Page 7 of Small Town Boy

“Just making sure, since that’s the second time you’ve called me honey. That’s not my name.”

Noel chuckles again. “Just a nickname.”

“Not mine.”

Ouch—that was harsh. Harsher than I intended. Than Noel deserved. I am not doing this first impression thing well.

“Right.” He nods, like he’s acknowledging my request. I have good money this won’t be the last time we have this conversation though. “Siblings? Parents?”

“Nope.”

Shifting in his seat, Noel looks over at me. Only, this time, he doesn’t look away as quickly as he did before. My heart stutters, and my pulse kicks up, and I tell myself that it’s because I’m nervous that he’s not watching where he’s going—which is part of it. We’re hurtling down the highway at a pretty good clip, and we are far from the only people on this stretch. Paying attention would be a damn good idea right now. Instead, he’s looking at me.

And I like it. I think.

It certainly wipes my brain of any concern about leaving a bad impression or whether or not he’s going to call me honey again, leaving only thoughts of him. And those clearly calloused hands that are gripping the wheel.

Wonder what they would feel like gripping me…

“Nope, you don’t have any? Or nope, you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Either. Both.” I shrug, turning to look out the window. Tall trees whiz by, distracting me, allowing both question and answer to fade into the tire noise. I should answer. Should put some effort into getting to know him. That’s what previous Bronwyn would have done. Welcomed getting to know this stranger with open arms. She wouldn’t have questioned if there was another motive or how it might come back to bite her. Besides, Willa said he’s one of her best friends. If Willa trusts him, then I should be able to as well. Telling him this isn’t like I’m opening up my chest, giving him access to rip out my heart, or handing him the dagger to stab me in the back with. Been there, done that. “Only child. My parents passed when I was in college. Car accident.”

“That sucks.”

That sucks. Not the response I was expecting. Most people usually go with the traditional condolences. Not Noel Keller.

His answer is refreshing though. It’s not a canned response. It’s candid, real. A gut reaction, one I still feel all these years later. It also helps ease my insides. A comment like that doesn’t come from someone with an agenda.

“It does.”

“Sorry that happened.”

“Thanks.” I swallow hard, trying to keep my emotions in. Noel might only be a step or two above monosyllabic, but I can feel his genuineness. A trait that clearly runs deep. Clearing my throat, not wanting to give anything away, I turn the question back on him. “You?”

“Twin brother, Nash. Mama and Daddy—Lucy and Jack. They run the nursery just outside of town. We got a full fifty acres, full of all the plants, flowers, and trees we sell. A little more than twenty acres is dedicated to Christmas trees.”

“Christmas trees? In Georgia?”

“Gotta grow ‘em somewhere. We’re the largest Christmas tree producer for Southern Georgia.”

“Interesting,” I comment. Not something I ever would have thought about. “And you’re a twin? Identical or fraternal?”

“Fraternal, but…”

“But might as well be identical?”

Noel grunts. Oh, hit a nerve there.

“Lived in Hickory Hills all my life, and people still can’t tell us apart walking down the street.”

Yeah, definitely hit a nerve. Oops.

“So, how do I know who’s who?”

“The shit-eatin’ grin will give him away.”

A laugh bursts out of me, and I clap my hand over my mouth, more than a little embarrassed by how loud that was. The serious brown eyes and furrowed brow that has been retrained on the road turn to face me again, their confusion abundantly clear. Apparently that was not a joke.