CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
T he Pinegrove rumor mill kicked into high gear, and within an hour of Trevor and company’s visit, Kim’s Creations nearly burst at the seams. Kim squeezed between both customers and looky-loos eager for the dirt on why the police were called to the boutique.
Whitney was helping three women at the dressing rooms, each looking for completely different things, when she heard Kim say, “Yes, that’s my general manager, Whitney. She can style the perfect outfit and tell off her ex-boyfriend without breaking a sweat.”
The rest of the day flew by, despite squeezing through the masses at the shop. An hour before they were due to close up, and more importantly, her date with Trevor, her phone buzzed in her dress pocket. Not needing to look, she tugged her phone free and ducked into an empty fitting room to answer.
“Hey, Win,” She exhaled, collapsing onto the bench. She’d been on her feet all day, and she wanted nothing more than a moment’s peace. Silence greeted her, but that wasn’t the peace she craved.
Finally, Winnie replied. “Hey, Whit. Are you all right? You sound tired.”
Whitney exhaled. “I’m fine. It’s been a hell of a day. How are you doing?”
“I’d be better if you were here. I just picked up Xena from Mrs. Rodgers, and the apartment feels so lonely.”
A pang of guilt surged through Whitney, hating the notion her sister needed her. Yet for all her concern, Whitney still felt the pull to stay right where she was. Pinegrove had quickly become her home, and she needed her sister to know that.
“Win, I gotta tell you something.”
Her sister chuckled, the clatter of cat food hitting a bowl echoed through the line. “That you’re on the road and will be here in time for a late dinner?”
Deciding to simply tell her, Whitney went with the truth. “No, I’m not on the road. Frankly, I’m not coming back to Savannah.”
Suddenly, her sullen sister was gone, replaced with the hard-ass attorney used to getting her way. “You can’t be serious. Whit, come home. ” It wasn’t a request, it was an order, and Whitney didn’t have the energy to fight.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Whitney swallowed a sigh. “Pinegrove is home. I’ve met some wonderful people, and I just got a promotion at the shop. I’m—” Before she could continue waxing on about how much she loved her current situation, Winnie cut in.
“But I thought you broke up with that fireman? You can fold sweaters in Savannah. Whit, I need you here, okay? I know sleeping on my couch is no picnic, but I don’t want to be alone.”
Whitney jumped to her feet, restless energy coursing through her. “What? Because you think I’m single, I can’t stick around a new place for other reasons. I love this job, and I’ve made friends here. I’m in a book club for crying out loud!”
“But ...” Winnie tried to interject, but Whitney wasn’t finished.
“And I probably shouldn’t even mention this, because you’re going to get all preachy on me, but I am back together with Trevor. We’re going to take things slow, and it would be nice if you were happy for me. Because let’s face it, Win, I’m always happy for you, but I need to live my own life. I cannot continue to crash on your couch and hang out with Xena while you’re working overtime. I deserve more than that, and I’m disappointed you can’t see that.”
Footsteps approached the dressing room door, and Whitney did not want to continue this conversation another moment. She loved her sister with all her heart, but she was also tired of not standing up for herself, for not getting what she wanted. “I’ve got customers. We can talk later, and I’ll come back soon for a visit. But it won’t be today. I love you.”
And with that, she disconnected, silenced her phone, and shoved it back into her pocket. With trembling hands, she yanked open the dressing room door and came face-to-face with Kim. “You okay, honey?”
Whitney groaned. “I’m guessing my whole sisterly chat was louder than I expected.”
Kim scoffed. “Pfft, who cares.”
Glancing around the shop, Whitney saw it was half empty. Shoppers were leaving to prepare for the night’s festival activities, and she was eager to join them. Fatigue threatened to weigh her down, but there was too much to be excited over. Trevor was due soon to take her on a date, and she craved the time alone with him. She promised herself they’d take it slow, that she’d set the pace, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t eager.
