I bite back a grin. “You used the present tense. Does that mean you’re in?” I hold her gaze, gauging every reaction. “If you don’t want this, we stop now.”
I’ll walk away if that’s what she wants, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like hell.
Birdie studies me silently, her expression unreadable. The only noise is from the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway, each beat stretching the space between hope and disappointment.
When she finally speaks, my chest tightens with anticipation.
“It’s a sweet gesture to offer me an out, but there’s no need.” She holds out her hand. “I’m in. Let’s do this.”
I take her hand, lifting it to my mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Can’t wait to start pretend dating you, troublemaker.”
More than you know.
I’m eager to take her out and spoil her the way she deserves, but more than anything, I’m looking forward to the quiet moments when it’ll be just the two of us—laughing, talking, and getting to know each other beyond friendship. I’ve spent so long imagining what it’d be like to call her mine, and now that I’m one step closer to making that a reality, I have to do everything in my power to get this right.
Birdie lets out a soft laugh. “Careful now. You might regret saying that.”
“Never,” I vow.
Birdie and I agreed she’d have her first official lesson after work tomorrow. In the meantime, she’ll be busy fielding questions from her friends, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Briar stopped by the ranch house later for an interrogation. She loves Birdie like a sister and wouldn’t let anyone hurt her—including me.
Pulling up to the house now, I spot Ma on the front porch, knitting on her favorite rocking chair.
She’s the principal at Willow Creek Elementary, and her weekends are her chance to decompress after a week full of staff meetings, wrangling kids, and dealing with parental demands—making her knitting all the more puzzling. She despises it, dismissing it as a tedious hobby. So the only reason she’d be out here with her needles on a Sunday morning instead of curled up with one of her romance novels is that she’s waiting for someone—and judging by the gossip currently spreading like wildfire through Bluebell, that someone has to be me. Looks like Birdie won’t be the only one busy fielding questions today.
I park and step out of the truck, tucking the keys in my back pocket. Sure enough, Ma comes down the porch to meet me.
“Where have you been? You never came home last night,” she chides, stopping me with a stern look.
“Funny, I don’t recall you fussing this much all the other times I’ve stayed out,” I say, leaning against one of the porch columns.
That’s only half true. Even with her kids grown, she still keeps tabs on us and isn’t above using the town grapevine to stay informed of our whereabouts.
Which is why I’m proud that I’ve managed to keep a particular semiweekly routine under wraps for so long. For now, it has to stay a secret, though it’s tricky explaining why I’m coming home late or slipping away from the ranch after work without anyone knowing where I go.
Ma plants her hands on her hips. She may be a foot shorter, but her stance radiates authority.
“Enough with the games, Walker. Are you seeing Birdie Matterson or not?” Guess we’re cutting right to the chase.
“Yeah, I am,” I reply, not missing a beat.
This woman is a human lie detector, and if she catches even a hint of hesitation, she’ll call me out. I’m not sure what I expected, but a broad smile immediately crossing her face wasn’t it. I figured she’d start with a set of rapid-fire questions followed by a reprimand for keeping her in the dark.
“This is the best news,” Ma exclaims.
“Glad you think so.”
Her expression tightens, the corners of her mouth pulling into a frown. Looks like I was too quick to judge the situation.
“How could you keep something this important from your own mother? How do you think I felt when I went by the general store early this morning to drop off supplies for Ethel, and she asked me how I felt about my son dating the sheriff’s daughter? I had no answers because you never tell me anything.” She huffs in irritation.
Looks like she’s kicking things off with a scolding, served with a side of guilt to make me squirm. Arguing now would be a losing game.
“I’m sorry, Ma.” I stare down at the dirt, nudging a loose rock with my boot. “Birdie and I wanted to be certain before making things official. If it makes you feel better, everyone else will be equally as surprised when they hear the news.”
Birdie and I made sure we had our story straight before I left her place. In a town where everyone talks, we didn’t want anyone to catch any inconsistencies in our narrative.
“No, Walker, it doesn’t.” Ma sighs, a frown creasing her forehead. “You know how much I hate it when you keep secrets from me.”
