True to his word, Nate booked a flight and showed up on McKenna’s doorstep the first chance he got, which happened to be the first weekend in August. “Couldn’t have the school year starting up without seeing you first.”
“You’re here.” She shook her head, her eyes filling with both pleasure and wonder as she stepped out onto the porch and touched his face as if needing to convince herself he was real.
“Of course. Didn’t I warn you I’d be coming for you?” He kissed her palm, then dug into his messenger bag. “And on that slightly stalkerish note, I have something for you. It’s the type of thing that will either endear me to you or convince you to put a restraining order against me for good. I guess we’ll see.”
Since he only had so much time with her, he was pulling out the big guns.
She bit her bottom lip, staring down at the notebook he handed her. “Isn’t this the notebook you had the first time we met?”
“Only now you’ll see the lines aren’t blank. All that pondering paid off.” Before she could flip open the cover, he stopped her with a hand. “Mind saving it for later? I’m only here for today. I don’t wantto miss a second with you. Plus there’s so much I need to tell you. Starting with Mom’s emu. She named him Harry, of course.”
The next time Nate arrived it was early October. They drove to a corn festival taking place a few towns over and held hands all afternoon as they caught up on everything going on in their lives, as well as the lives of everyone back in Bugle.
McKenna leaned into his shoulder. “I heard from Georgie that they’ve finally started remodeling the children’s library wing with all the donations from the concert.”
“They did,” Nate confirmed as he bought a bag of popcorn to share. “And Gus told me to be sure to pass along to you that their cheese budget is alive and thriving.”
McKenna laughed, making Nate’s quick trip worth it right there alone. “And Evie’s baby? Still doing well?”
“Yep. Mom said she’s a happy little chunk, and they already consider her a regular member of their committee. Poor soul. Oh, that reminds me. Lottie told my mom to tell me to pass along to you that in case you were wondering, yes, the potholes in front of her house are still worse than the ones in front of the Piggly Wiggly.”
“Oh,” McKenna said, clutching her chest. “You have no idea how much that had been keeping me up at night.”
“Figured you’d sleep better knowing the pothole status in Bugle.”
“Who wouldn’t? By the way...” McKenna leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve been waiting until I saw you again to tell you how much I love the notebook. Nobody’s ever given me anything like that before. I love it. I love...” She swallowed and nodded her head, obviously not quite ready to finish that sentence.
But that was okay. Because Nate loved her. And he’d wait as long as it took for her to be ready to accept that love. “So tell me about the photography studio. Have you officially accepted Mr. Sullivan’s offer to take over yet?”
She offered him a sweet smile. “Let’s just say that’s one of the things I’m still pondering.”
The scent of hearty potato chowder filled the kitchen. “McKenna?” Bobbi’s voice called out from the living room. “I’m heading over to a friend’s house to watch a movie. We’ll probably grab some dinner, too, so don’t worry about saving me any soup.”
“Sounds good,” McKenna called back from where she was seated at the kitchen table, rereading Nate’s poetry notebook for the thousandth time. “Be careful driving in the snow.”
They’d gotten their first snowfall a few days ago, right after Thanksgiving. Even though McKenna usually waited for December to start decorating for Christmas, the three inches of white covering the ground had skyrocketed her into the holiday mood. She’d spent the past few afternoons putting up the tree, hanging garland on the stair banister, and decorating the foyer and fireplace mantle—and figuring out what to do about the email she’d received from Tricia and Guy Scampy’s publicist a little over a week ago.
Hi McKenna,
I know this is several months after the fact, but I just wanted to reach out and say how pleased Tricia and Guywere with the photos you took at The Happy Hiccup B&B event. They can’t stop raving about how special the night was for them, and now I have other clients in the Nashville area who are interested in working with you as well. Not sure where you’re located right now, but I hope to hear back from you. I’d love to work together. Maybe even plan another event or two at The Happy Hiccup this coming summer???
McKenna didn’t know what to do with that email, so she’d done the only thing she could do—go all out with the Christmas decorations after finally working up the courage to tell Mr. Sullivan three mornings ago what she should have told him months ago. “I’m sorry, but I’m not taking over your studio. Not now. Not ever. As grateful as I’ll always be for everything you’ve done for me, I think it’s time for me to move on.”
The soup bubbled on the stove. McKenna noticed the front door hadn’t slammed shut yet. When nothing but Nat King Cole’s voice singing about chestnuts and roasting fires lingered, McKenna twisted in her chair to find Bobbi standing in the kitchen doorway. “Something wrong?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Bobbi stepped forward, her gaze lingering on Nate’s notebook.
McKenna flipped it closed. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been crying again.”
“I haven’t been crying. I’ve just been...” McKenna lifted a shoulder. “A little watery. This time of year always makes me like that.”
“You’ve been a little watery ever since we got back from Tennessee. The only time you’re not watery is when Nate visits.”
“Not true.” Okay, a little bit true. McKenna ran her finger along the spirals of the notebook. “Guess I just never imagined finding a guy who likes me as much as Nate seems to.”
“Seems to? McKenna, headoresyou. And it’s obvious you’re headover heels for him. What I don’t understand is why you’re making yourself miserable being apart from him when...”