“I want you to help me with something,” Kim said as she walked toward the rear of the shop. There were a couple stray boxes they hadn’t had a chance to unpack with all the chaos of the day. Using a utility knife, Kim carefully opened a box and reached inside, pulling out a handful of lavender fabric.
Whitney retrieved some hangers, ready to help get the dresses on the rack. “That’s a lovely color,” she observed, helping Kim fluff the dress before hanging it.
“I thought so too, that’s why I ordered it. Shame though,” she mused, smoothing down the skirt. “It only came in one size.” Without saying another word, Kim handed the dress to Whitney.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she checked the tag. It was her size, but that didn’t mean she should blow a day’s pay on the garment. Although she did like how it was fitted in the bodice with a flared skirt.
“Well, whoever gets it will be one lucky lady.” She sighed, spinning around to hang it with the other new arrivals. After such a busy day, it was easy to find open space on the rack.
Kim hummed, seemingly disinterested. She got another stack of clothes from the box and carried them to the counter. “That dress would work perfectly for the barn dance tonight,” Kim said, loading the tagging gun with labels.
“It would, huh?” Whitney raised an eyebrow, quickly understanding what her boss was up to. “And I’m guessing you have someone in mind for this?”
Kim cocked the label gun, deftly tagging three shirts in the blink of an eye. “Maybe. You see, when I was looking at the inventory site, I noticed this dress and thought it would look wonderful on someone with dark hair and gray eyes. That lavender really pops, don’t you think?”
“I’m flattered you thought of me, but, Kim, I need to start saving money. Leaving half my paychecks at the shop won’t help me find a place.”
“Honey, it’s been a long day, and I’m knackered, so I’ll be blunt. Take this dress, it’s your bonus for your promotion. Now get ready, because a certain fireman is due any minute to take you out.” She pushed Whitney away from the register and toward the rack where the dress hung.
Whitney stumbled, whining over her shoulder, “No, this is too much. I can’t take this.”
“You’re right, you can’t take it. You may have it, my gift to you. Now hush up and get ready. Mr. Mays should be here soon.”
Cocking her hip, Whitney couldn’t fight back a smile. “Why do I feel like Daisy was involved?”
“Because you’re my general manager, which means you’re smart. We had this plan cooked up before everything went a little topsy turvy, but it all worked out in the end.”
Ten minutes later, Whitney stood in front of the three-way mirror, spinning around in the new dress. The fit was perfect, nearly a second skin from her bust to her hips. The skirt flared out when she twirled, and she couldn’t wait to see how it looked while dancing. More importantly, while dancing with Trevor.
Speaking of the devil, the man himself strode into the shop, the bell tinkering overhead. His dark red hair was slicked back, and he’d shaved since they saw each other, the cleft in his chin practically winking at her. He stepped toward her, only to stop when their gazes snagged.
“Darlin’,” he said, voice dangerously low, “you’re a vision.”
Whitney believed him, too. She closed the distance, pulling him in for a hug and a peck on the cheek. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Clad in jeans that hung low on his hips, he’d opted for a gingham shirt made for county fairs and warm summer nights.
“I don’t know if Kim spilled the beans, but I thought I’d take you to the barn dance tonight.” His hands rested on her hips, squeezing gently before pulling her close for one more peck on the cheek. “Is that all right?”
“It’s perfect, now get!” Kim ordered, placing a hand on each of their backs and shoving them out the door. “See you at nine tomorrow. If you need your things, Daisy already picked them up from my place and dropped them at Trevor’s. Bye!” And with that, Kim slammed the door shut, flipped the deadbolt, and took down the Open sign.
Whitney huffed. “Geez, so much for taking it slow.”
Trevor pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, bringing her attention to him. “You can stay anywhere you’d like. I can sleep at Momma’s for all I care. They wanted to give you privacy is all.”
Whitney wasn’t buying it. “They wanted to set me up for a booty call,” she teased. “Your momma has no chill.”
