Page 68 of Once Upon a Fall

Did I suspect that the mayor was behind it? I did. Probably because I still haven’t called him to confirm the breakfast that kicks everything off. But why would I need to do that? He knows there’s a breakfast and that he kicks it off.

Pam’s well-oiled machine spiel was a hot pile of garbage.

Regardless, I was dropping the ball, and I think he was worried. And rightfully so.

I tried to tell Juliet that I was fine and could handle it. Why would I say that? Last night, I pretty much had a panic attack and then cried in front of Dean while sharing secrets I didn’t mean to with him. Like the balloon payment. My own dad doesn’t even know about that.

I think my worst offense was telling him we couldn’t kiss anymore. Of all the dumb things I’ve done recently, that is by far the dumbest. It even outranks hot-gluing a shower curtain rod, and that was seriously stupid.

Imagine how much better it would have been trying to finish this inn while sharing flirty moments and stealing kisses. It would have made everything much more fun. Also much more distracting.

The truth is, I was trying to protect future Rosie from being absolutely heartbroken. Now I’m thinking future Rosie needs to grow a pair. A little heartbreak never hurt anyone. Except the whole Sutton family and Jackson thing messed me up for quite a while, so maybe I was right.

Still, I don’t have to like it.

“Dean, can you please pass me the measuring tape?” I ask, my voice so formal I may as well have called him Mr. Alden and requested it in writing.

Things are so weird between us. I tried to make it lighter, telling him that Juliet is now my Fairy Taskmother, which he did smile at, but it wasn’t his normal half smile. It was like a quarter of one.

“Yes. Here you go,” he says, handing it to me, sounding slightly robotic. Our hands graze as I take it from him. My stomach flips, and I want to tell him we should throw caution to the wind and make out on this dusty LVP floor.

But I don’t. I take the tape measure and get back to it.

“Rosie?” someone calls from downstairs.

My eyes widen. It’s an Edna for sure.

Dean looks at me, and I put a finger to my lips. The universal sign for keep your gorgeous mouth shut.

I go over to him and whisper, “The Ednas.”

His dark eyes narrow with confusion, but then he leans in so his mouth is near my ear. “Edna B. has the dark hair.”

I really hope he didn’t feel the shiver that just ran through my entire body.

“You think I’d forget that?” I whisper back.

He shrugs, and I shake my head, smiling.

It’s a beat. An anchor. Something that pre-kiss us would have done.

We stare at each other for a second.

“Rosie?” one of them calls out, and the sound is a little closer now.

“Go,” Dean says, shooing me with his hand.

“Coming,” I yell, not wanting them to come upstairs and see a handsome man working on my baseboards. Which they would absolutely read into and then tell the town that I’ve got a hot man doing my bidding.

And my dad would be knocking on my door by tonight. Not to meet Dean. To check on me.

He’d be standing in a half-finished inn eleven days before every room is full, asking questions. And I have a real track record with questions lately. Last night someone asked me what was wrong, and I confessed the truth about a loan I’ve only shared with my siblings.

I hurry down the stairs to find the two women standing by the side table looking at the box of baked goods I’ve yet to do anything about. I hope the goodies survive until my guests arrive. My current one hasn’t shown any interest.

“Did Sadie drop these off?” Edna B. asks. And yes, I did get a little hit of dopamine when I knew exactly who asked.

“She did,” I say. “Would you like some?”