“Best day ever, Drew.” He takes my hand in his as we wait for the water to heat up. “Every single second of it. Thank you.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

So I don’t say anything at all.

Instead, my fingers find his hair again and I pull his mouth to mine. And I don’t let go. Not when we’re in the shower, and not after when we get dirty all over again.

And again.

CHAPTER 19

The world is a little bit brighter when you’re getting it good on the regular.

The air smells sweeter, food tastes better, sleep comes easier.

My skin is clearer.

This must be what people in musicals feel like. So happy that you have to burst into song at any given moment. It’s just too bad I can’t carry a tune.

Three weeks have passed in the blink of an eye.

“So I’m thinking the bar could go right here.” I show Mr. Jenkins the spot where I want to install the coffee/wine bar in the Book Nook. “You can see that we don’t have a ton of free space, so I’ll need it to be compact and efficient.”

He scratches a few things down on his tablet before snapping a few pictures of the space.

“I think this is the perfect space for what you want.” He adjusts the stylish gold-rimmed glasses that look so good on his round face. “And your timing is great. We’re finishing up a project now, but then we’re free to get started within the next month.”

After I talked to my mom about the coffee bar, she convinced me to take the leap. The store can’t cover the cost on its own right now, so I am dipping into the money Gran left me. It feels right spending it this way. She would’ve liked it.

I interviewed more construction crews than I ever wanted to and finally reached the final two. I’m between Mr. Jenkins—who I know from when I went to high school with his son—and Henry, whose estimate was a little lower, but it would take him longer to get in here and get it done.

Either way, I don’t think I can go wrong. They both had a ton of positive reviews and seem to think it will be a pretty easy project.

“That would be great, Mr.—” I stop and amend my sentence when he narrows his eyes at me. “Sorry, Mike. Old habits and all.”

His straight teeth are a bright white against his dark brown skin. I wasn’t the closest with his son in high school, but Mr. Jenkins was at every sporting event, cheering on the teams and donating to every fundraiser we had. He’s a great guy and I’m about ninety-nine percent sure I’m going to go with him.