Trevor’s head fell back as he laughed. “No argument here, but I meant what I said. You set the pace, starting now.” He stepped back, holding out his hand. “May I take you dancing tonight?”
As if waking up in the pages of one of her favorite romance novels, Whitney took Trevor’s hand and squeezed. “It’s a date,” she said, nestling against his side for the walk down Main Street. She had no idea what the evening would bring, but she knew it would be magic. Anything with this man by her side felt right, and Whitney was ready to have some fun.
*
B ringing his A-game was Trevor’s only option tonight. He knew he was the luckiest man in Pinegrove for Whitney to give him another chance. He wouldn’t waste it, and he was grateful—for once—that his momma was a busybody. Within an hour of sharing his plan, Kim and Daisy had jumped into action to make the night as perfect as possible.
Trevor had no intention of forcing Whitney to do anything, but he knew she’d need a place to sleep tonight. Considering the fact that her things were still packed at Kim’s, and Kim was a hopeless romantic, she and Daisy teamed up to throw the poor guy a bone. Her bag was packed and ready at his place, but he’d happily take her wherever she wanted to go—as long as she was happy, that’s all he wanted.
Those Whitney Kerr smiles had grown rather important to Trevor. It was like when he was a kid and his parents took Jessie and him to the beach. They’d spend hours combing through the sand looking for the perfect seashells, only to inevitably forget the carefully found trinkets on the shore as they hurriedly packed up. Trevor thought the analogy was apt, as he had no intention of hustling away and losing anything Whitney wanted to give him.
Pulling their linked hands up to his mouth, Trevor pressed a kiss to the tender skin of Whitney’s wrist. Her pulse bounced against his lips, and he fought a smile. “Want to grab some supper before we head to the barn? I don’t know about you, but I plan on dancing up a storm.”
Whitney’s gray gaze regarded him, her lips quirking. “I could eat.”
“Then let’s see what the festival has on the menu.” After crossing the street, they stopped at a cluster of food trucks. Pointing with his free hand, he gestured to a BBQ truck, a taco truck, and a seafood truck. “What looks good? If you prefer something different, we can be at The Pecan Pit in five minutes.”
Whitney tapped her chin, studying their options. Finally, she said, “Tacos?”
Trevor’s stomach rumbled to life, and he beamed. “Tacos it is.” They got in line, quietly observing everyone around them. “How was the rest of your day?” he asked, dropping her hand in favor of wrapping an arm around her waist. Whitney was a vision in purple, the dress fitting her like a glove. It took every ounce of self-control not to twirl her around and have his way with her right in the food truck stall. Body shaking as she sighed, Trevor noticed how tired her eyes looked. “Are you all right? We can go home if you...”
Whitney shook her head so forcefully her black curls bounced around her face. “No, I mean yes, but no. I’m tired, but I’m fine. I had a stressful call with Winnie right before you arrived. She and I had another fight, and it’s the last thing I wanted after Baxter and already busy day.”
She nibbled her bottom lip, pretending to study the menu rather than meet his eye. “Sisters are a blessing and a curse,” he teased, striving to lighten the mood. “Momma said that Jessie is coming home for a visit.”
The topic change did the trick, and Whitney became more animated. “Oh, that’s great! You said you haven’t seen her in ages. You must miss her terribly.”
Trevor agreed, moving them up a few paces in line. “I do, very much. Although she’s coming home for Smithy, too.”
Whitney raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh, are you being a protective big brother?”
“Ha! No, I’m actually being a protective friend. Smithy is still in the hospital, and I know he wants to get back with Jessie.”
“Malcolm’s important to you?” Whitney observed, snatching a paper menu off the side counter at the truck. She trailed a finger down the offerings before nodding and handing it to Trevor.
