Page 29 of The Birchwood House

Well.She smiled to herself.Maybe we’ll find out together.

The flea market was being held in the spacious basement of the antique store, and she took the stairs down to it right away without bothering to look for Evan in the upstairs of the shop first. She had a feeling he was the type of person to be exactly where he said he would be at a certain time, rather than someone who might dawdle perusing fascinating antiques. She herself was the kind of person who would dawdle, and she felt tempted to check out the shelf of antique books right by the front door, but she resisted the temptation and instead continued on her way down the staircase.

She reached the basement, which was full of tables, hanging lights, chatting people, and rows upon rows of delightful items. She scanned the room for Evan and saw him a moment later. He waved to her from across the flea market as soon as he saw her and then began to hurry toward her.

I guess he did let himself dawdle a little,she thought with a chuckle.He’s all the way over there after having gone exploring all the way down this aisle.

“Good evening,” he said as he reached her side. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she said. “How are you?”

“Oh, fine, fine.” He cleared his throat.

She blinked down at the floor, thinking to herself that so far, the date was proving to be very awkward. She glanced up at Evan and saw that he was watching her with a concerned expression.

Does he really think I’m some kind of damsel in distress?she wondered, squaring her shoulders and feeling determined to appear capable and self-sufficient.Surely I haven’t been acting like some kind of weepy female who needs pity—or a woman who needs an exorbitant amount of help deciding how she’s going to rebuild her front porch.

She waited for him to speak first, since she didn’t want to come off as nervous or needy. Evan blinked at her for a few more seconds, and then he said, “Have you ever had any of our famous Coral Sands fudge?”

“I have, but not in ages,” she said, brightening. “Are they selling it here tonight?”

“Yes, there’s a whole booth for concessions over there. They also have some spectacular strawberry lemonade. Would you like to try some?”

“Sure.” She smiled and they began to stroll toward the concession booth. The silence felt a little awkward, especially since she was beginning to notice people watching them with interest. “How do you know the lemonade is spectacular? Did you try it when you got here?”

He shook his head. “No, as the mayor I oversee the approval of licensing all our local vendors. Part of the approval process involves them bringing in samples of their goods.”

Audrey laughed. “That sounds like a great job, trying out samples of yummy food and drinks. Have you gotten to try a lot?”

Evan smiled—a smile so big it was almost a grin. Audrey’s stomach gave a bit of a jolt when she saw it, and she wished he would smile more often. His smile was really quite wonderful. “I definitely have,” he said. “But it’s not just me—our whole staff samples the food. The vendors do as well. It’s kind of like a giant potluck with lots of government paperwork involved.”

She laughed again, liking the way his eyes crinkled around the corners a little. They reached the concessions stand and he ordered them both pieces of chocolate and vanilla fudge along with two strawberry lemonades.

“My treat,” he said gallantly as she was reaching for her purse.

“Oh. Well, thank you.” She smiled at him and took the fudge that he was handing her. Their lemonades were ready a moment later, and they began to stroll around the flea market, sipping from their plastic cups and nibbling at the mouthwatering fudge.

“This fudge is even better than I remembered,” Audrey said, closing her eyes as she savored the sweet, creamy taste. “It’s award-winning, isn’t it?”

“That it is. And this lemonade hasn’t won any awards yet, but I think it would make a great contender. Don’t you?”

“I do.” She took another sip, relishing it. “Yes. Definitely.”

They strolled along in silence for a few more minutes, but the awkwardness between them seemed to be melting. After a while they came across a couple of antique jars that were filled with candy, one with M&Ms and the other with jellybeans. There were several small sticky note pads and pencils resting on the table next to the jars.

“Oh, look, a contest,” Audrey said with delight. “You have to guess how many pieces of candy are in these jars. I used to be so good at these when I was a kid.”

Evan smiled at her. “I was too.”

“Huh. Well, challenge accepted.” She grinned at him. “May the best citizen of Coral Sands win.”

He rolled back his shoulders as if he was getting ready to fight as he reached for one of the sticky note pads, and she was both surprised by and attracted to his unexpected playfulness. “You know what I used to do?”

“What?” she asked, grabbing a different sticky note pad. Hers was bright pink, and she’d chosen it on purpose because she considered it to be a confident color that said, “I don’t need anybody’s pity.”

“I used to think about who set up the jars,” he said, leaning to the side to look at the back of the jar of M&Ms. “I used to wonder if they just sat there counting out five hundred pieces of candy. Did they count a second time? How long did it take them?”

She laughed. “I thought you meant you had something you thought about that helped you figure out how many pieces were inside the jar. Here I thought I was about to get some secret knowledge that would help me win.”