“How’s the Whimsical Romance cabin?” She wiggles her eyebrows. Stupid location tracking. Bad idea to call the romance queen.
“Okay, I’m turning off the location. Stalker.” She throws her head back in unabashed laughter. I shush her to keep from waking Braxton up downstairs.Gah.He is so close to me…
“Go ahead. My plan is in action already.”
“Lucy. What did you do?” She pulls a line across her lips with pinched fingers. “Lucy Marie Spence!” I holler in the most hushed tone I can manage.
“You’ll find out tomorrow. Your text said you were staying in Pigeon Forge for two nights, correct?”
I narrow my eyes. “Yeah. But now I think I’ll quit telling you things.”
“It’s nothing really. You’ll enjoy the surprise being sent.”
“You better hope so, Spence. ‘Cause if not, I plan on getting sweet revenge one day.” She holds her hands up in surrender.
“So,” I continue, ready to sidetrack her. “How are you coping with Jake not proposing?”
She fiddles with a curl and laughs nervously. “Oh, it’s nothing. Like y’all said. It’s only been three months. Maybe month four.” She finishes with another wink. The woman has a tendency to overuse the action. “But that isn’t what you called me at nearly one in the morning to talk about, is it?”
Heat races up my naked face, and I know I’m glowing redder than Rudolph’s nose right about now.
“Ooh,” Lucy taunts. “Are my sweet friends already becoming lovers?”
“Not a chance, Luce Goose,” I say, but my voice cracks a little.
“Come on, Hads. He isperfectfor you.”
“But I’m not perfect for him.”
Lucy sits on the other side of the screen quietly. A rare feature for her.
“Nobody’s perfect,” she finally says. “But people do fit. Maybe I should say Braxton fits you.Realnicely.” She drags the word ‘real’ out like molasses falling, a soft smile appearing.
And because I don’t want to talk about this anymore (she was totally the wrong person to call), I burst out in a scream-whispered version of “Nobody’s Perfect” by my beloved childhood superstar, Hannah Montana. Catching the memo, Lucy joins me and we have a mini Hannah concert before signing off.
But sleep still does not find me.
Because all I can think of is how unworthy I am of a good man like Braxton Rawls.
And questioning why I want him, anyway.
Chapter Nine
Braxton
Snap,crackle,pop.The classic cereal-named sounds make their way up and down my spine as I sit upright on the couch. I shake my hair out of my eyes, and the action sends a golf ball pinging around in my head. Why does my head hurt—
“Good morning, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?” Hadley’s melodic voice drawls from behind me. I turn my head to meet her sweet smile and messy blonde bun, and everything comes rushing back in an embarrassing, terrifying flood.
I threw my guts (and probably my lungs and spleen) up last night.
And Hadley was there to witness it all…
There goes my chance at making her mine.
“I’m fine, just a headache. What time is it?” I ask, wiping the sleep away from my eyes. Is that rotten onion smell coming fromme?Yep. There is no way Hadley wants me now…if she ever truly did at all.
“Ten-thirty,” she responds, making her way over to me.
