Beau snorted. “Me and who? Nah…I think Milo takes up more than enough space in my life. Me and my dog will be just fine alone.”
“Tell that to every single woman at this potluck who’s been eyein’ you,” I said, looking around. “Ever since Mabel told the whole town me and June were an item…well, it’s like chum in the water, ain’t it?”
“I don’t see a single girl at this event that’s under the age of sixty,” Beau deadpanned.
I gestured toward a blue-haired lady organizing flowers near the entryway. “What about her?”
Beau scowled. “That’s Tammy Jo Osborn…she’sninety.”
“Rude.”
“She also has a husband.”
“Then she’s got tasteandambition.”
Beau tipped his head in the opposite direction, and I followed his gaze to find Whit and Delilah setting out silverware on the buffet table. They looked like punk rockers in their Sunday best—Delilah in a slinky green dress and Whit in jeans and a battered black henley.
“Hey—if it’s open season on the Wards now, why the hell can’t Whit take the heat?” Beau muttered.
“Because Whit doesn’t have a damn job,” I chuckled. “And because we both know he’s been head over heels for Delilah since before he could tie his shoes.”
“Yeah…” Beau said, laughing with me. “Guess you’re right. But I’m still not gettin’ hitched anytime soon.”
I raised my eyebrows. “We’ll see.”
We stood there for a minute, taking it all in—the warmth of the fellowship hall, the mingling scents of barbecue and casseroles, the hum of voices and laughter as neighbors trickled in. It didn’t look like it had two months ago, before June came back.
It looked like home.
It looked like a church.
“I think we might actually pull this off,” I murmured.
Beau clapped me on the back. “We? No, dude—you were just staring at thighs.Junepulled this off.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
When I turned to find her again, her eyes met mine from across the room like she’d been looking too. She gave me the smallest smile—just a flicker at the corner of her mouth—but it knocked the wind out of me all the same.
God help me, I loved that woman.
I was still watching her when she headed our way, weaving between tables as more and more people filtered in. She looked flushed but bright-eyed, a little overwhelmed in the way only true extroverts did—like it energized her.
Beau leaned in. “You want me to give y’all a minute? You seemed pretty busy mentally measuring her inseam.”
I elbowed him. “Go make yourself useful.”
Beau snickered, but wandered off, probably to go flirt with someone’s grandma. A second later June stepped up beside me, a few stray curls falling out of her braid. She looked up at me with sparkling eyes. “Okay…I think we’re actually ready! I’m ready, at least. Maybe.”
“You’re more than ready,” I said, reaching out to touch her arm. “You pulled it together. The place looks amazing.”
She glanced around like she wasn’t sure whether to believe me. “You think so?”
I nodded. “I think it looks like a church again.”
She leaned into me just a little, shoulder brushing mine. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I didn’t do much,” I said. “Unless you count the moral support.”
