I said, casting my eyes down momentarily. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m supposed to present an award at the grandstand so I should get going.” He paused, his eyes lingering on me. “There’s a concert in the park next weekend. It’s not as big as this event, but it’s a nice time, especially if the weather cooperates. Maybe you’d like to go?”
I felt a small thrill between my ribs. Was he asking me on a date?
“You too, Hale,” Gage said, not looking at Travis.
Okay, maybe a group date?
“We already have plans to go to the Crawfordsville Antique Fair next weekend,” Travis said smoothly.
Hold up, what? My head whipped toward Travis, but his eyes were glued to Gage. Gage stared back, his lips tipping slowly.
“I didn’t know you antiqued, Hale,” Gage said. “Do you crochet too?”
“Ha. Funny joke,” Travis said, glancing at his fingernails as though he was more bored than amused by Gage’s humor. “No, no crocheting.” He smiled at me. “But, Haven’s inspired me to try all kinds of new things,” he said, pausing for a beat. “Plus, the flimsy bachelor pad furniture I’ve been living with is getting old in more ways than one. I’ve decided it’s time to invest in more permanent pieces.”
Gage’s eyelids flickered minutely and he nodded slowly. “I agree. Completely.”
Travis regarded him placidly. I noticed that he didn’t add any version of, “You too, Buchanan,” in reference to our apparent antique fair outing.
“I was sorry to hear about your breakup,” Gage said, and I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on between the two of them at the moment, but Gage did sound sincere. Travis merely grunted. “Have things changed . . .” Gage moved his finger back and forth between the two of us.
“No, no,” we both said at once, looking at each other and laughing awkwardly. “Still just friends,” I murmured.
Gage was looking at me now. “I . . . see.” He paused, a smile gathering. “If not this weekend, dinner Wednesday night? I know a great place right on the water.”
A breath caught in my throat. A date. Dinner, just the two of us, was definitely a date.
“Oh,” Travis said, making a low hissing sound between his teeth. “Isn’t that the night Betty has the . . . thing?”
I looked at Travis, leaning forward. “The . . . thing?”
“Right, you know, the—” He widened his eyes very slightly.
“Oh right!” I said, looking back at Gage. “Betty has a thing. She needs me there. For the . . . thing.”
Gage looked slightly amused, and slightly perturbed. “Friday?” he asked. “What about Friday?”
Before Travis could get a word in, I said quickly, “I’d love to?” My eyes widened at the question I’d added to the end. “I’d love to,” I amended.
Gage smiled. “Great. What’s your number?” I gave him my phone number and he quickly entered it in his phone. “Maybe you’ll tell me more about those possums you love so much.”
Oh, Lord. I felt the heat infuse my cheeks but couldn’t help smiling.
He began backing away. “See you both later.”
“Bye.” I watched as he turned and headed in the opposite direction.
“There you go. The perfect day just gets more perfect. Gage Buchanan asked you on a date.”
I turned to Travis. His expression was curiously blank. “Antique fair?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It was the only thing that came to mind that’s going on next weekend. Anyway, it worked, didn’t it? You got a free concert in the park, surrounded by hordes of people, elevated to dinner alone at what I’m sure will be the priciest joint in town.”
“What was wrong with Wednesday?”
“Always hold out for a weekend date, Haven. I’m surprised you don’t know these things.”
“Strategy?” I asked.
“Strategy,” he confirmed.
“A date, with Gage.”
“Yes, Haven, a date. With Gage. A weekend date with Gage. And I think you have my . . . adequate muscles to thank for giving him that extra push of competition.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Travis. You’re a valuable wingman.”
He nodded but his smile seemed forced.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Travis
Each of the crew took a turn in Clarice’s booth, stumbling out one by one, their expressions ranging from pleased (Betty), to confused (Cricket), to radiant (Burt).
Haven joined Cricket in the confused category as she ducked out from under the curtain, but her face quickly lit in a grin as her eyes fell on me. “Your turn,” she said, laughing and pushing me inside.
The interior of the booth was dim and muggy, the whirring of a large fan in the corner shutting out the festival