Page 44 of Love in the Time of Conversation Hearts

Epilogue

“Now, you know I’m not one to say I told you so…” I let my voice trail off as I stare pointedly out at the expanse of cleared land before us. “But I for sure told you so.”

Adam lets out a throaty chuckle and folds his hand over mine. “It’s funny because I feel like most people who hate to brag do it a lot less.”

I shoulder check him, but he barely budges. The man is solid muscle, completely immovable. And he’s mine. Has been for so long now that the Earth has warmed and the trees at the edge of the clearing have turned a vibrant green. Summer is here and in full swing. And soon, this ribbon cutting ceremony will be, too.

“I’m just saying, if it hadn’t been for my beautification initiative, we’d never have convinced a luxury chain like Whitman to build a resort in Heartsong of all places.”

Adam squeezes my hand and glances down at me with an arched brow. “Is now a good time to mention that their proposal to the council included a road widening project to ease the burden of traffic coming into town?”

My lips audibly pop open. “It did not!”

“You’ve been slacking on your reading, Cora.” He taps the tip of my nose gently. “Page sixty-nine of the proposal.”

“Oh, that’s why I missed it.”

That adorable wrinkle forms between his brows. The one I love to bring out with my asinine questions and taunting observations. It only works because he gives as good as he gets. Which is why… “Saw the page number and immediately got distracted with thoughts of you.”

It takes a beat, but he lets out a bark of laughter that startles the nearby crowd of townsfolk and council members, including Councilman Roberts, who has his toupée pinned to his head in a death grip meant to ward off the brisk breeze. Sturge scowls at us mid-conversation with the representative for Whitman Hotels and Resorts, a man I recognize from my internet deep-dive as the son of the founders and heir to their fortune: Everett Whitman.

Adam tugs at my hand, drawing my gaze back to him. He’s smiling wickedly, gray eyes now thick as smoke. “Might I be able to cash in on that fantasy later tonight?”

“Sure,” I say, my grin forcibly demure. “Your place or mine?”

He releases my hand to trail his fingertips up my forearm, leaving a line of goosebumps in their wake. I’m wearing a sleeveless dress in celebration of the warmth finally filling the air, and by the way he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off me, I’d say Adam loves it.

“Mine. I got some of that new white blend Lauren was talking about last week, and the ingredients to make carbonara. Thought maybe we could watch a movie after, or even go out dancing.”

I squint up at him in confusion. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing,” he answers too quickly. “Can’t I just plan a romantic evening for my woman?”

“Oh great; Channel Four is here!” Sturge shouts, his voice piercing the bubble around us. “Places, everyone! Let’s get this show on the road so we can all get back to work.”

My gaze cuts back to Adam, and I hold up a finger. “Let’s put a pin in this. I fully intend to interrogate you further once the big man has cut the shiny ribbon with the even bigger scissors.”

Adam finds Everett Whitman in the crowd and scoffs. “He’s not that big.”

The man is easily Adam’s height, if not a little taller, but there’s no use arguing with pride. I pat him on the shoulder and step up to join my boss for the photo opp. Adam follows suit, standing at Sturge’s other side.

Sturge gives an exceptionally dry speech about bringing new visitors to our town—one I wish he’d asked for help with because I’d have written something much better—and concludes by telling Everett how much he looks forward to our new partnership with his family.

Somewhere in the crowd, an annoyed scoff cuts through the murmurs of welcome. I lock eyes with Lauren, who I hadn’t even realized was present until now. She waves off my questioning gaze and turns to walk away before the ribbon cutting is even over. A glance to my right tells me Everett is more intent on watching my friend leave than doing his duty with the giant scissors.

After we all shake hands and finish with pictures, Adam slips an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest. “Is it just me, or did you get the impression that Lauren and that Everett guy have some weird thing going on?”

I try to shrug, but it’s impossible with the weight of him on my shoulders. “I’m not sure how they’d even know each other.”

Adam turns his wrist against my chest and we both glance at his watch. “When’s the next book club?”

My eyes widen, and I spin in his arms to face him. “Shit, it’s tonight. Adam, I completely forgot. Aubrey’s hosting, and I’m in charge of snacks this time. I can’t miss. I’m sorry!”

He deflates like a popped balloon. I’ve never seen him look so sad. He attempts to recover quickly, but he still has the appearance of a kid who thought today was Christmas only to find out it’s next week instead.

I step back and cross my arms. “Okay, what gives? Is there something going on tonight that I don’t know about? You’re being really strange.”

He shakes his head, reaching for me in an attempt to pull me back in, but I take another step. He grumbles his disapproval. “I was just excited to spend time with you, that’s all. And there was a mention of sixty-nining…”