“You want me to come help?”
I know Greer doesn’t have time to spare with everything going on in her life right now, but she’s the kind of friend who would drop it all to help me anyway.
“No, I can take care of all of this. Just let me know what they say.”
“I’ll call you back as soon as I know something.”
“Love you, Greer.”
“Love you, B.”
When I hang up the phone, I focus on not getting my hopes up. There could be a million reasons why this won’t work. I lift my feet onto the couch and wrap my arms around my knees to hug them close to my chest.
But what if it does work?
I think of how Logan stormed out of my apartment without looking back.
Am I ready to face him?
Every time I’ve thought about never seeing him again, this funny tightness would pinch in my chest, making me wonder if I was too young to have a heart attack, because it couldn’t possibly befeelingscausing it. Then I’d tell myself it was for the best.
But now that the opportunity might be right in front of me ... I can’t pass up the chance.
This probably deserves some kind of red alert. I’m not ready to be done with a guy after one night.
Logan Brantley is unlike any man I’ve ever met before, so why am I surprised that he’s the one to throw me completely off my game?
I let a scene play out in my head. What would happen if I showed up in Gold Haven, Kentucky, and walked into his repair shop? I can just picture the look on his face.Shock.But maybe excitement too?
But I’d have the upper hand, at least for a moment.
I make my decision as impulsively as I do everything else. If Greer’s brother and sister-in-law say yes, I’m going to do it.
Banner Regent is packing up her shit (and vodka) and moving to Kentucky.
Chapter 20
Logan
As I push my cart down the aisle of Piggly Wiggly, I can feel eyes on me. My hands and clothes are clean, no trace of grease, but the scent of Fast Orange still clings. I nod to Mrs. Krispin, who works at the post office, and Ms. Cheadle, who works at the pharmacy.
Before I left town to join the corps, the manager would have been trailing after me to make sure I didn’t shoplift, but today, eyes follow me for a completely different reason.
I stop in front of the meat case and pick up a couple of packages of steak. I’m checking out the marbling when Gloria Barnum pushes her cart up next to mine.
“I bet you’ve got some real talent with a grill.”
I choose a package and meet her gaze. “I do all right. I’m sure there are people who do it better.”
She scans the contents of my cart—a couple of dozen eggs, two pounds of bacon, orange juice, and a box of pancake mix. I haven’t made it over to the lunch meat, bread, or beer yet.
“You trying to live on breakfast food, Logan Brantley? Might need a touch of variety in your diet. My daughter Jessica makes a tasty bacon-stuffed chicken casserole. She grates her own cheese instead of using Velveeta, even though it melts faster. I know she’d love to make it for you some night.”
Gloria’s smile is as kind as her invitation, but I know what would happen if I accepted.
“That’s a real nice thought, ma’am, but I’m a pretty simple guy and I can fend for myself. I’ll get some potatoes to go with that steak. Maybe even some burger and buns, and I’ll be set for a week.”
She shakes her head, tsk-tsking quietly. “It’s such a shame you have to cook every meal for yourself or go out. Jessica has to carry the whole load at her place now since that lowlife boyfriend of hers took off before the baby was even born. Give her a call sometime. I bet you’d both find it pretty nice to have someone to share a meal with now and again.”