Trevor took the menu, although he knew he was getting as many shrimp tacos as they’d give him. “Yeah, we’ve been friends since high school, and then when he joined the academy, I kind of took him under my wing. Plus, he and Javi are tight, so the three of us kind of pal around.” He shrugged, but there was nothing casual about Javi and Smithy to Trevor. They were his brothers, and he wanted them to be safe and happy. Unfortunately, while Smithy was likely to make a full recovery, the same could not be said about his heart if Jessie had her way. Their on-again off-again status was exhausting to everyone on the outside, and Trevor had no idea how Smithy could stand it.
Although, that wasn’t really true now, because Trevor would gladly suffer for the chance to see Whitney. God, this love stuff is a real bitch.
When they reached the front of the line, Whitney ordered two brisket tacos and Trevor ordered three shrimp tacos and a pair of Cokes. She reached into her purse for money, but Trevor shook away her offerings. “I invited you, it’s my treat.” She pursed her lips together, but she didn’t argue.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said, walking toward a picnic table another couple had just vacated.
Whitney lifted her skirt to slide onto the bench, and Trevor’s pulse hitched at the sight of her creamy thighs. Lordy, he needed to pull it together or he’d faint. Clearing his throat, he eased down next to her, resting his elbows on the tabletop.
He didn’t want to upset her with more talk of her sister, but she needed the chance to vent. “I’m sorry you had a rough call with Winnie. I’m sure whatever it is, she’ll come around.”
Whitney blew out a breath. “Probably, but that doesn’t mean I like where we are now. It’s kind of precarious, you know? Winnie is very type-A, works hard and barely takes time for herself. If anything goes wrong in her life, she’s quick to throw up walls and bury herself in work. I feel guilty that if I’m not there, she’ll just become some workaholic hermit or something.” She picked at the label on her Coke bottle, the pieces fluttering to the table.
“It’s not your responsibility to watch over your sister,” Trevor offered, knowing it was easier said than done. “Sometimes we just have to step back and hope our family does what’s right for them, but we can’t railroad them.” He chuckled, thinking of the many of the disagreements between Jessie and him over the years. “Trust me, I speak from experience.”
Before they could dive further into family drama, the clerk from the taco truck arrived with two plates of heaven.
“Hello, gorgeous.” Whitney gasped as she picked up her first taco and took a bite. “Oh my goodness,” she moaned, head thrown back like she was about to recreate a scene from a Meg Ryan movie.
Trevor ate one of his tacos in two bites, eager to avoid getting aroused in public. They inhaled their dinners, both eager to move on with their plans for the night. Just as Trevor collected their trays, Paul and Daisy arrived at their table.
Whitney hopped to her feet before Trevor realized they had company. “Daisy, Paul, hello!”
Daisy kissed Whitney’s cheek before sitting on the opposite side of the picnic table. She was focused on Trevor in a way that made his shirt feel too tight. Yanking on his collar, he asked, “What brings you two over here? I thought we’d see you at the dance.”
Paul sat next to Daisy, covering her hand with his. “We’re on our way, son. First, I need to tell you something.”
Trevor swallowed the rest of his taco, hoping he wasn’t about to get more bad news. “Is it about Jessie?” He looked to his mother, who merely shook her head.
“Jessie’s fine, sugar. She lands tomorrow. No, this is about the station.” She nudged Paul in the side until he spoke up.
“I’m just coming out with it, and we’ll figure out the logistics later.”
Whitney balled up her napkin and tossed it on her empty plate. “Oh dear,” she muttered.
“Hastings resigned this afternoon,” Paul announced, nearly knocking Trevor from his seat.
“I’m sorry, what?” Trevor was idly aware that Whitney had scooted closer, wrapping her hand around his bicep. “Hastings quit? Just like that?”
“Well, it was a little more nuanced, but yeah. I went in this afternoon to talk with him, to question some of his behavior. On top of everything you, Smithy, Javi, and I discussed this week, he was a no-show at the fire last night. Hence why Virginia was there asking around. Despite it being all hands-on deck, he chose not to assist at a massive fire involving his station. I would have been able to fire him if he didn’t beat me to it by quitting.”
