“I’m guessing maybe he had a great personality?”
McKenna’s voice softened. “Honestly, he was the perfect package. Momma J loved him dearly, and I’m sure I would have too if I’d only been given the chance. I was still a shy girl learning how to lower my guard when he died in a car wreck a few months after they married.”
Nate took another offered orange slice. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” she said, picking off bits of rind and holding the next piece close enough to his mouth that he leaned forward and took it straight from her fingers.
He’d like to. When it came to McKenna he’d like to know all of it.
McKenna’s smile reappeared with a tenderness tucked in the corners. “That’s what makes Bobbi so special. Momma J always called her the miracle baby. She didn’t even realize she was pregnant until about a month after Travis’s funeral. She said later that knowing a part of Travis was living inside her had been the only thing to keep her going for a while. She always said Bobbi was her special gift from God. A blessing.”
“So are you, McKenna. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Judging by her wrinkled nose and quick shake of the head, he was guessing not.
“Oh my goodness.” She untangled their legs and jumped from her chair. “It’s almost five o’clock. I told Barb I’d swing by her place to check out this Polaroid camera I’m supposed to use for the Dominoes Dance. She thinks it might be broken, but I told her I could probably get it working.”
“I meant what I said.” He tried grabbing hold of her, but she was already skipping away out of the kitchen, yelling, “Can you believe Harry will be here in twelve days? How am I supposed to make it another twelve days without Harry?”
She then started singing what Nate could only assume was supposed to be “It Had to Be You” as she jogged up the stairs, leaving Nate behind to ponder a question of his own.
How was he supposed to make it without McKenna once these twelve days were over?
The next afternoon McKenna answered her phone to hear Bobbi say, “I knew you were making babies with Nate in Tennessee.”
She shouldn’t have answered.
McKenna peered at the ceiling, grateful Nate was taking a shower so she could put her phone on speaker without him hearing ridiculous statements likeI knew you were making babies with Nate in Tennessee.
“So you got my text then,” McKenna said, grabbing a clean glass out of the dishwasher.
“I did. Just give it to me straight. How far along are you, and if it’s a girl will you at least name her after me?”
“Stop. All I said was that you should stop by for a visit just likeyousaidyouwanted to.”
“Uh-huh. What happened toyoubeing back in Nebraska by the time I got home from Italy? What areyoustill doing in Tennessee?”
“Not making babies, I can tell you that much.” McKenna eyed the bowl of oranges sitting out on the kitchen island, yesterday’s conversation with Nate refusing to leave her thoughts any more than the determined little fruit fly hovering above the oranges.
So are you, McKenna. Has anyone ever told you that?
The way he’d leaned into her, the way his hazel eyes crinkled with tenderness, the way his long legs slid around hers like a perfect jigsaw puzzle.
No, they weren’t making babies, but the warmth pooling in her lower belly suggested they were on their way to making something together. And thatsomethingcould very well explode and ruin everything if McKenna didn’t figure out a way to rein it all in until after Bobbi’s proposal.
First priority—Bobbi. Always Bobbi. Once Bobbi got engaged, then maybe McKenna could explore makingsomethingswith Nate. Until then, Bobbi Bobbi Bobbi.
“So you’ll come to Tennessee?” McKenna put the last bowl away in the cabinet, then dragged out all the clean silverware from the dishwasher.
“What’s going on, McKenna? Really?”
Good grief. When McKenna had texted Bobbi about visiting, she expected a thumbs-up, maybe an excited emoji, not an interrogation. She emptied the silverware into a drawer, searching for the right words that wouldn’t be false, but also wouldn’t spoil the proposal. “I miss you. Is that so hard to imagine?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how Nate plays into all of this.”
Funny. So was McKenna.
She set the silverware holder back in the dishwasher and closed the door. “I like Nate. It’s as simple as that.” Ha! If only it was as simple as that.
