Page 45 of Small Town Boy

I throw back my head, a roar of laughter erupting from deep in my chest. Oh, that’s a good one. I give him a shove, sending him tumbling forward off the tailgate. It takes him a couple of steps to regain his balance, but he does it.

“What would I tell me?”

“I don’t fucking know.” He laughs, and I join in, unable to help myself. “But here’s what I think you should do. What I maybe shoulda done years ago. Ask her out again. On a real date. Take her somewhere the two of you won’t be fodder for the rumor mill. Show her the real you. Let her in on the mystery.”

I consider his words. It’s absolutely what he should have done before. I can learn from his mistake though.

Now, to figure out a plan…

13

BRONWYN

“So, before the boys get here,” Kenzie says, barely loud enough to be heard over the thumping of the music. The Giddy Up looks exactly like what I imagined a honky-tonk to look like—dark inside, with lots of natural wood finishes, country music and beer paraphernalia on the walls, and of course, the requisite deer head. I’m still debating if that’s real or fake, quickly circling around to the idea that it might be better not to know. “I am officially requesting that we be brought in on the secret.”

“Secret? Who has a secret?” Sylvie asks, pointedly looking at Willa. Who gives her the same look in return.

The three of them glance back and forth for a moment, expressions a mix of concern and accusation, growing more serious by the second.

“I think she means me,” I say.

“Someone borrowed a page from the Dustin and Kenzie playbook, and was making out in the nonfiction section,” Kenzie tosses out there, giving me a wink. “And since we were actually referenced in the moment, I’m starting to wonder just what my fiancé is sharing with people.”

“OMG,” Sylvie exclaims at the same time Willa holds up her hand for a high five going, “Go, Bronwyn!”

I lightly tap Willa’s hand, embarrassment creeping in. I didn’t realize that we’d had an audience in that moment. So much for thinking that the disturbance had been coincidental. Then again, I’m quickly learning news travels fast around Hickory Hills, so if Kenzie knows…

“Don’t worry, no one else saw,” she reassures, as if she’s reading my mind.

“Noel?” Willa asks.

I nod, watching as she goes from curious to bewildered to astounded. I take a long sip of my Diet Coke, letting the bubbles dance across my tongue, trying to avoid having to say anymore.

“Holy shit! How did you keep this to yourself? Why were you not running to my office to share?”

Because I’m still gun-shy about trusting people…

“I didn’t think there was really anything to tell.”

That’s a lie. There was a lot to tell. This was exactly the kind of thing that would have burned a hole in me until I spilled to Marie. The two of us giggling in the conference room, the door closed, giving off the impression we were hard at work, when in reality, we might as well have been a couple of teenagers with a teeny-bopper magazine.

“So, there’s nothing more brewing there?” Sylvie asks.

“I…I don’t know. We ran into each other at the farmers’ market and then we went to a place called Dolly’s⁠—”

“We know,” all three say in unison.

“Oh, so now who’s withholding information?” I shoot back. Not one of them has the sense to look embarrassed.

“We figured after women’s club the other night, you’d been harassed about it enough, so we were trying to let you lead,” Willa tells me. “But Kenzie apparently knew more than she was letting on.”

“We were letting Bronwyn share!” Kenzie defends.

“Does this whole damn town know about that meal?”

“Yes,” they all answer together. Well, shit.

I heave out a sigh, then chug the rest of my drink. It’s moments like this that I understand why people reach for a drink. The walls feel like they’re going to start moving in on me. Like I’m under a microscope, the main attraction for everyone to see. This is something I wasn’t prepared for. I had anonymity back in Boston. There were too many other people around for anyone to care enough. Here, everyone else’s lives are like a spectator sport.