“You’re not wrong,” I confirmed as a bird squawked.
“It would be the perfect place for a wedding,” Kellie commented, and Jake snickered.
“I thought you two were already married?” I asked, looking down at Kellie’s hand for a ring.
“Oh, we are. But Grace isn’t,” Kellie pointed out with a giggle.
“Marshmallow,” Jake said, his voice thick with warning.
“What? Are you telling me you can’t see how he looks at her? Or the way she searches for him when he’s not plastered to her side? Look! Look at her on the porch searching for him right now,” Kellie pointed out.
“She’s probably just looking for her drink that I was supposed to be getting,” I brushed off her words and dug my hand in the cooler, flicking away the ice and grabbing Grace a drink and myself a beer. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
“Sure. That’s it,” Kellie snarked.
“Come on, Kel, give Cole a break. Grace has only just got back to town and her sisters want to keep her here. Don’t push him into doing something that will drive her away,” Jake warned, and I felt like a spectator in a conversation about my life.
“I’m just gonna go give Grace this,” I told them as I ducked away from the gossip and suggestions.
But I couldn’t outrun the thoughts it had put in my head. They wanted Grace to stay. I wanted Grace to stay. The only thing I didn’t know was the one thing I was too afraid to ask. Did Grace want to stay?
I reached her side, and she clung to me like a barnacle on a ship’s hull.
“Thanks,” she murmured, taking a long pull.
For a while, I stood with Grace as people stopped by to wish her a happy birthday and welcome her back to town. She had offers for a makeover from Tiegan who ran Belles & Beaus. A job offer from Dotti to work behind the bar at Dusty Boots. She even had the overdressed, suit-wearing Scott James ask her to stop by his realtor business and do a few hours getting his admin back under control.
Grace was polite to all of them, never giving them an outright no but not agreeing to anything either.
When Georgia appeared with a tray of wings, everyone cheered. And the food kept coming. It was like a Fourth of July picnic on steroids. There were wings, hot dogs, burgers, bowls of mac and cheese, rolls, salads, and every type of side dish you could think of.
Grace excused herself to use the bathroom and I moved over out of the way, letting the line of people holding their paper plates ready to get to the food.
I’d just drained the last of my beer and was leaning against the tree when a woman headed my way. I gulped down the lump in my throat. The last thing I needed to deal with tonight was a woman. Grace was already riding a rollercoaster of emotions right now, I didn’t want to add to her whiplash by being seen talking to someone and making her question what she meant to me. Especially when I hadn’t had the chance to tell her.
“You’re Cole, right? Grace’s boyfriend?” she started, and my worries deflated.
“I’m pretty sure I’m too old to be a boyfriend, but yeah. I’m Cole. Nice to meet you …”
“Morgan. Morgan Riveria. I own the Clever Cookie in town.”
“Oh hi. I’ve heard amazing things about your brownies,” I complimented.
“Only heard?”
“I may have had one or two before,” I admitted, patting my non-existent stomach.
“You’re military, right? Marines?”
You could’ve knocked me down with a feather. I was standing here in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with flip flops on, and I was still being picked up for my military background.
“Army actually,” I clarified.
“Well, Cole, thank you for your service.”
I stiffened. I knew it was common for people to say it, but every time I heard it, I felt awkward. I’d just done my job. A job very few people even knew about, yet they say thank you out of obligation. They didn’t say thank you to the waste disposal guy or the IRS.
“Can I ask you something?” I turned toward her, and she nodded. “How’d you know I was military?”
