“You and Granny are becoming awful friendly.”
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “She didn’t even threaten to shoot me. Must mean we’ve bonded.”
An hour later, they were strolling through downtown Willowbrook carrying cups of coffee. Sunlight stretched across the sidewalks. Snow still clung to the mountains in the distance, but the air had finally started to hint at spring.
Summer walked beside him looking lighter than he’d ever seen her. He caught her smiling at a lot—storefront displays and a dog hanging out a truck window, tongue lolling out of his happy face.
Pope found himself watching her more than the town.
“You’re staring again,” she said without looking at him.
“Probably.”
“I’d tell Ben that staring is rude.”
“I’m still learning how to date his mom. I think he’d understand.”
She laughed into her coffee cup.
There it was again. He touched the small of her back as he guided her into the next shop filled with trinkets for tourists who visited the quaint mountain town, the warmth of her body lingering on his fingers long after he moved his hand.
They wandered through several more shops with no real destination, and Summer browsed a selection of candles she claimed cost too much money even as Pope considered buying all of them anyway.
At another store, he spotted plastic movie snack trays shaped like old-fashioned drive-in boxes. He picked up three.
Summer eyed him. “What are you doing?”
“We need equipment for movie night.”
She snorted. “I have bowls we can use.”
“I think Ben will appreciate these.”
A few minutes later he walked out with a bag and Summer shaking her head. “You’re spoiling us. First ice cream, now the promise of popcorn and candy?”
The “us” lodged in his chest, and there was no pretending her words didn’t affect him.
They browsed nearly every shop on the street, including the bookstore owned by Felicity, whose boyfriend Gabe was a former vet from the therapy program. Pope leafed through a book of old maps, listening to Summer and Felicity chat about books appropriate for a seven-year-old boy.
When they left the final shop, Summer hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow, spreading warmth through him. “Home for lunch?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ve got other plans.”
He held the truck door for her to climb inside and drove the short distance to the fanciest restaurant in Willowbrook.
She saw the sign and froze. “Prairie Ember?”
“I hear it’s good.”
“I hear it is too, it’s just…”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s fancy. I’m not dressed for fancy.” She glanced down at her boots, jeans and sweater that he’d been thinking about stripping off her all day.
“You look amazing to me.”
“Vander.” Worry edged into her voice. “Couples come here for anniversaries.”
