Carson studied me with a slightly confused amusement.
“Is she always like that?” he asked.
“Abby? Yes.”
“And this Millie person?”
“Worse.”
He nodded slowly. “Good to know.”
I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “I probably shouldn’t be in public right now.”
“Because people like you,” Carson said.
“That’s not the problem.”
He considered that. “Because people like teasing you.”
“Correct.”
“I noticed.”
Something in his tone was warm, quiet, and observant, which made me want to sink under the table.
Instead, I straightened and forced a smile.
“Okay,” I said, clapping lightly. “Let’s talk about something normal. Weather. Hiking boots. The tragic state of trail mix everywhere.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Raisins.”
“I will walk into traffic,” I warned.
He smiled.
Which is rude.
Our coffees arrived moments later. Abby placed them down with the ceremony of an ordained minister. Then, to my horror, she whispered to Carson:
“She blushes when she likes someone.”
“I don’t blush,” I snapped.
Carson looked at my bright pink cheeks.
I glared at Abby. “I’m begging you. Let me keep one secret from this town.”
She shrugged. “Fine. But if Millie asks me directly, I’m rolling over instantly.”
“You’re spineless.”
“I’m a businesswoman,” she countered, gathering the cups’ cardboard sleeves. “Information is my currency.”
I thunked my head softly on the table.
Carson leaned back in his chair, watching this exchange like he couldn’t decide if he’d stumbled into a sitcom or a cult.
Finally, mercifully, Abby drifted away.
