Page 12 of Roughing It

Kirk grabs the first bag with a huff, almost falling over at its weight. “What did you pack in this thing? Rocks?”

“No! Only the necessities, like you said.”

“Four suitcases are the necessities? Oh, my bad. I meant four suitcases packed to the brim and weighing in at a metric ton each are just the necessities?”

“I may have overdone it a little, but I don’t know what I’m walking into! You haven’t told me where I’m spending the month, so I have warm clothes, cool clothes, a variety of shoes and accessories, my makeup, my skincare routine, my hair straightener and curler.”

Kirk’s raised eyebrows stop me mid-list.

“Okay, I may see your point. You said we are flying into Albuquerque? At least tell me which direction we’re going from there. Fall in New Mexico could be comfortable, like here, or cold if we’re higher in the mountains.”

“We’re heading Northeast from there. I recommend warmer clothing.” He shoots my thin yoga pants and cropped high-neck tank a critical once over.

“I was planning to wear a cardigan.”

He points to my platform sneakers. “So along with warm, I also suggest some of the more practical items you have.”

“Fine.” My eyes bounce from suitcase to suitcase, something suspiciously similar to failure flitting around my chest. “I need more time.”

“I figured. I was actually an hour early. Let’s see if we can narrow this down.” His calm smile has some of my nasty doubts melting.

He’s such a sneaky little shit. And I couldn’t be more thankful for it. Or him. Even if I do help fund his lifestyle, he’s still the most trustworthy and nicest person in my life.

Jeez, that’s depressing.

“Earth to BB. You there?”

Kirk’s teasing and the waft of coffee beneath my nose pull me back from my mini spiral. “Oh, yeah. I’m ready to make the hard cuts.” Opening the nearest suitcase, I pull out items. “My custom shampoo and conditioner? Necessity. My custom perfume? Not a necessity. See? Easy.”

A blush heats my cheeks when Kirk fixes his gaze on the fluffy blankets and extra pillows. When did I become this person? I survived for much longer with much, much less. Thirty days is a walk in the park. I’ve grown accustomed to things a certain way, but my determination and pride are riding on this, too. I’m not just a spoiled social media star.

With renewed determination, I dump out the entire bag and then do it again three more times.

“Get the ring light, Kirk. If I have to pack all over, we may as well film it.”

Kirk grins. “This is pure gold already.”

The tiny town of Trail Creek is picturesque. Hell, it’s adorable. Its pristine downtown square, four stop lights, and mom-and-pop shops are giving me major flashbacks. I grew up in a place like this—a tiny West Texas town straight off the set of a made-for-TV romcom, at least on the surface—but the shiny, happy facade of my childhood hometown hid a hideous inside. One full of people who love to judge and gossip but never do a damn thing when you actually need them.

Panic claws at my throat. What am I doing? I ran at seventeen and never looked back. Swore I’d never end up in a one-horse town where people think they know everything and look down on you for it again.

People still think they know everything about me and judge me, but at least as Blakely Bradshaw, I control the narrative. Plain ol’ Blake Lee Shaw never had that luxury.

“BB, you okay?”

I force a smile to my lips. Myon-airvoice slips out. “Of course! I mean, look at this little hamlet. People will eat it up. I can already picture the Stars Hollow comparisons in the comments. Can you grab some rolling shots through town for me?”

“For sure. And you’re right; it’s charming.”

Swallowing back a sour retort, I point out the window. “Is that a bakery? Let’s grab a snack.”

As soon as Kirk and I step inside, the rich aroma of coffee roasting perks up my mood and attention.

“Hi, welcome to The Bee and The Bean.” A young girl in her mid to late teens greets me while the pretty woman beside her goes wide-eyed.

“Blakely Bradshaw? Oh my gosh, I follow you! You’re really here.” The tall woman comes around the counter and extends her hand. “I’m Clairy Davis, welcome to Trail Creek.”

I silently curse myself for suggesting we stop. I don’t look awful, but I do look like I’ve been traveling for six hours. And thanks to the wholeonly packing necessitiesthing, I don’t have my travel bag of emergency makeup. I smooth my high ponytail and turn my smile up to eleven.

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