. Really, it felt right on-brand for us.
All the walk home, I kept reaching up to put my own thumb on the same spot, remembering.
Now the phone rang and I grabbed it. “Egg, how can I help you?”
“Where the hell are we supposed to park?” a man’s voice demanded. “Your lot is full!”
