Page 98 of Bonfire and Bliss Bookstore

Chapter 30

Penny

“Don’t run too far!” my mother calls as Henry and Quinn take off toward the fields again after lunch. We’re seated outside the big house at the picnic table and, while I really do have to get back to the store, I take a moment to revel in how nice it has been spending the morning with my mom, Tally, and the kids.

I stand to start stacking the plates. “I’ll help you clean before I go.”

My mom puts her hand over mine. “Just sit for a minute with us.”

“Yeah, I feel like it’s been forever since it’s been just the three of us.” Tally flashes me a grin. “And I’m dying to hear how things are going with Monty.”

“You saw him today.” I roll my eyes. “We’re fine.”

“Seemed more than fine to me,” my mother says, giving me one of her knowing smiles. “That boy seems positively smitten.”

“What’s his plan anyway?” Tally asks. “He’s writing his book and then what? Will he go back to New York City?”

I shrug, hating how the thought makes my heart ache. Hating how I’m too chickenshit to ask Monty his plan because I don’t want to put pressure on him. And maybe because I don’t want to know the answer?

“We’re taking things one day at a time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” my mother chimes in. Her eyes drift toward the green tractor that sits to the right of us, partly hidden behind a tree. As if a tree could mask the reminder that this year there will be no haunted hayride. Or how much we miss my dad.

“I just remembered I left the oven on,” my mom says quickly before getting up and disappearing.

I groan as I turn to Tally. “You saw that, right?”

She nods in response as her gaze drifts toward the tractor.

“We should figure out a way to do the haunted hayride this year,” Tally murmurs. “I talked to Walker and he said he can get everything set up with some help from the town—”

“Anything he needs,” I interrupt. “I’m in.”

“Okay,” Tally says decidedly. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Anything for Mom, right?”

“Exactly. Anything for Mom.”

***

That afternoon, I spend hours packing orders and updating my Instagram page with new content. I even take a chance on reaching out to the author of one of the books I posted about that went viral, asking whether she’d be open to sending some signed bookplates to the store. Then when her books arrive, I can surprise the customers with her signature. Readers love that type of thing.

The viral posts are working exactly as I hoped they would. I’m gaining more and more followers, which will hopefully help me continue to grow the store. I’d like to think that’s another way I’m honoring my father. Chasing my dream, just like he would have wanted me to do.

Once I’ve ticked off most of the jobs on my to-do list, I settle down in the window seat, a pumpkin spice chai latte in my It’s Fall, Y’all mug and “Feels Like” by Gracie Abrams playing in the background. I take a deep breath as I consider what I’m about to do: write out every sexual fantasy I’ve ever had.

I wasn’t lying when I said I loved every second of last night.

I find it easier to manage my feelings toward Monty when he’s like that—possessive and aggressive, like he’s playing his part in our fucked-up production—than when he’s sweet and soft with me, like I’m his best friend that could be more.

Because like I said to Tally earlier, I don’t know what Monty’s plans are after he finishes this book. So, though I know he cares about me, I need to guard my heart so I don’t get hurt if he leaves. If I manage to keep us in this box by following the rules of our agreement and taking the emotion out of it, then I can safely explore the things I want to. And God, do I want to.

At seven p.m., when I receive a text from Monty, my heart pounds.

Monty: Five thousand words. Where’s that list, Xuxuzinho?

This is what I want to focus on. This is what I need from him.

With a deep breath, I take a photo of my chicken scratch and hold my breath as I wait for his reply.