Chapter 19
Lily
I woke up Saturday morning with my cheeks still sore from smiling. The image kept looping through my mind: Ethan and the guys stomping on that picnic table, half the town honking and hollering, the whole square chanting “Hang on Sloopy” at the top of their lungs.
It had been ridiculous. And wonderful. And for the first time in I don’t know how long, I’d felt like I almost wanted to be part of something instead of pressing my nose against the glass.
But wanting was tricky. It always carried shadows.
I knew what it felt like to be on the outside.
Watching the community close ranks around Ethan last night had been beautiful…
and it had stung. It reminded me of what I’d never had.
The pang came swift and sharp, but I did what I always did: shoved it down, pasted a smile over it, and leaned into the fun.
I stretched, then winced when something tiny and sharp raked my ankle. “Ow—hey!” I yelped, jerking back the quilt. A little puff of orange-and-white fur blinked up at me, wide-eyed and completely unrepentant.
“You again,” I muttered, scooping him up. He purred immediately, vibrating against my chest like a tiny motor.
I carried the kitten downstairs, still purring in my arms, and set him on the counter while I filled the coffeepot.
When the coffee was finally ready, I poured a mug and added sugar, and the kitten immediately batted at the spoon, causing coffee to slosh over the rim. Surprisingly, I found myself laughing instead of swearing.
“Fine,” I told him, setting the mug down with exaggerated care. “You win. But I’m still getting caffeine.” I scooped him up before he could make another grab for the coffee, tucking him against my chest.
I wiggled into sandals and slipped out the front door and crossed the short stretch of grass to Carol’s porch. Her kitchen light was already glowing, curtains pulled back, the smell of something warm drifting out the screen.
I knocked once before stepping in. Carol had told me more than once that her door was always open. She was at the stove, humming softly as she flipped pancakes.
“Morning, dear,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a smile. “You were out late last night.”
“Research,” I said, settling into a chair at the kitchen table while the kitten nosed around my lap.
Carol chuckled, shaking her head. “Looks like you’ve made a friend.”
I nodded, scratching under the kitten’s chin. “Yeah. And he’s a handful.”
I hesitated, then added, “I learned some good things, though. About the fair. About this place. Joni gave me stories I can actually use.”
Carol smiled, but her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Let me guess. She told you about her pies?”
“Pie and whipped cream everywhere,” I said, laughing. “Apparently, Ethan was part of the pie-eating contest? Though he neglected to tell me that part.”
Carol barked out a laugh, flipping a pancake. “Oh, I remember. Your Mr. Calloway nearly turned green halfway through but refused to quit because Nate was still going. Boys were both sick for a day afterward. And proud of themselves the whole time.”
I grinned at that image, sipping my coffee. “Sounds about right.”
“And what else?” Carol pressed, clearly enjoying herself.
“Well, after Joni’s, Ethan marched me straight into his truck. Next thing I knew, we were crawling along Main Street in this parade of cars—kids hanging out of windows, music blasting, horns honking. Apparently, it’s a whole thing.”
Her whole face softened, remembering a sweeter time.
“Cruising the square,” she said with a warm laugh.
“That’s been a thing here since long before I showed up.
When I first moved to Willowbrook—fresh out of college and thinking I knew everything—the local boys insisted on taking me for a loop in someone’s beat-up Chevy.
I swear I thought I was the queen of the county with the wind in my hair.
” She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m sure the boys acted like fools? ”
I smirked into my coffee. “You could say that. There was a fight song performance. Choreography included.”
That got a full-on laugh from Carol, the kind that made her wipe her eyes with her apron. “Oh, those boys. They did that at pep rallies in high school, too. Only back then, Nate ripped his jeans trying to do a straddle jump. Didn’t stop him. He finished the whole song with his boxers showing.”
I snorted, nearly spilling my coffee. The kitten pawed at my sleeve, unimpressed with the story but delighted with my reaction.
“Well, who knows what today has in store. Ethan’s promised me a full crash course, so I should probably go get ready before he shows up at my door with a checklist.”
Carol waved me off with her spatula. “Have fun, dear. And come tell me all about it later. I want every detail.”
I laughed, scooping the kitten back into my arms. “Deal.”
