In the Weeds (Lovelight #2)(9)

Sam drops down in his seat and scoops up his hat. Luka reaches across me for another handful of popcorn from Layla’s bowl.

“You undersold this meeting, La La.”

“They’re not usually this colorful,” Stella tells him, accepting a piece of offered popcorn.

“Yes, they are,” Layla and I reply in unison.

“Next up,” Dane glances down at the stack of papers on the podium and lets out a muffled groan. He glances at Caleb with a pleading expression. Caleb shrugs and Dane turns back to the room. “Ms. Beatrice, if you could kindly remove the WANTED posters from the window of the shop, that would be great.”

This time I’m not the only one who has to stifle a laugh. The room breaks out into a low murmur and Caleb has to completely turn around to hide his grin, his back facing the audience and his shoulders shaking. Ms. Beatrice has been putting up WANTED signs in her windows for months now, ever since she caught two tourists in the back bathroom using the sink in new and creative ways.

Dane tilts his head to listen to whatever Ms. Beatrice has to say on the matter. “I agree public indecency is a crime, but again, just give me or Caleb a call.” He holds up his hand to cut off her response and glances down at the podium, eager to move the conversation along. But whatever he sees has him folding up the whole stack of paperwork with a grunt. “Alright, Beatrice, clearly you and I need to have a side conversation. We’ll table the—“ he flips over the paper and glances at it again. “—other seven things for another time.”

“Do you think someone complained about how she refuses to buy almond milk?” Layla whispers out of the corner of her mouth. She did buy it, actually. She just put it in a canister that says hipster juice on the side.

“Probably something about Karen and the latte incident,” I reply. I rarely come into town during the afternoons, but I happened to be walking by the day Ms. Beatrice refused to serve Karen Wilkes on account of her being rude to the wait staff. A latte somehow found its way all over Karen’s faux fur bomber jacket. Can’t say I blame her for that one.

“Alright,” Dane’s voice booms over the room and everyone settles again. “Next up. The pizza shop is, uh—” he hesitates, rubbing his fingertips over his mustache and down his chin. He taps there once and glances around the room. “Matty would like you all to know there’s a special this month. Half the profits on Wednesdays go to the elementary school to fund their science trips.”

Stella’s hand shoots into the air. Dane looks like he wants to walk out the door and keep walking. “Yes, Stella?”

“Is this an appropriate time to share that I think you two are the cutest couple I’ve ever seen in my life and express my congratulations that you’ve finally moved in together?”

“I like the wreath you put on your door,” Mabel Brewster adds from somewhere in the middle of the room. “And the birdbath in the front yard. Didn’t know you had such an eye for gardening, Sheriff.”

The rest of the room bursts into a series of comments and questions on the Sheriff’s love life.

“Did you see them at the farmer’s market? I swear I’ve never seen Dane Jones smile so much.”

“Do you mean he smiled once? Because I think that’s the standing record.”

“They were holding hands. He bought Matty flowers.”

“Where is Matty? You can’t keep him locked up just because you two are an item now.”

I sink further in my chair, the hum of sound rising up and over me. It’s like a buzz in the back of my head, a ringing in my ears. I press my thumb deep into my palm and try to focus there instead.

Dane looks about ready to burst at the front of the room, his cheeks a flaming red above his beard, hands fussing with the hat tucked under his arm.

I nudge Stella with my elbow. “You’re not worried this is going to turn on you?”

“What do you mean?”

I gesture between her and Luka. “When are you two moving in together?”

“Oh,” she waves her hand, unconcerned. “As soon as we can figure out how to add more space. I don’t think Luka is ready for me in my full messy glory quite yet.”

Stella lives in a cottage on the opposite side of the farm from my cabin, a tiny house filled to the brim with old magazines and half-empty coffee mugs. It looks like an eighty-year-old woman with a hoarding problem lives there, Luka’s interference be damned. I once heard them arguing about kitchen towels with gnomes on them. Stella didn’t want to throw them away because, apparently, they’re a conversation piece.

“We’ll move in together when we can add a bedroom or two so he has someplace to cry when I don’t fold his t-shirts exactly right.” She shrugs, jostling Luka’s arm around her shoulders. He pinches her lightly without even looking and her smile spreads into a grin. “I’m happy to share that with anyone who asks. All of this—Dane needs to know we love him. We love them. He told me once he didn’t think he was enough for Matty. He was afraid to take the chance.” She leans into Luka, her temple against his chin. “He deserves to know he’s got the town rooting for him. That we’re glad he’s happy.”

That’s all well and good, but Dane looks like he’s about to melt into the floor.

“Even if it derails the rest of this meeting?”