Best Laid Plans

He shrugs as if to say what can you do? “Emily could write memos like nobody’s business, Gabe.”

I smile, loving days like today when he’s here, fully present, remembering. “So you went for it?”

“Do I look like a fool?”

“No, sir. You do not.”

Nor do I want to look like one.

Tonight, I resolve to bowl a game with the guys like I promised, find a way to get Arden the hell out of the bowling alley, and let her know I want to take her out.

Again and again.

When I exit Pops’s suite, I glance down the hall, peering left and right. I breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t see Darla.

But that’s stupid.

It’s not like she’s going to ambush me with tears or rage. Hell, we went on one date. That was all. Sure, she wanted another and said as much, but I wasn’t feeling it, so I said thanks but no thanks.

I have to deal with running into her, if it happens.

And when I reach the main floor, it does. She’s turning the corner, heading straight toward me.

She lifts her chin proudly. “Hello, Gabe.”

“Hello, Darla.”

She walks past me, looking straight ahead with a cold, stony-faced, I-don’t-even-notice-you stare, and I make my way to the parking lot, ready to move on. No more ladies’ man.

I’d like to be a one-woman man.





12





Arden





I survey the scene at Pin-Up Lanes. Retro tunes play overhead, and a stream of people smile and toast, having a good time.

My friend Finley from the next town over is here, and she and her new guy Tom are bowling. I stroll by her lane, tapping her on the shoulder after she finishes her turn.

“Hey, you. How’s your show going?” Finley’s a TV comedy writer.

“I have more than one hundred viewers, so I'd say it’s going better than my last show,” she says, her light blue eyes twinkling.

“Oh, please. I’m sure you had more than that.”

“I wouldn't be too sure about that,” she says dryly.

“Well, I’m glad the new one is doing better then.” I tip my forehead in Tom’s direction. “And how’s the new man?”

Her grin is infectious. “He makes me laugh and he makes me happy. And, well, I kind of can’t take my hands off him.”

I smile. “I suppose that’s how it should be.”

“I’m a big advocate of wanting to get your hands on the man you like.”

We catch up briefly on her life, when Tom comes over after taking his turn. He pecks a kiss on her cheek and says hello.

“You guys look like you’re having fun, so I’ll let you keep it up.”

I wander past the crowds, and find Vanessa at the bar.

“I’d say your Celebrate Summer Party is a huge hit,” I tell Vanessa from my perch at the bar, as I scan the crowd for Gabe. My purse is in Vanessa’s back room. My list is tucked safely inside a book in the bag. My plan is solid.

“Thank you. I’m pretty damn proud of this event, myself. Can’t believe I pulled it off.”

“I can. You’re kickass at everything you do. Do I need to remind you of how we used to wander past this bowling alley when it was that dilapidated, lamely named ‘County Lanes’? It smelled like bacon grease and half the lanes were broken, and you said, ‘I’m going to fix that up and add some style.’”

Vanessa laughs, and I swear the memory of her determined teenage self flickers in her eyes. “I loved bowling and retro clothes as a kid. I guess it just worked out.”

“It didn’t just work out. You made it happen.”

She lifts a glass and toasts. “To us. The Kickass Girls of Lucky Falls,” she says, using the name we bestowed on our trio when we were younger. “Well, minus one, but Perri’s surely out kicking ass and taking names.”

“And she’s doing that literally,” I say, raising my Riesling and clinking it to Vanessa’s water glass.

I take a drink of the crisp wine. I’ve deemed it the ideal pairing for going out on a limb. It’s fresh and bright, with an effervescent aftertaste. It’s ready to show off its flavors.

I’m ready too.

Tonight is a perfect night for a proposal. Gabe has finished his shift, he’s relaxed, and we’ve already planned to play a game or two here at the event. The Celebrate Summer fundraiser benefits the first responders in the county—the police, firefighters, and paramedics who have been tasked with harder than normal work thanks to the fires that raged for days in vineyards and across once lush, rolling green hills. That’s why the bowling alley, complete with karaoke bar, darts, pool tables, and twenty lanes, is stuffed to the gills. The first responders here have earned so much well-deserved support.

“You can’t beat the view tonight,” Vanessa says, her eyes drifting over the crowd and finding the pack of men from the station at lane twenty, including Gabe, Jackson, Charlie, and Perri’s brother, Shaw. Vanessa’s gaze lingers on Shaw for a beat longer than usual. Maybe two beats longer, come to think of it.

I shoot her a curious stare. “Are you checking out the Shaw view?”

She scoffs then grabs a glass of water and downs a gulp. “No way. I was just talking about all of them. They’re all the reason fireman calendars and fireman fantasies exist, right?”

I decide to let the Shaw issue go for tonight—I don’t need to give her the inquisition on a stare that lasted a little longer than usual. “We do seem to possess an embarrassment of riches in the hot fireman department. I bet Guinness World Records would like to know what we’ve accomplished in our little town.”

She wiggles her dark eyebrows and motions for me to inch closer as the music shifts to Elvis Presley. “Want to know why we have so many hotties here?” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I planted seeds. Hot fireman seeds.”

“And now they grow from the fields,” I say, laughing, as Gabe raises a hand from across the alley and waves at me.

My stomach flips.

Stupid stomach.

It’s just a wave.

Why the hell is my stomach flipping?

I wave back, rehearsing the words that I want to say to him later. I’ve mapped it all out.

So I have this idea . . .

I’d like to ask for your help . . .