Beside him, Whitney found her words first, and asked, “What does this mean for Trevor and the captain position?”
For the first time since joining them, Paul beamed. “It means that first thing next week, I’ll attend the city council meeting with the very short list of recommendations for captain. Not only does Trevor have years of experience, accolades, and references, but he was on the scene first with the team, staying until the end even at the risk of his own safety. That’s a leader.”
Trevor’s eyes welled at Paul’s words, his throat burned with the effort. “That’s um”—he coughed, dipping his head and wiping his eyes with a rumpled napkin—“that’s good news, sir.”
Whitney rested a hand on his neck, running her fingers up through his hair. She leaned close, her lips right by his ear as she whispered, “It’s more than good news, Captain.”
“We’ll let y’all enjoy the rest of your evening,” Daisy said, pushing to her feet and dragging Paul with her. “Have fun at the dance, and...” She paused, rummaging through her handbag and pulling out the spare key Whitney had returned. “You take this in case you get enough of my fool son.” She winked to soften the blow, and Whitney smiled.
“I’m sorry for running away like that.”
“Don’t apologize,” Daisy and Trevor said in unison.
Whitney giggled, tucking the key into her own purse. “Okay, geez. Then I guess we should get dancing.”
Trevor hugged both his mother and Paul goodbye, his hands shaking with nerves and excitement. Whitney looped her arm through his as they headed toward the big barn on the outskirts of downtown. Back in the day, it had been a mill, but in the last few years it had been renovated into a community space for the festival and other town events.
When they reached the entrance to the dance, his ears rang from the music and noisy chatter. Trevor pulled Whitney to the side. “Do you mind if we take a minute?” he asked, carefully leading the way around the rear of the barn.
A gravel pathway led toward the creek that meandered through Pinegrove; the same creek they sat by after their date at Cajun Carl’s. The water babbled, covered by a canopy of pines and oak trees, the air scented with juniper. These quiet pockets by the creek all looked similar and reminded Trevor of their first official date.
“Where are you taking me, Mr. Mays? I’m still not dressed for craw dadding,” she quipped.
“Over by the creek for a minute. At the risk of sounding like a selfish jerk, I’m not ready to share you yet.”
When they stepped under the pine trees, the air cooled slightly. Whitney stayed close to his side, her eyes taking in the woods, their footfalls muffled by the din of the dance. “This is lovely; nice and quiet,” she mused. “As much as I love dancing, I’m enjoying a little quiet.”
Trevor stopped at a rock that was big enough for two to sit, easing himself down before pulling Whitney onto his lap. Their noses touched, breath lingering between them. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, voice strained from fatigue and the emotions surging through him.
“You can tell me anything,” she promised, pecking the tip of his nose with a kiss that he craved.
“Despite how this week started, and smoke inhalation and visits from our exes notwithstanding, this has been the best week of my life.”
Whitney’s smile damn near blinded him. “You earned that promotion, and I know Paul will do his best to—”
Trevor brought his hand up, cupping her cheek and tracing his thumb over her bottom lip. “The job isn’t the only reason I’m so happy. I love having you here, and I will make it my life’s mission to make you happy and a permanent resident of Pinegrove.”
Whitney melted into his hold, and Trevor was grateful they’d skipped the dance. He closed what little distance that remained, lips tangling in a kiss that consumed him. This kiss was more than passion, it was a promise of a future.
Reluctantly coming up for air, Trevor said, “Darlin’, as much as I’d love to dance the night away, I’m a little beat.”
“Take me back to your place?” Whitney asked, her hands skimming up and down his arms. Even in the July heat, he shivered. Making a face, she warned, “No funny business. This is really about resting. We’ve both been through it.”
“Whitney, you had me at rest.” Trevor stood, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and led the way back to his pickup.
By the time they made it back to Trevor’s, he was surprised they were able to walk under their own power. But it was perfect, having Whitney in his space. He hoped it was only the beginning of more time together.