Page 44 of Bonfire and Bliss Bookstore

Maybe it was easier forgetting all of this. How much I loved my father. How much he used to mean to me. How happy the six of us were, dancing and laughing. How it all just ended after my grandfather died and my parents divorced.

When Penny finally spots me, her copper eyes burn even brighter. “Remember when we used to dance to this song with your parents?”

“Yes.” I try to hide my emotions with a smile as I walk toward them. “Though I thought we were supposed to be setting up for the bonfire.”

“There’s still time for that,” my father scolds. “Come on, dance with your girl.”

He winks and steps back, taking hold of my grandmother and spinning her around instead. Vovo lets out a surprised laugh at being dipped and my heart cracks again.

That sound used to be heard so often. It’s another reminder that time—just like love—is fleeting.

“You still got the moves, Montgomery?” Penny’s teasing voice shifts my focus.

I shrug in response. “Not sure.”

I offer her a hand and, as she walks toward me, the black top she’s wearing beneath a long burgundy cardigan shifts higher, giving a glimpse of ivory skin that looks so soft I ache to touch it. She’s no longer sporting the adorable firefly makeup she was wearing earlier. Though she looks just as pretty, if not prettier, than this afternoon.

She slides her fingers into my hand and I pull her closer, swaying us both in time with the music.

“One two step, one two step,” she murmurs as we follow the steps my grandparents taught us. Her hips are warm against my fingers and I have to work hard not to squeeze her flesh.

“Like riding a bike,” I reply.

She chuckles as I step on her foot. “Some things never change.”

My gaze dips to her lips and I draw on every ounce of strength to not lean closer and kiss her. It would only take a few inches and a little bit of courage.

But capturing her mouth is a risk I’m not sure I’m ready to take. Because I could get lost in Penny Darling.

***

A few hours after I spun Penny around our living room the yard is filled with townspeople and the smell of burning wood and smoke fills the air. My father is strumming a Beatles song on his guitar while some of the kids cuddled up on hay bales by the fire sing along.

I spot Eli and Fletcher chatting with Walker and Tally, who, fortunately, left Daisy at home. Not far from them, the Liberty Ladies huddle around Penny’s mother, all deep in conversation and gossiping freely, I’m sure.

I’m acutely aware of Penny’s location at all times.

Just like when we were kids, she’s disappeared down by the water to the maple tree. She’s leaning against the bark, head dipped and focused on the Kindle in her hand. The only thing that has changed is that she used to have a flashlight and a paperback.

Seeing as everyone else is taken care of, I join her. It’s silly really—the whole point of this charade is for people to watch us, to put on a show for Hope Harbor. Yet, here I am, searching her out in the dark of night, hoping for a few minutes alone.

I tell myself it’s because of the lessons, for the book. We’ve only got limited time together, and I have a lot to learn. But I’m a damn liar.

The farther away from the bonfire I stray, the quieter it gets. The laughter and singing from farther up the hill sound like an echo as the bright glow of the fire fades into a flickering candlelight.

As I near Penny, the moon overhead provides a shimmering shadow of light that illuminates her form perfectly.

“Good book?” I ask, not wanting to startle her.

Penny’s eyes slide across the page—as if she’s finishing her sentence—before she lifts them to meet mine. With a small smile, she shrugs. “Just getting to the part where she figures out he’s had feelings for her all along.”

“Ah, so the tension’s about to snap?”

She shoots me a deadpan expression. “One lesson and he thinks he’s an expert.”

“Nope, still a lot to learn. Please teach me, O wise one.” I motion to the spot next to her. “Can I sit?”

“You don’t have to. I just needed a break from all the peopling.”