Page 9 of Eternally Devoted

“Hey ya, Dash.” She smiles, giving me the same perfect grin that her older sister wears. Her eyes dip to the sweating jug of milk cradled in my arm. “Got your favorite, I see.”

I nod. “Yeah. I made some chocolate sandwich cookies last night.” I hold up the jug. “This is my dunking milk.”

Her eyes widen. “That sounds amazing.”

“Choc-y cookie?” her daughter Honey repeats, curling her chubby little hands around her mommy’s neck as she sinks against her shoulder.

“I’ll bring you some, Honey girl,” I tell the little cherub, wiggling the tip of my finger into her belly. She squeals with delight, and Dolly smiles.

“Juni’s at her booth,” she says, passing me a knowing smirk. We’ve only ever been friends, me and Juni, yet Dolly has always looked at me like she’s aware of my feelings for her sister.

“Thanks, Dol.” My radio chirps about a shift change in dispatch, but I reach up and quiet it as I approach Juniper’s booth, my heart already racing. Stepping around a woman with a bag of oranges and a jug of milk, Juniper comes into view. Her long dress swishes with the light breeze as she focuses oncarefully facing her jars, making sure the labels are aligned. Goldenrod hair in a braid fit for a queen draped over her shoulder, I can’t help but smile when I notice the smattering of purple stains on her white dress. She’s made jam in that dress, and for whatever reason, that bricks me up a little.

Today is inconvenient boner day, isn’t it?

Stepping beneath the canopy, I smile, reaching up to push her braid off her shoulder. “Hey,” I greet softly. Her green eyes lift from the jars, and she squeals when she sees me, rushing around the side of the booth for a hug.

We hug, and I bury my nose in her hair, basking in the scent of fresh berries and simmering sugar. We break apart and she taps the jug of milk in my hand. “Dunking milk?”

I nod. “Yeah. For those homemade Oreos I made.”

“Save me some!” She beams, circling back to the other side of her booth.

I survey the jars on the table, pointing to my favorite flavor,Strawbarb. “I’ll take a jar,” I say, using my free hand to fish my wallet from my back pocket.

She laughs. “You get 12 jars a month, Dash.”

“Sterl and I get 12 jars,” I clarify, “and I really love jam.”

Her eyes shine as her plump lips part, like she wants to say something. I wonder if she knows that my love of jam is a metaphor.

She passes the jar to me after I pass her my bills. Then, as if she only just processed my comment, she puts her hands on her hips, confusion lining her forehead. “WhereisSterling?”

Clutching the edge of her table, she leans over her booth, peering through the groups of people, searching for him. We both know if he were here, he’d berighthere.

Accepting he’s really not here, her shoulders droop, sadness visibly weighing her down. Her reaction erases any lingering doubt.

Theyshould be together.

She should be with a Bluebell lifer, just like herself. A man with longstanding roots, one who doesn’t have a job that puts his life at risk, a man who has arms built for protection and comfort alike.

I’m just wasting their time being a third wheel they can’t get rid of, and they’re both just too nice to tell me to kick fuckin’ rocks.

Hit the road.

Get. The. Fuck. Out.

“I gotta run, Juni,” I tell her, stepping back from the booth as I find Keanu in the crowd. He has his fudge, which means we have no reason to stay. “Have a good afternoon. Text me later.”

She smiles, but disappointment keeps her eyes from shining.

In the cruiser, I sit quietly, unable to stop thinking about Sterling and Juniper.

I couldn’t see it before, through my own rose-colored glasses, but now I know for sure that tonight’s talk has to happen.

CHAPTER

FOUR

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