Page 64 of Catching Sparkles

“Maybe someone will change their mind last minute,” she said, frowning.

“Yeah, maybe.” But I wasn’t really convinced.

I had some money saved up, but nowhere near enough for a down payment. And I didn’t have enough credit history for a home loan. Most banks didn’t include digital content creator in their lexicon of reliable and trustworthy jobs.

All I could do was watch as the place that had been my secret little sanctuary got snatched up and destroyed by some greedy, soulless corporation. I wished I could protect it like it had protected me for so many years, but I just couldn’t. The thought was so saddening that honestly I was kind of glad when Megan glanced at her phone and let out a panicked yelp.

“Oh my god, you guys! She’s on her way right now. You have to scram!”

After reminding her about the reheat instructions for the cobbler, we scrammed. I dropped Josie off at home, where Benjamin came out and talked to me through my car window. We recapped the plans for Josie’s shower, which was happening the very next weekend, and I made plans to come over and have dinner with them the night before.

On the way back to my apartment, I tried not to think about the house on Mulberry, because it made me sad. Rhys had texted me that he was coming over, and I knew he’d already let himself in and would be waiting on me, so that helped. I was sure I could utilize him in some way that would be sufficiently distracting.

THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND, Josie’s baby shower was going off without a hitch. I’d stayed up late prepping all the chocolate toppers and fillings, then gotten up early to bake the three different flavors of cupcakes I’d decided on. I’d sprung for cute and sweet flavors like lemon blueberry, vanilla bean and honey, and peanut butter chocolate.

I got over to the Kensington place early to set up. Rhys had slept at home so he was up bright and early, ready to help. Mom assigned him to string up the high decorations the rest of us couldn’t reach, all in the yellow and pale grey color scheme they were doing the nursery in. They’d decided to wait until the birth to find out the sex of the baby, going gender-neutral for the party and opting out of any silly reveal elements, on the basis that they didn’t want to start putting any societal pressure on the kid before it was even born.

Josie wasn’t a delicate and fancy kind of girl, so she’d shot down my idea of sophisticated little finger sandwiches, lamenting about wanting real food instead. I’d bitten down on my tongue and manfully held back a wince when Rhys was sent out to obtain what she’d chosen, returning to the house with buckets of fried chicken, mountains of biscuits, and a smorgasbord of the accompanying sides. It was her day. She deserved greasy fried chicken if that was what she wanted.

When I got around to the point where I’d be welcoming my first child, my baby shower would have tea and an array of adorable little finger sandwiches with cucumber and smoked salmon and herbed cream cheese. If I ever got to that point in my life. Rhys would make a great dad, though I was sure it would take me years to convince him of that. Pushing it from my mind, I decided to focus on the tasks at hand.

Mom had organized a bunch of really cute games for the guests to play, and then we watched Josie open gifts. She loved the stuff Rhys and I had picked out, tearing up various points throughout and then complaining about her heightened emotions before scrubbing them away.

When all the mandatory stuff was done, people mostly just milled around and socialized. Some in the house, and some in the back yard, where there were already intensely competitive games of cornhole going on. It wasn’t a true gathering around here until the boards and bean bags were dragged out of the garage.

I hovered around the kitchen, throwing away empty containers and straightening up, pridefully eyeing how few of my cupcakes were left on the trays I’d arranged them on. When Rhys came in, snagging one of the remaining chocolate ones and taking a giant bite, I leaned back against the counter, eyeing him.

“What are you staring at, Sparkles?” He asked, giving me a sly look as he licked a bit of frosting off the side of his thumb.

“Nothing,” I responded, blinking my lashes at him innocently. The kitchen was empty except for us, but there were people all around us, chatting amongst themselves. Lowering my voice down to just barely audible, I hooked my thumbs into the belt loops of my cutoff shorts. “I saved a couple of those at the house, just for you.”

He grinned, giving me one of those looks that made me feel all gooey, the ones he didn’t give out too often. The ones that made me feel like I was the only other person in the world, and certainly the only one he was interested in.

“You’re spoiling me,” he murmured. “I’m getting lazy in my old age.”

I snorted, shaking my head. He woke up early most mornings to go for a run, and would still drive 15 minutes out to the nearest gym sometimes to keep up on his weightlifting. But he’d already told me that if he ended up actually staying in Cherryvale, which he absolutely was going to if I had anything to say about it, he was likely going to invest in some home gym equipment. I wasn’t going to complain about that. There was nothing I enjoyed more than worshiping his perfectly carved, washboard abs. Well, almost nothing.

“You look good to me,” I responded softly, and he smirked, flirtatiously cocking an eyebrow. He reached down for the hem of his shirt, presumably to lift it a bit and let me have a little peek at what I’d probably be running my tongue over later, but let it drop as the sound of footsteps on the ceramic tile of the kitchen sounded from behind him.

Thankful he was facing me and not the entrance to the room, I tore my eyes away from Rhys and put them on Josie.

“Having fun?” I asked, and she nodded, a bright smile plastered on her face. It was definitely worth all the effort we’d put in to see her like that.

“Yep! Just coming in to get another glass of that strawberry lemonade.”

“Yeah, I love when Mom makes that stuff,” I agreed, watching as she stuck her cup in the little ice machine slot of the fridge.

“Ah, I’m gonna… Yeah,” Rhys said, before making a not-so-graceful exit out of the kitchen and through the sliding glass door into the backyard. He was always so obvious when he was trying to hide something, which was sort of unfortunate for our situation. But at least I’d know if he was ever hiding something from me. Josie watched him retreat, then turned to me as soon as he was gone.

“Down, boy,” she warned me teasingly, shaking her head.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw the way you were looking at him. You think your new beau would appreciate you drooling over another guy like that?” She asked, but I could tell she was joking.

“There’s no beau,” I reminded her. “And I wasn’t drooling.”

“You were absolutely drooling, but I get it,” she said easily, shrugging a shoulder. “Rhys is totally your type, to a T.”