Three men who people already whisper about.
And me.
In the middle of it.
“Hey.”
Dottie.
Of course it’s Dottie.
She appears like a well-dressed omen about to deliver either tea or a warning. Possibly both.
“Well,” she says, taking me in with a slow sweep. “You’ve certainly made an impression.”
“I was hoping for something a little less… public,” I reply carefully.
She hums. “That was never going to happen. Not here.”
I glance at her. “That’s comforting.”
“It’s honest,” she corrects.
She leans in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to feel conspiratorial instead of broadcast.
“People are talking,” she says. “They will continue to talk. That’s what small towns do when something… interesting happens.”
“I’m interesting now?” I mutter.
“Oh, honey,” she smiles faintly. “You were interesting the moment you walked in with that Harper name and those eyes.”
That does not help at all.
“But listen to me,” she adds. “You’ll be fine here.”
“I will?”
“Of course! For the record,” she adds, “I do enjoy a good love story. So does the whole town.”
And then she’s gone.
I stare down at my drink. I knew this was coming, I just didn’t expect it to feel like this.
You don’t get involved with three men and expect privacy, even in Coyote Glen. Still, knowing something and feeling it are very different things.
“You okay?” Zane asks quietly, back at my side now.
I nod.
Then shake my head.
“People are talking,” I say.
“People always talk,” he replies.
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
“No,” he agrees. “It doesn’t.”
