Page 4 of Sweet Valentine
“That isn’t an answer,” Patty quips. She doesn’t bother being chastened by the flat look he shoots her. It stokes some of the moxie that’s been missing in action this week, instead. She shoots him a saucy wink in return—only to burst intoinvoluntary, uproarious laughter for the second time that day when he abruptly drops both bags ofSweetheartshe had insisted on carrying for them. She may not know much about him, but she knows he isn’t a clumsy person. She’s happy to take the credit for reducing him to it. It makes her pride soar in a way she hadn’t even known she’d needed.
She watches him drop down to grab them, clearing his throat. “I like them fine, Patty,” he insists. “I’m just not wild about…”
“Valentine’s Day?” Patty finishes for him. He hands over a bag, nodding. She moves it palm to palm, wrapper crackling against her skin. “Me neither,” she admits.
Again, the sheriff just nods. He isn’t a loquacious fellow, she’d already assumed that. She doesn’t linger on it, adamant to let him be himself as vehemently as she’s let herself be herself. It isn’t as if they don’t have more clues to look for. Their first of the scavenger hunt had already been waiting against the cash register. She holds out the tiny envelope to the man who investigates for a living, even if the clue is sealed with a heart-shaped sticker.
His face is inscrutable as he plucks out the card. His sigh, however, flares with frustration with energy that’s shrouded in grays. Before Patty can question—or rather, decide if she wants to question it, he flips the card over, holding it out for her to read:
Among the pages, stories spin,
Where whispers of journeys once begin.
But if it’s love that you now seek,
Take a path where hearts can speak.
Beneath a roof where stars turn aglow,
Kisses exchanged so long ago.
Find the place where vows were said,
By lovers lost, but hearts still wed.
Pure habit has her reading it aloud. Patty doesn’t even realize it for a moment until she stumbles over the mention ofkisses,startled – only for the man to exhale, “Exactly. What on earth?”
Patty’s brows shoot up her forehead. Of their own volition, the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, almost smugly. “The old gazebo,” she explains. “There used to be all kinds of lore around it – about it being a lucky place to get married. Anyone who did had a long, endlessly happy marriage.” Here, she must bite down on her lip to keep from laughing again. “Until, of course, someone who got married there got a divorce, and that was that.”
She watched him rub his palm over his face. He shoves his bag of candies into his pocket, muttering something under his breath, and she almost misses it—and even then, she isn’t certain she hears him correctly. By the time she decodes it, his face is shuttered and he’s already opening the door for them to step back into the February chill:Yeah. Because divorce is evil.
She’s hung up on it, confounded, but willing to distract him out of the ornery mood he seems to have been propelled into. “Oh, there’s something on the back of it, too,” she chirps, locking up behind herself without even looking at the key.
Gruffly, he asks, “Another poem?” A sideways glance confirms he is bracing himself.
“Questions,” Patty answers out of left-field. “It’s questions for us to ask each other.” She lets out a pleased hum when he plucks the card right out of her hands and reads in a blunt, no-nonsense prescription:
Share with your partner three things you like about each other.
Share with your partner your biggest fear.
Share with your partner your ideal date.
Pointedly, he clears his throat—and, by then, it’s Patty who is already questioning: “How would they even know if everyone’s answering these? You don’t have to.” If they didn’t want to answer, who could stop them? She looks at him—his grouchy face—and can’t imagine him wanting to partake in makeshift-interrogation. Or act like this is a real date.
Maybe it’s that, that creases his forehead: having to honor something he’s signed up for, but not because he wants to do it. “They’re probably assuming we’ve got integrity, and I am a-okay with that.” He puffs his chest out, following her lead around the street corner she leads them down. “Do you want me to go first?” he just offers.
