melodramatic sigh.
Of course she didn’t know him. Marie had to stifle a laugh. “Try me.”
“His name is Alex. He played the Cowardly Lion.” Marie tried to conjure an image of that character but came up blank. “I wish he would get some actual courage and ask me out so I could say no and we could be done with it.”
“Is he a nice boy? Maybe you should give him a chance.”
“But don’t you think I would know if I liked him? I mean, I like him. He’s fine. I just don’t like him-like him. I feel like when you like-like someone, you know.”
“How do you know?” And who was the one giving the advice here?
“You’re constantly aware of where they are,” Gabby said. “Like, literally in the sense that you probably have his class schedule memorized. But also, when you’re in the same room, you’re kind of . . . hyperaware of him.”
For some reason, Marie thought back to that last night in New York, at the Riccis’ apartment, when she was fixated on the inch of space between her forearm and Leo’s. But, no. This was about Gabby. “So there is someone you like.”
“You don’t know him, either,” Gabby said quickly and sped on ahead, signaling the end of the conversation—which Marie had to admit had been delightful.
Also, perhaps, illuminating for her own purposes. To a worrying degree.
When they emerged into the clearing, Marie forgot about her worries because the cabin was . . . done?
Almost, by the looks of it. Kai and Leo were on the roof, which was still unfinished on the one end. Her heart sped up with happy excitement. When Gabby took off running, exclaiming, “Oh my gosh! This is the best thing ever!” Marie had to agree.
“Hey, kiddo.” Leo waved to Gabby from the roof and looked around like he was looking for someone else.
Stupidly, it wasn’t until his eyes landed on her and he grinned that Marie realized she was that someone else. “Good morning!” she called.
The men came down from the roof and Marie showed Gabby around. She filled her in on the history of the cabin, telling her about her mother’s plan for it to be a family retreat. “I can almost feel her with me when I’m here,” she said, her voice catching a little.
She didn’t want to grow maudlin, so she cleared her throat and flashed the men a smile. “Gabriella and I are going down to the pub for lunch, and we thought you two might want to join us.”
Leo looked at Kai, who nodded. “Lemme show you one thing before we go.”
That thing turned out to be a wood-burning stove, which the men had just installed.
“This place is so cozy!” Gabby was turning in circles inside the small cabin, oohing and ahhing over it as if it was as magnificent as the palace itself.
“So now it’ll be all warm and toasty in here,” Leo said, ignoring Gabby and staring rather intensely at Marie. “If you know what I mean.”
She felt the blood rush to the surface of her skin. “I do surmise your meaning.”
“Let’s go eat,” she said as her face flamed. “Are you hungry?”
She realized too late that she’d asked that same question last night.
“I am,” Leo said, not even bothering to disguise how hard he was checking her out, “but—”
“Let’s go, then!” she exclaimed before clearing her throat and adding a more refined, “Shall we?”
He winked. “We shall.”
Lunch was great. The pub crowd, headed up by Imogen, was a lot of fun. Unstuffy fun. Even Kai had thawed a bit, pulling out a drawing and asking Leo’s opinion on his expansion plans for his workshop. Imogen kept dropping by and sitting with them for little stretches in which she and Marie would get to yakking like old friends—which he supposed they were.
Soon the two of them were organizing an impromptu hayride for the village kids. And Leo was stupidly happy to learn that Gabby was being included. In fact, Imogen’s niece, who was a little older than Gabby, was bussing tables since she was on break from school. But in reality she was spending more time with Gabby talking about the fact that they had the same favorite YouTubers than she was actually working.
“You can take them, right, Kai?” Imogen asked.
Kai looked at Leo. Leo knew he was thinking about their plans to finish the roof this afternoon. He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s almost done. I can finish it.”
“What’s almost done?” Imogen asked.
“Nothing!” Marie