Chapter 6
Silas
I held the door open for her more out of habit than chivalry—but truth be told, June Fontenot brought out manners I didn’t know I still had.
I stepped across the threshold right after her into Mabel’s Table, the only diner in town—and a popular haunt for damn near everyone who lived in Willow Grove.
More than a few heads turned our way, searching for the latest gossip.
I guess I should’ve known that would happen… but I didn’t particularly care.
I realized with a start that I didn’t mind being seen with June Fontenot.
In fact, I liked it.
She didn’t flinch under the scrutiny, either—just lifted her chin a little higher like she was used to being judged, eyes flicking around the room as she smiled at the diners.
She was so goddamn charismatic, so bright, so forgiving…
the opposite of me. I wanted to tell all these people to go to hell; she was beatific.
And it wasn’t an act.
That was the part that really got me.
She caught me watching her and tilted her head as we waited for the hostess to help us. “What?”
“Nothin’,” I said, and it was almost true.
Just you being you.
The place was crowded, and the hostess ended up taking us over to a tiny corner booth that barely had enough space for the two of us.
We were seated side by side, my thigh pressed against June’s.
But it wasn’t uncomfortable…far from it.
It made me want to get closer to her, to see if some of that divine radiance might rub off on me.
I caught Mabel looking at us from behind the counter and shook my head.
“Everything okay?” June asked.
“Just…reconsidering comin’ here, now that I’ve remembered how many damn gossips are regulars.”
June cocked an eyebrow at me. “What’s there to gossip about?”
She knew the answer. I knew she knew it. But she asked anyway, like she wanted me to say it out loud, to make me squirm.
I didn’t give her the satisfaction.
Instead, I picked up the menu, even though I already knew it by heart.
“Could be anything,” I said. “Could be the fact that I haven’t been seen in here with a woman in well over ten years.
Could be that you’re somewhat of a local celebrity after damn near the whole town showed up for your wexorcism…
or could be that we’re sittin’ too close in this booth for anyone not to have questions. ”
June gave me a look—quiet, steady, amused. Her lashes lowered as she sipped from her water, then set the glass back down with a grace I knew damn well was cultivated and practiced. She may have been feeling more…but she was wearing a pristine mask.
“Silas,” she started, “what are we doing here?”
I shrugged, knowing she wanted more—and realizing I wasn’t ready to answer that question.
“Eatin’ dinner,” I said simply.
Mabel made her way over a minute later, apparently deeming us important enough to take our order herself. “Well,” she drawled, “ain’t this a surprise.”
“Evenin’, Mabel,” I said.
“Evenin’, sugar. And evenin’ to you, Miss Fontenot.”
June smiled up at her. “It feels good to be remembered—but it’s actually Reverend Fontenot now.”
Mabel’s brows shot up. “Ah…is that so? Silas Ward—bringin’ a lady of the cloth in here lookin’ like you just sinned in the baptismal.”
“We weren’t doin’ anything sinful, Mabel,” I growled.
“Yet,” she chided.
June choked on her water, coughing into her napkin while I shot daggers across the table at Mabel, who looked entirely unrepentant. If anything, she looked delighted.
“Don’t look at me like that, kid,” she said, flipping her notepad open. “If y’all don’t want the whole town talkin’, maybe don’t come strollin’ in all flushed and glowing, sittin’ thigh to thigh like a pair of teenagers behind the gym.”
June recovered, still pink-cheeked but smiling. “I know we’ve only just met, but you’ll find I’m the pillar of virtue.”
“Sure you are, honey,” Mabel said. “And I’m the queen of England.”
That earned a laugh from June—and even from me, reluctantly.
“I’ll have the fried catfish,” June said. “And an iced tea, extra lemon.”
Mabel turned to me, pencil hovering. “Let me guess. Same thing you always get—smothered pork chop and cornbread with no butter, because God forbid a Ward brother take pleasure in anything.”
“Make it two butters,” I muttered.
“Oh,” she said, eyes twinkling. “You’re in love.”
“Mabel—”
“I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” she said, already backing away. “Just sayin’, this is startin’ to feel an awful lot like when Rhett brought Willow in here the first time. And we all know how that turned out.”
Then she disappeared into the kitchen, humming something low and off-key.
June looked at me. “Is she always like that?”
“Only when she’s eavesdroppin’.”
“Which is…always?”
“Correct.”
She bit her lip, clearly fighting another laugh, then glanced down at the table. Her fingers were close to mine—closer than they needed to be. My hand twitched, maybe on its own or maybe of my own will…and our knuckles tapped together.
June cleared her throat. “I have to ask again,” she said. “What are we doing?”
This time, I didn’t hedge—didn’t smirk, didn’t flirt.
I just looked her in the eye and lowered my voice.
“I’m sittin’ beside a woman I should’ve paid better attention to at my brother’s wedding,” I said, “and I’m wonderin’ what would’ve happened if I had.”
June’s eyes stayed on mine for a long moment. We’d talked for a long time at that wedding…we’d danced, she’d even gotten a few smiles out of me.
But we hadn’t gotten to this place. Not to acknowledging the tension that crackled between us.
Not to seeing each other as potential…as lovers.
Then, quietly, she said, “I wasn’t ready then.”
I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t either.”
Another silence passed between us, charged and bright. June reached for her tea and went to pick it up—but paused when I moved my hand to twine my fingers with hers.
“You ready now?” she asked.
I opened my mouth, shut it again. I didn’t know what to say, worried I might say too much—that I might confess to every night I’d sat with a drink in my hand and wondered if she ever thought about me too. That I might admit I’d thought more than once about asking Delilah about her.
That I might say I dreamed of her more than I’d dreamt of Amelia in the past year…and didn’t that just twist me up inside?
So instead, I tightened my fingers around hers.
June didn’t pull away.
The food came a moment later, and we disentangled our hands before Mabel could comment. She definitely noticed anyway, eyes darting pointedly down at the table as she put our plates down.
We didn’t talk much as we ate—not because we didn’t want to, but because we were both fucking starving. June dug into her catfish like it might vanish if she blinked, while I cut into my pork chop with single-minded focus.
I put both pats of butter on my cornbread.
Because maybe I really was falling in love.
And when Mabel came back to check on us, she didn’t even pretend not to gloat.
“Y’all need anything else?” she asked, leaning on the edge of the booth like she was ready to start wedding planning.
I shook my head. “Just the check.”
“Already?” Her brows lifted. “Didn’t even get dessert.”
I glanced at June, who raised her eyebrows back at me like she was daring me to answer that one honestly.
“No dessert,” I said, voice low. “We’ve got somewhere to be.”
Mabel looked downright delighted.
“Oh, I bet you do,” she said, already scribbling something down. “And I’ll just go ahead and box y’all up a slice of peach cobbler. For later.”
She disappeared before either of us could stop her.
June smiled into her tea. “She’s going to tell everyone.”
“She was always gonna tell everyone,” I said. “Might as well give her a good story.”
June looked over at me—eyes warm, voice quiet. “You planning on giving her a story, Silas?”
I didn’t answer right away.
I just reached for my wallet.
Because yeah.
Yeah, I was.