Page 71 of Do It With Me

My throat went tight and dry. “That’s very kind of you.”

She sighed. “Nah. Carol’s mom was one of my biggest supporters when I first opened the store. She was my first official regular and Carol herself sings my praises at her school. She’s sent quite a few other teenagers my way. I owe them, and besides, it’s what you do for your neighbors, right?”

“Right.” Fuck.

She squeezed my arm. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know.”

The words landed like a punch straight to the center of my being, but I forced a smile and shook my head. “You did this all by yourself, Ella. I just gave a few suggestions.”

She laughed, tilting her head to glance up at me with those green eyes still sparkling with joy. “You’re sweet when you pretend to be modest.”

If only she knew. God, if she only knew.

“I feel like this is what Mom would’ve wanted.” She gestured toward the crowd. “Something that brings people together, you know?”

I swallowed hard. “She’d be proud of you. I know I am.”

She looked up at me, her eyes soft and full of trust. “Will you come home with me later?”

For a heartbeat, I almost said yes. I wanted to hold her and pretend none of this existed, but I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to sound as wrecked as I was as I shook my head. “I wish I could, but there are a few things I need to handle. Just some work stuff.”

Her smile faltered just a little. “On a Sunday?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, it can’t wait.”

She studied me for a moment before she nodded. “Okay. We’ll take a rain check, then.”

“Definitely.” I glanced at my watch, knowing that if I was going to try to do this, I had to get started. Now. “In fact, I should probably get going. Thank you for inviting me. I loved it.”

She pressed herself up on her toes, her soft palms on my cheeks before she kissed me. It was quick and sweet, her lips a mere brush against mine before she pulled away. “Good luck with work.”

“Same to you.”

After giving my arm one last squeeze, she turned and walked back toward the crowd, waving to a couple of vendors. I watched her laugh with them and finally turned away, already pulling out my phone.

On my way back to my car, I scrolled through my contacts, already planning the calls I had to make and looking for anyone—any leverage, any legal wrinkle, any human decency—that might let me stop what I had set in motion. I didn’t even know if it was possible. I doubted it, but I had to try.

Before I lost her and the last part of myself that I could actually live with.