Page 48

“For the record, it works terribly. But I guess that’s his problem.” I look out the front of the glass enclosure. Big mistake. We’re still way too high up for my liking. I rocket my gaze back to Beth. “So what happened with you guys?”

She takes off her glasses and wipes the lenses with her mittens. “He broke up with me about a year ago when he moved into Chicago. He didn’t want to be long distance.”

Chicago is only about an hour from Dasher Valley—maybe a little more with traffic. I call bull. “That’s hardly long distance.”

“True.” Beth puts her glasses back on and tugs at the fringe of her scarf. “He wanted me to move with him.”

“Seriously?”

She nods.

“But what about the store?” Dash Away Books is as much a part of Beth as her glasses and her smile. I’ve barely spoken to her in the past half decade, and even I knew that.

She offers me a faint smile. “Exactly why I wouldn’t move. My life is here. I love Dasher Valley, and I’m trying to put down roots. Something I’ve never really had. I want to be like your mom. Invested in a community that appreciates me. I’m hoping to find a partner here in town. Someone to build a life with.”

“So he broke up with you, but now he’s back and that changes things?” If she hears the skepticism in my voice, Beth ignores it.

“I guess it does. He didn’t want to do long distance. I didn’t want to move. But if we’re both here in Dasher Valley, then maybe there’s hope for us yet.” Beth is staring straight ahead, but she turns in my direction. She narrows her eyes and waves a hand around in a circle in front of me. “Why is your face like that?”

“Like what?”

“You look like a baby who just got fed mashed peas for the first time.”

I screw up my mouth. “Typically people like my face, Collins. You got something against this?” I point to my cheek and flash her a smile that I know shows off my dimple.

This makes Beth laugh. “And here I was thinking how humble you always are.”

I smile and we fall silent.

“Seriously, though. That face?” Beth prods after a minute. Our gazes connect, and she looks so vulnerable. Like she’s worried about what I’m going to say.

I don’t think before I reach over and give her hand a squeeze. “That was me giving you my best supportive-friend look. I just want to make sure the guy knows what a good thing he has.”

She stares down at my hand and now I’m self-conscious. I pull away.

“Now you’re going to make me blush.” Beth’s voice is slightly breathy again.

The sound of it sends a filament of electricity coursing through my veins. “Blush all you want. It’s the truth, Bethy. And if Calvin being back in town makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

Wallace will be crushed, but I get the sense that guy will land on his feet.

Me, I’m not so sure about.

“Thanks.” Beth smiles at me. It’s a look of appreciation and . . . is that a hint of apprehension I’m seeing? Not sure if it’s aimed at me or if she’s thinking about her date with Calvin. Either way, I log it in my memory.

“It’s nice being your friend again,” she says quietly.

My heart squeezes. It really is. If friendship is all I can have with Beth, I’ll take it. I want to be happy for her and Calvin; I do. She wants a man whose life is in Dasher Valley. Clearly, Calvin’s now is. And he’s obviously successful. And he seems to adore her.

But after getting a taste of how it feels to hang out with Beth again—how easy it is to be around her, to laugh with her and talk to her, and after the way she comforted me before we headed up Valley Peak and truly seems to understand me—I guess I just want more of that. I want more of her.

I’ve known for a long time that Beth wasn’t meant to be mine. If she was, she would have answered my calls and texts after I moved to Nashburg. She would have let me explain myself, and she would have supported my career. But she didn’t. It’s over and done with now. We’re friends. I’m not about to put myself out there to get rejected by her again. She’d just be another in a long line of people who haven’t chosen me. So why do I feel like someone just thrust my heart into an ice bath?

“Ditto,” I say, though the word almost breaks me.

There’s a heaviness in the air of our orb—like the weight of the past has collided with our present and is pressing in all around us.

“So”—Beth digs through her bag—“now that we’ve got the money from the Kells, we’ll need to shop for supplies. Hopefully Craft Corner still has some of its sales running.”