a stray lock of hair off her face. “Okay, not the greeting I’m used to, but hello.” Her smile is warm, and there’s not a trace of makeup on her face. “Gretchen.” She extends her hand to me. “Sorry to startle you. I just came over to borrow dill.”
“Dill.” I pat my pockets absurdly like I might have some tucked away. “I—um—”
“I’ll get it.” Lily hustles away. “What are you making?” she calls from the kitchen.
“My famous salmon chowder.” Gretchen gives me that smile again, and my guts turn to chowder. “It’s a family recipe.”
I’m too dumbstruck to think of a response, so James comes to my rescue. “Gretchen is my brother Jonathan’s sister.”
“Your sister,” I repeat, only catching some of his words. Seriously, I had no idea sweatpants could be so sexy. How have I never met this woman?
“Not his sister.” Gretchen shoves her hands in the pockets of her blue hoodie, which matches her eyes almost perfectly. “The Bracelyn family tree is kind of a mess. Jon’s the second oldest, but we have different dads. I’m not a Bracelyn at all.”
Lily rushes back to us with a glass jar and presses it into Gretchen’s hand. “Gretchen’s been staying out here while she’s at OSU Cascades. She’s an adjunct professor and an absolutely brilliant researcher.”
“A researcher.” I look back at her, watching as her eyes scan my face. I brace for the flicker of recognition in her eyes. For what comes next. What always comes next.
Wait. Didn’t I see you in an article about—
Aren’t you the guy who—
Don’t I know you from—
“Want some soup?”
I blink as Gretchen holds up the glass jar of dill. “This is the finishing touch. I made a ton of it and I heard you say you were starving.”
I did say that.
But I also said I was leaving. Hitting the road, getting far, far away from here as soon as possible. I should definitely do that.
“I’d love some soup.”
What the hell?
“Great.” Gretchen grins. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. And I’m hoping you’re a friend of James and Lily and that I didn’t just invite the vacuum cleaner salesman to dinner.”
“Gabl—Gabe,” I stammer.
God, that was dumb. Even with the abbreviated version of my name, she’s going to recognize me. Put two and two together and figure it out.
Weren’t you the one who—
“Gabe and I are friends from school,” James supplies. “And Gretchen—reads a lot.”
I’m trying to figure out what that has to do with anything when she laughs again. “That’s his polite way of saying I don’t get out much. Probably why I’m accosting strangers with dinner invitations. It’s okay, you don’t have to come in and sit there making awkward dinner conversation if you don’t want. I can package up the chowder for you to take wherever you were going.”
Where was I going?
Right. The cabin. The remote cabin in the woods more than an hour from here. I should be getting on the road.
“I’m not in a hurry,” I hear myself saying. “I’d love to join you.”
“Great.” She quirks an eyebrow at James and Lily. “You’d tell me if he was a serial killer, right?”
My gut twists at her words. I’m grateful she’s not looking at me. That she missed the wince, the flash of guilt I’m positive flickered in my eyes just now.
But James catches it. He’s staring at me, icy gaze boring hard into mine. “Not a serial killer.” He speaks the words to me, like he’s willing me to believe them. “Not a murderer of any kind.”
Gretchen cocks her head, eyeing him curiously. “You know, it’s a little hard to take you seriously when your face is covered in lipstick.”
“What?” James swipes a palm over his face, missing the biggest smear by half an inch. “Where?” He turns and frowns in the mirror by the door, then makes an exasperated noise. “Was someone going to tell me?”
Lily shrugs and turns with her tissue to mop her handiwork off his face. Gretchen regards me with a curious look. “Not a very good friend, Gabe. Letting your pal walk around with lip prints on his face?”
“I’m kind of an asshole.” Might as well put it out there.
Gretchen smiles. “In that case, should I rescind my dinner offer?”
“No soup for you,” I quip, doing my best imitation of the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld.
Gretchen blows a strand of hair off her forehead with a vaguely sheepish expression. “Okay, I’m guessing that’s a movie reference.”
“Television, actually.” Wait, she’s never heard of the Soup Nazi?
“I don’t watch that, either.”
“What?”
She shrugs, hands fisted in her hoodie pockets. “Movies, TV—any of it. I don’t even own a television.”
