The store had a claustrophobic atmosphere. Long, narrow aisles and shelves were so tall they blocked the light from the fixtures overhead, bathing much of the merchandise in shadows. It was impossible for him and Hilary to walk side by side. Dane turned sideways to squeeze past a woman and her young son coming the opposite way.
“I’ve never seen so much…stuff,” whispered Hilary as they walked toward the rear of the store. At the end of the aisle, she stopped in front of stacks of shoeboxes. None of the shoes were on display. Instead, Hilary squinted to see the black-and-white sketches on the end of each box.
Dane slid a box from the shelf and opened it. “It doesn’t look like there’s much of a selection.”
“I’m not picky.”
She peeked inside the box he held out and wrinkled her nose. Dane put it back on the shelf, smiling.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try the outfitter?”
Hilary opened another box. “And pay five times the amount for a boot that isn’t exactly what I want? No, thanks.”
“You sure are budget-conscious for someone who insists she doesn’t have a head for business.” Dane opened another box. “How about this one?”
She put her box back on the shelf and looked at his. “I could live with those. I need a size eight.” Hilary walked over to the chair against the back wall, waiting for him to find her size. “It’s because I’m not good with bookkeeping that I need to be extra careful with my money.”
He took the shoes from the box. “Okay, I get it.”
Hilary slipped out of her boots to try the navy-blue athletic shoes. Dane squatted in front of her, slapping his knee so she’d put her foot up for him to tie the laces. She watched him with her hands in her lap.
“Tell me more about where you live,” she asked finally. “There’s a bakery and a lavender farm. What else does Clove have to offer?”
Dane glanced up. Her look was earnest, but there was a teasing lilt to her voice.
He concentrated on tying her shoe. “The town itself is very small but has a fun, laid-back vibe. Good leadership has brought in a few businesses, which have become destination shopping places—an outfitter, a farm-to-table restaurant, a few other things.”
“That sounds a little like Ulander, though it’s ten miles from our place. But it’s the closest town.”
“There’s also the state forest adjacent to our land, so lots of recreation—hiking, biking, fishing. Our farm sits in a valley, but we’re surrounded by hills.”
“Hmm, sounds ideal.”
Dane smiled. “It’s home.”
Hilary leaned back against the wall. “So do you have someone special back there? You know, a girlfriend?”
The loops he’d made with the laces weren’t nearly as tight as they could be. He pulled on them, releasing the knot to start over. “Not at the moment.” The sudden shift in topics surprised him. He wouldn’t mind moving on to another subject just as quickly.
“But there was.” It wasn’t a question.
He took his time answering. Did he suddenly grow an extra set of fingers on each hand? He was having the darnedest time tying the laces.
“It’s been a while.”
She nudged his hand away, taking the laces. “That’s really loose. Here, let me,” Hilary said, bending over her shoes. She’d retied them in no time, popping up to pace the floor, testing the fit.
Dane used the break in conversation to wander into the next aisle. Looking at auto air fresheners seemed safer than revealing more about his relationship status. The more he talked with Hilary, the more his attraction grew. Aside from questions about his love life, they talked easily, drifting from one subject into the next like they hadn’t met days ago. It had been like that the night before in the kitchen and this afternoon on the way to town. They hadn’t stopped talking since he pulled out of the driveway at Blueberry Point Lodge.
But that darned ring. They could talk until his voice grew hoarse, but it wouldn’t change the fact she was married.
Chapter Nine
Frozen Planet Ice Cream was filled with kitschy decor as Hilary suspected. It was a visual delight actually. Tangerine walls, chrome stools with floral vinyl seats, and a black-and-white tile floor made her mentally drool. If she updated her Pinterest boards more than once a year, she’d have to add a new board inspired by this place. Bubble lights strung near the ceiling encircled the room, and hundreds of stickers were plastered under the glass surface of the counter. A giant fiberglass cone in one corner begged for attention. Hilary took out her phone and spent a few minutes taking photos. She texted some to Jorie, including one of Dane mugging in front of the cone statue, his tongue out and eyes crossed.
Hilary ordered butter pecan in a sugar cone while Dane went all out, getting two scoops—one chocolate fudge, the other bubblegum cotton candy—in a waffle cone with whipped cream and sprinkles.
He took a spoon from the little metal pail on top of the counter.
