“Well,” she says pleasantly, “good morning.”
I choke.
Nash clears his throat and becomes very interested in the coffee pot. “Morning, ma’am,” he says, a little too polite.
Mama’s eyes twinkle. “Sleep alright?”
I glare at her. “Mama.”
“What?” she asks innocently. “I’m just a mother. Concerned for… everyone’s rest.”
Nash’s ears turn pink again. It’s my favorite thing.
“We’re headed into town,” I announce, loudly, like if I speak in a big voice this conversation can’t follow me. “Rodeo Days stuff.”
Mama pats my cheek as we pass. “Be safe. Be smart. And for the love of the Lord, don’t get caught making out behind the cotton candy booth.”
“MAMA.”
Nash’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he follows me out the door.
“I am never going to recover,” I mutter.
“You will,” he says. “Your mom likes me.”
“She likes everybody who eats her biscuits and doesn’t lie to her face. The bar is low.”
“You’d be surprised,” he says, and squeezes my hand.
And just like that, the tension drains out of me again.
Town feels different today.
Maybe because the sunlight is brighter. Maybe because my mouth still tastes like Nash. Maybe because the secret between us isn’t a secret anymore—at least not the part the town sees.
People wave. People grin. People stare like they’re trying to figure out if this is real or just a storyline.
We go to the community center first, where Rodeo Days planning lives in a chaotic stack of clipboards and flyers. I pull out my binder—yes, I have a binder, no, you can’t judge me—and start calling vendors.
BBQ truck? Confirmed.
Funnel cakes? Confirmed.
Craft booth row? Mostly confirmed, except Mrs. Landry thinks her booth needs to be “more central to foot traffic” like she’s a Fortune 500 company.
Nash follows along like a shadow with a sense of humor, leaning against doorframes, checking windows, scanning the parkinglot, and making the occasional dry comment that almost makes me spit my iced tea.
When the cotton candy vendor cancels, I groan and thump my forehead against my binder.
Nash taps the page. “Call the guy from Stone Hollow. The one with the trailer shaped like a pig.”
“How do you know about the pig trailer?”
He shrugs. “I pay attention.”
It shouldn’t make my chest warm.
It does.
