Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(50)

“How are things with your sisters? How’s Spark House and the franchise?”

Harley tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Spark House is good. The franchise will be good for our bottom line, but the whole thing is a little overwhelming. There are so many big-picture things to account for now. Every time I think I have a handle on my new role, it changes again. I feel like I’m constantly trying to figure out where I fit in at Spark House, and it’s been a challenge to get a foothold.”

“Do your sisters know that?” I ask.

She lifts a hand, waving at Peyton who has climbed to the top of the structure and is waiting her turn to go down the slide. “They’re trying their best, but we have a team of people working with us on developing a franchise model. It’s a lot of moving parts. My sisters’ roles have shifted too, but they were always more set than mine. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry it’s a challenging transition.”

“All transitions are a challenge in one way or another.”

I decide now is as good a time as any to segue. “It can’t be easy, though, especially when you throw a breakup in there. How’s Chet handling it?”

Harley gives me a sidelong glance and suppresses a half smile. “Do you purposely get his name wrong?”

“No, I just don’t think I spent much time wanting to get to know it or him, if I’m going to be quite honest.” I shrug and give her my best chagrined smile.

“Well, I dropped all of Chad’s, not Chet’s, stuff off at his place a couple of weeks ago. By that point he’d had some time to think things through, and he agreed that we weren’t right for each other. On paper, we ticked all the boxes, but we don’t have enough in common, and we were better off as friends. It was nice not to be the single friend in the group, but the spark wasn’t there the way it should be. And he’s still into spending all weekend in a pub, drinking beer and watching sports. I’m past that. In fact, I think I skipped over that phase entirely. My sisters and I will go for drinks once in a while, but when we do, it’s to hang out, not because we have seven different fantasy sports leagues to keep track of.”

“That’s a lot of fantasy sports,” I remark.

“I’m exaggerating, but probably not by much. Anyway, last I heard, he’d gone on a date with one of the bartenders at his favorite sports bar.”

I cringe. “Ouch.”

Harley lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “I’m actually happy he’s putting himself out there. I think if I’d had deep feelings for him, it would hurt, but it doesn’t.”

“That makes sense. Does that mean you’re ready to move on?”

“Yeah.” She nods and her bottom lip slides between her teeth. “I’m past the feeling bad stage, if that’s what you mean.”

I weigh my options and decide to go for it. I shift and mirror her pose, my forearm resting on the back of the bench and my fingers brushing her arm. “Is it too soon to ask you out for dinner, then?”

“Dinner? You mean with you and Peyton?”

“I’m always happy to take you both out.” I motion between us. “But I was thinking just you and me.”





Fourteen


UNCHARTED TERRITORY


HARLEY

“Without Peyton?” I don’t know why I ask; clearly this is what he means.

“I’m a fan of pizza, but I was thinking more along the lines of a place without paper menus. Where they have an actual wine list consisting of more than house white and red.” He chuckles somewhat nervously.

“Do you mean like on a date?” Apparently all my current questions fit in the stupid category.

“Unless I’m reading this wrong,” Gavin backtracks.

“You want to go on a date with me?” Now would be an excellent time for that rogue UFO to appear and beam me up, and maybe spit back out a less awkward version of me.

“Um, yes?” Now he sounds uncertain.

“Why?”

“Why do I want to go on a date with you?” Gavin arches a brow.

I open my mouth to respond, but it’s cut off by a loud shriek. Our heads whip over to the play structure, and we push up off the bench at the same time, scanning the area for Peyton. We find her on the ground by the climber.

We rush over to her, and Gavin scoops her up in his arms. “What happened, honey? Are you okay?”

“I f-fell off the climber! My knees and my h-hands hurt!” Peyton stammers through a sob.

I put my hand on Gavin’s arm. “Let’s take her to the bench so we can have a look.”

He carries her to the bench and sits, setting her in his lap. Gavin wipes her tears away and kisses her forehead, then gently takes her hands in his so he can have a look at the damage. Her palms are scraped, beads of blood welling, but nothing serious. Her knees are in worse shape, but it’s all surface wounds.

He kisses the back of her hand. “Oh sweetie, I bet that hurts, doesn’t it? This is why I want you to stay off the climber.”

“It just looks so fun.” She sucks in a tremulous breath.

“I know, but that one is a little higher than normal, and it’s probably slippery from the rain we had earlier,” he explains.