“Sure!” Wren said. “Are you here yet?”
“I am, I’m just parking the car. And I intend to scoff ice cream until I puke.”
Wren had seen that happen, and it wasn’t pretty. “I’ll toss you in the lake if you throw up,” she warned her, her laughter bubbling.
“Deal. Where are you?”
Wren squealed, thoroughly overexcited. It had been ages since she’d spent any quality time with Poppy outside of video calls and long text threads. Could anything be better than eating ice cream and catching up with your person in your favorite town? She eyed Dane… Well, she could think of one thing. Shaking her head—get behind me, temptation!—Wren arranged to meet Poppy by the bandstand in five.
She shoved her phone in her back pocket. “I’m so sorry, but Poppy, my best friend, has just arrived unexpectedly, and I need to find her.”
Dane nodded, utterly unfazed. “I get it,” he said, not seeming at all annoyed that she was blowing him off. “I’ll see if Hayes or Thom are in the beer garden and join them. Head over there with your friend, and I’ll buy you both a beer.”
“Thom’s Boston-based and has gone home. We’re not sure when he’ll be back in town,” Wren told him.
“Got it.”
Wren nodded, started to leave, but Dane’s hand holding on to her arm held her back. She looked up at him and took in his intense gaze, his heat-filled eyes. “If you want to pick up where we left off, later, you know where I live.”
Old Mrs. Kitchener’s place. She knew it well. She shoved her hair out of her eyes. “I’m not promising anything, Dane. Even if we sleep together, there’s no chance of more.”
His expression was more tender than she expected, and he loosened his hold on her arm to brush his thumb against her lower lip, pressing down in the center before dropping his hand. “Have fun with your friend, Wren.”
She nodded and walked away, surprised by how much effort it took to put distance between them. But being with Poppy, the person who knew her best, was what she needed right now. Girl time, Poppy’s honesty, and a little distance from Dane would straighten out her thoughts.
But she absolutely refused to look back, in case temptation was too much to resist.
* * *
After sampling far too many flavors of ice cream—because Poppy’s philosophy wastry everything twiceand Wren was incapable of saying no—they stepped into the entrance of the beer tent … and straight into chaos.
Wren scanned the crush and sighed. It was packed.
And the first person they found was Luna, arms out wide. She wore an ice-cream-cone inspired costume, with waffle-fabric leggings, and a pink and pistachio-green bodice, boobs about to spill. She looked like a dangerous sugar rush. “Mytwo favorite girls!” she boomed, her voice carrying over the loud music. “What do you think? Doesn’t my tent look fabulous?”
“It’s amazing, Luna,” Poppy told her after stepping into her arms for a tight hug as Wren struggled to take in the orange and black fairy lights strung across the pumpkin-orange fabric. Paper bats, suspended on fishing line, swooped low, and skeletons lounged against the support poles, looking like they’d had one too many craft brews. It was chaotic inside and smelled like pretzels, burnt sugar, beer, and the whiff of sunscreen left over from the day.
Casting her eye around, Wren spotted long wooden tables jammed with festivalgoers—sunburnt tourists, costumed residents, a combination of both. The servers wore costumes befitting a 1950s ice cream parlor, candy stripes in pink and green, and they maneuvered through the crush, carrying trays heavy with beer bottles and violently colored cocktails. In front of the wooden dance floor, a band dressed as vampires belted out popular, get-on-the-dance-floor hits.
“I am, even if I have to say it myself, very good at organizing the crap out of an event,” Luna stated, then took a sip from her bowl-like glass of red wine. Wren, noticing her overly bright eyes and her slight slur, knew that this wasn’t her first drink. Or maybe not even her second.
“How are you getting home, Lu?” she asked. “You didn’t drive here, right?”
Luna slapped her shoulder, harder than she meant to, and Wren winced. “Darling, what a question! I’m taking my broom.”
“Luna—” Poppy started. Then, finally noticing that Luna was as plastered as a poltergeist, she grabbed her arm to stop her from swaying dangerously. “OhGod. Remember that time Luna got drunk and swam naked in the lake, singing ‘Mary, Did You Know’?”
Wren remembered it well. Christmas six years ago was a day she wouldn’t quickly forget. Dammit, it looked like she would be on Luna duty and would have to put her godmother to bed. She’d rather attend a séance. Naked.
Then, with relief, Wren spotted Marsha, Luna’s PA and BFF, crossing the tent, looking calmly resigned. Once she reached them, she shook her head and threaded her arm through Luna’s. “I’ve got her, you girls go on now.”
Oh, thank all the gods all at once. Wren didn’t hesitate; she simply kissed Marsha’s cheek in gratitude, and she and Poppy bolted.
After waving at Cilla the tarot card reader, who’d done brisk business all day, they found an empty high table close to the bar. Poppy caught the attention of a passing waiter, placed an order for two beers, and pulled a face. “I’m not sure that beer and ice cream are a great combination, but if we are going to talk about my wedding, and I need to, then I need a beer. Or two dozen.”
Wren placed her elbow on the table and tipped her head to the side. She’d heard frustration and hurt in Poppy’s voice before, but not bitterness. “What’s going on?” she asked, her attention fully focused on her friend.
Poppy raised a shoulder to her ear. “I feel like I have the lead part in a drama someone else is directing,” she said, pushing a hand through her bright, wholly (and annoyingly) naturally blonde hair. Wren loved her friend with all her heart, but that didn’t stop her from being envious of her hair. “My mom is the director, Benji’s mom the producer, and I’m the dumb blonde in the corner, expected to nod along and do what they say.”