Back at my place, I flicked on the little stereo on my dresser and let No Doubt’s “Just a Girl” spill through the room. Gwen Stefani’s voice filled the walls while I stood in front of the mirror, kitten weaving between my ankles like he had opinions about my outfit.
I wasn’t about to do “small town casual.” Not when I had options.
After rifling through my closet, I landed on a pair of high-waisted white shorts and a fitted lime-green tank that tied at the shoulders.
Wedge sandals gave me just enough height to feel powerful but still practical enough to tromp through whatever fields Ethan decided to drag me into.
I lined my eyes with a sweep of black pencil, added a swipe of glossy berry lipstick, and clipped a butterfly barrette into my hair, a nod to the fashion pages I used to tear out of Seventeen Magazine.
I gave the mirror one last once-over, tilting my head. Perfectly Willowbrook? Maybe not. But perfectly Lily Harper. And if Ethan thought I was going to trade in fashion for flannel, he had another thing coming.
A sharp knock rattled my front door just as I was blotting the extra gloss off my lips. The kitten gave a startled squeak and bolted under the couch.
I grabbed my tote and pulled the door open to find Ethan on the porch, hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes swept over me once, making my stomach flip before he cleared his throat.
“You ready?” His voice was steady, but his ears were pink.
I took him in, too, unable to help myself.
He’d traded last night’s button-down for a plain gray T-shirt that stretched across his shoulders in a way that was…
distracting. Faded jeans, boots scuffed at the toes, a well-worn Reds baseball cap pulled low, and a hint of stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave.
He looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him behind the bookstore counter, and annoyingly cute for someone who probably thought this outfit of mine was over the top.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, locking the door behind me.
The morning sun pressed warm on my shoulders as I followed him out to the truck. Cicadas buzzed in the trees, the air thick with the promise of another beautiful day. Ethan opened the passenger door and gestured me in, polite as ever.
Once I’d settled in the passenger seat, Ethan shut the door with more care than I expected and rounded to his side. The engine rumbled to life, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything—just glanced my way again, quick but noticeable, before fixing his eyes on the road.
I smoothed my shorts and pretended not to notice, though heat crept up my neck. “So,” I said lightly, “are you at least going to tell me where we’re headed, or is this a full mystery tour?”
He kept his eyes on the road, mouth tugging at one corner. “You’ll see.”
I settled into the seat, tucking my tote by my feet as Ethan pulled away from the curb.
“Well,” I said, glancing at him, “Carol told me to come back later and give her a full report. She seemed pretty amused when I mentioned the fight song experience from last night.”
That drew an honest smile out of him. “Of course she was. Carol’s been keeping tabs on me and the guys since we were old enough to cause trouble. She probably still remembers Nate ripping his jeans during a pep rally.”
I laughed, picturing it. “She does. She actually told me that story this morning. I think she enjoys embarrassing you.”
“She does,” he admitted, shaking his head. “She’s like a second mom to half this town. Keeps us all in line, whether we like it or not.”
I toyed with the strap of my bag. “It must be nice. Having someone like that, someone who knows all your stories.” I tried to keep my tone light, but the words clung to a truth I never said: I’d never had that.
No one who remembered the small things, who cared enough to tease.
For a second, I wanted it so badly my chest ached.
His jaw worked, but he didn’t answer right away. Finally, he said, quieter, “Yeah. It is.”
The road curved past a line of weathered barns, fields stretching gold and green on either side. Ethan drummed his fingers lightly on the wheel, then said, “So… you’ve told me about work. About all the big city adventures. But what about before that? Where’d you grow up?”
I stiffened before I could stop myself, eyes fixed on the horizon. “All over,” I said lightly. “A little bit of everywhere, really.”
He glanced at me, brow creasing. “That’s not much of an answer.”
“It’s the best one I’ve got,” I countered with a quick smile, hoping it sounded breezy. “Moving was kind of my thing.”
His hands tightened on the wheel again. “Must’ve been hard.”
I shrugged, keeping my gaze on the rows of corn rushing past. “Depends on how you look at it. You learn to adjust fast. Blend in. Make yourself useful.”
Ethan let that hang for a moment. “Still. Seems like it’d get lonely.”
The word brushed against something raw inside me, and I hurried to shove it down. I leaned back, flashing him a grin that felt steadier than it was. “Well, lucky me, I’m not lonely anymore. Not with you dragging me to mystery destinations all weekend.”