“What if he doesn’t want to be madly in love with me?”
“Of course he does.” He better. Dream job or no, last thing McKenna would ever do is leave a brokenhearted Bobbi alone in Nebraska.
“You sure? Lately I’ve been getting this feeling that our relationship isn’t going to make it. Something’s been off for a while now. Oliver hasn’t been himself. Which means I haven’t been myself. Every time we’re together now I just get this sick feeling in my gut that he’s working up the courage to end things. I’m almost positive it was on the tip of his tongue that night we went out for ice cream the other week. Pretty sure the only reason he didn’t was because that guy at the table next to us started having a heart attack.”
McKenna grabbed her forehead. “You’ve got this all wrong, Bobbi. Trust me, Oliver does not want to break up with you.”
“Then why is he still evenmentioningGermany?”
“Because he’s not thinking straight.” Neither of them were. But McKenna couldn’t exactly say that, could she? “Try not to stress about Oliver, okay?”
“I can’t lose both him and you, McKenna.”
“You’re not losing either one of us. We’re sisters for life.” Whether they lived in the same state or not. “And Oliver loves you. I know he does. Everything’s going to work out fine. I promise.”
“Can I come see you in Tennessee?”
“What? No. Why—”
“I could switch my flight on the way back from Italy and stop off in Tennessee to see you and get to know your secret lover better.”
“Stopcalling him that. And no, you are not coming here. I won’t be here. I’ll be back in Nebraska by then.” Probably. Maybe.
“So you are coming back to Nebraska?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because Nate’s going to convince you to elope and start making babies with him in Tennessee.”
“He doesn’t even live in Tennessee. He lives in New York.”
“So you admit you’ve thought about this?”
“I admit nothing of the sort. Nowstopcalling Nate my secret lover.Stopcalling at three in the morning. Andstopworrying about Oliver. Have fun in Italy. I love you. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Just tell me one thing. Have you already eloped and started making babies?”
“Good night.”
Nate knew three things by Friday morning.
One, unless he wanted to keep doing laundry every other day, he needed more clothes. Two, unless he wanted to make the forty-minute drive into Murfreesboro, he needed to visit Marty’s Mercantile, the one store in Bugle where he’d find any options. And three, unless he wanted to get drilled about his personal business and set up with all sorts of women he had zero interest in dating, he needed to duck behind the stand of homemade candles and lip balm. Fast.
“Nate? Is that you?”
Should’ve been faster.
“Itisyou.” The voice belonged to Brenda, one of the ladies from his mom’s church. Her petite frame rushed forward holding a decorative sign readingOne cat just leads to anotherbecause that was the sort of thing Marty’s Mercantile sold in addition to candles, lip balm, clothing, and gourmet snacks. “Heard you were back in town. What are you up to?”
Light instrumental music played overhead. The wooden floorboards creaked as he shifted his weight to eye the back corner of the store where a rack of men’s flannel shirts stood next to a stack of cratescontaining the T-shirts, shorts, socks, and underwear he’d been hoping to purchase without bumping into anyone he knew.
“Oh, you know.” Nate grabbed a candle and tipped it toward his nose. “Just checking out the scents.” Easier than explaining his lost carry-on saga.
“Blueberry cinnamon,” Brenda said, pushing up the pair of oversized glasses she’d owned so long they’d made the full circle of going out and coming back in style. “Don’t you just want to gobble it up?”
“With a fork.” He no sooner returned the candle to the shelf, Brenda latched on to his forearm with a grip that was surprisingly strong for such a small-framed lady.
“So is it true?”