I’ve never heard of such a thing. “Are you Amish?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “I’m a research scientist. And a PhD candidate. And a professor. Not a lot of time in there to add TV junkie to the list.”
Lily finishes swiping the lipstick off James’s face and turns to join our conversation. “We’re sort of hoping once she finishes her dissertation, she’ll become one of us,” she says. “Binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy and Stranger Things over large quantities of wine.”
“Dare to dream.” Gretchen holds up the dill and takes a step back. “I’d better finish my chowder. Gabe—come on over when you’re ready. It’s the cabin next door. Jon and Blanka’s place.”
I know I should get on the road. I’ve got a ninety-minute drive ahead of me. This is my chance to back out. To be alone. To get in my car and drive far, far away.
But as I look at Gretchen, I know I’d walk on my lips across crushed ice to eat a bowl of cold oatmeal with her.
“I’ll be right over.”
***
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to the best street team an author could ask for, Fenske’s Frisky Posse. I’m especially grateful to Nicole Westmoreland, Rachel Kennedy, Kim Adams, Jennifer Holter, and Regina Dowling for your help catching typos in the advance reading copies. Big hugs to Adrienne Bird for naming Andrea, and to DeeJay Sakata, DeAnna Caudillo, Dawn Bekenyi, Karen Fernandez Vickers for naming all the Judson siblings.
Much love and gratitude to Susan Bischoff and Lauralynn Elliott of The Forge for being kickass editors (though I should probably consult you on whether “kickass” is one word or two). I’m also super-grateful to Lori Jackson Design for the teaser graphics and banners.
Meah Meow, you’re the most badass assistant I could wish for, and I appreciate everything you do to keep me organized and sane. Okay, just organized.
Thank you to Judah McAuley for the awesome little math sequence in Vanessa’s inner monologue in chapter 12. Hopefully my math-challenged author brain didn’t warp it too much.
As always, I’m thankful for Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency for talking me off more ledges than I can count.
Huge hugs and smooches to my family, including Aaron “Russ” Fenske, Carlie Fenske, and Mr. Paxton, along with the best parents in the universe, Dixie and David Fenske, and my awesome kiddos, Cedar and Violet.
And to Craig Zagurski for being the best quarantine companion I could have asked for. Let’s grow old disgracefully together.
About the Author
When Tawna Fenske finished her English lit degree at 22, she celebrated by filling a giant trash bag full of romance novels and dragging it everywhere until she’d read them all. Now she’s a RITA Award finalist, USA Today bestselling author who writes humorous fiction, risqué romance, and heartwarming love stories with a quirky twist. Publishers Weekly has praised Tawna’s offbeat romances with multiple starred reviews and noted, “There’s something wonderfully relaxing about being immersed in a story filled with over-the-top characters in undeniably relatable situations. Heartache and humor go hand in hand.”
Tawna lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband, step-kids, and a menagerie of ill-behaved pets. She loves hiking, snowshoeing, standup paddleboarding, and inventing excuses to sip wine on her back porch. She can peel a banana with her toes and loses an average of twenty pairs of eyeglasses per year. To find out more about Tawna and her books, visit www.tawnafenske.com.
Also by Tawna Fenske
The Ponderosa Resort Romantic Comedy Series
Studmuffin Santa
Chef Sugarlips
Sergeant Sexypants
Hottie Lumberjack
Stiff Suit
Mancandy Crush (novella)
Captain Dreamboat
Snowbound Squeeze (novella)
Dr. Hot Stuff (coming soon!)
The Juniper Ridge Romantic Comedy Series
Show Time
Let It Show (coming March 2021!)
Standalone Romantic Comedies
The Two-Date Rule
At the Heart of It
This Time Around
Now That It’s You
Let it Breathe
About That Fling
Frisky Business
Believe It or Not
Making Waves
The Front and Center Series
Marine for Hire
Fiancée for Hire
Best Man for Hire
Protector for Hire
The First Impressions Series
The Fix Up
The Hang Up
The Hook Up
The List Series
The List
The Test
The Last
Standalone novellas and other wacky stuff
Going Up (novella)
Eat, Play, Lust (novella)