“I’m suddenly not feeling well,” I say, jumping up from my chair and clutching my stomach.
“Oh no,” Emily says, eyes searching me head to toe for any unseen ailment. “Do you think you’re sick?”
“I’m afraid so. I feel like I’m going to barf.” I gather my purse and walk toward the door.
Emily stands too. “Here, I’ll come home with you.”
“No!” I say, whirling around. “No, you should stay here. I’m fine. It’s probably just my period about to start or something. I’ll call you if I need you.”
I can practically see her Antenna of Suspicion rising from the top of her head. At all times Emily is scanning for potential danger that could befall us siblings. And if that’s the case, I imagine her warning system is beeping off the charts with Will Griffin close by. I force my smile not to be too big.
“I promise I’ll be okay, Em,” I say, and Madison comes to my aid by telling Emily to sit down so they can start their game before midnight.
And then I leave The Pie Shop.
* * *
—
It’s completely dark outside except for the light of the moon and a few （but not enough） streetlamps. I mention it because it’s a big thing. At the last town meeting, it was put to a vote to install more streetlights or add a speed bump on either side of the town square and, of course, a speed bump won even though no one in the town wanted it. It’s no surprise that Harriet was in charge of counting the votes, and the implication of her tampering is heavy.
I’ve never contributed to the rumors that circled around Harriet’s manipulation because I don’t like to see anyone slandered behind their backs. But now, as I’m searching for Will in the dark and can’t see him without the help of an extra streetlamp, I’m ready to spray-paint It Was Harriet! in bold red letters across the windows of the market.
“Will?” I whisper into the stale night air while looking all around. “Williamson!” I don’t see him anywhere. Surely I didn’t just imagine him. Oh gosh, if I only imagined him out of my desperation to see him, I will have reached a whole other level of infatuation. Because yeah, I can at least now admit that it’s more than a crush on Will.
I like him.
A lot.
I keep trying to tell myself that I don’t, but the more times I say I don’t, the brighter his eyes look in my memory. The more I picture his face while reading my steamy books, the more I dream of him holding me at night. Actually, after our kiss the other night, I dream of a lot more than him simply holding me.
“Will! Where are—”
A hand shoots out from a narrow alley and tugs me in. I know it’s Will before I even see him because my skin has memorized the feel of his. The subtle calluses at the top of his palms and the way his hand swallows mine. And then there’s his smell. It’s so distinctly him, like he did his laundry in the ocean. Someone could blindfold me and spin me around and set me loose in a room full of people, and I’d still be able to find him.
I land in the alley, chest to chest with him. I can see his smile even in the dark.
“Hello, Annie Walker,” he says and uses his hand to brush my hair back from my face. A hot thrill spins like a tornado in my stomach. It’s so good to be near him again. I want to wrap my arms around his middle. I want to press my face into his neck. I want to clamp my legs around him and not let go.
Instead, I stand here and look up at him. “Hello, Will Griffin.”
“Have you had a good day?” he asks, and the attentive question shocks me.
“I have. I think I finally figured out what was missing with Amelia’s bridal bouquets.”
He lifts a brow as his fingers brush along my jaw. “And?”
“It needed a pop of pink.”
“Pink is always the answer,” he says with a grittiness to his voice that makes me want to lick it from his lips. What in the world is happening to me? Who is this woman who’s so full of desire and excitement? The astounding thing is, I think Will would let me if I asked him. He’d lower his mouth for me to get a better angle because it wouldn’t mean anything to him. This may all be new and exciting for me, but for him, kissing a woman in an alley would probably be normal for a Saturday night. And I’d do well to remember that.
“What are we doing tonight?”
He grins mischievously and his blue-gray eyes shine. “Something you’ve always wanted to do but have been too scared to.”
My stomach tenses. “You don’t mean…”