Jane took another step in Annie’s direction and made a game of it in her head. She would count the number of steps it took before Annie noticed her approaching. If history was anything to go by, the next step she took in her wife’s direction should surely do the trick. Annie would flash her a smile or give her a quick wink. She would pause her conversation for a fraction of a second to acknowledge Jane’s presence, to express her contentment at seeing her, because those little gestures, however tiny and insignificant to anyone else, were a significant part of who they were as a couple.

But, tonight, Annie seemed transported to another world. Whatever she and Kristin were talking about must be of extreme importance because Annie didn’t give any sign she noticed Jane was anywhere near her at all. Annie had her head cocked, her gaze glued to Kristin, a blissful smile on her face. What on earth was Kristin telling her? That she was the world’s best book shop owner? That bringing the Pink Bean into Annie’s Book Shop was the best decision she’d ever made in her life? Going by Annie’s smile, it had to be some sort of praise for Annie. Why else would she be looking at another person with such a radiant grin plastered across her face? And why would she seem to have forgotten all about Jane’s existence? Jane was only a few feet removed from her wife, and Annie still hadn’t noticed her.

Jane tried to catch snippets of their conversation. Kristin was doing most of the talking now.

“You should see my father manning his barbecue,” Kristin said. “I swear to you, I’ve caught him whispering to the thing.”

Annie gave a deep-throated chuckle. As if Kristin had just made the world’s greatest joke. She must have said something else earlier to have Annie gawking at her like that with such… admiration on her face. Yes, that was the vibe Annie was projecting. That she admired Kristin greatly for something.

Jane took the final step and cleared her throat.

For a brief moment—the instant during which Jane had expected a quick grin from her wife—Annie froze and looked like she’d seen a ghost instead of Jane. Or at the very least like Jane was interrupting a meaningful conversation.

Jane couldn’t possibly guess what that could be. They were talking about Kristin’s father’s barbecue. Jane was sure the man was very fond of it, but to her it seemed like one of the dullest topics to discuss—or perhaps that was just her natural aversion to small talk popping up.