Page 15 of Secret Southern Promises

“You’re lucky I love you,” I said, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I know.” He rolled his eyes but leaned into the gesture just enough that I knew he meant it.

Nash grabbed his backpack off the counter and headed toward the door. “I’ll let Mr. Barnes know you’re in for the pie auction.”

“Wait, is that the same Mr. Barnes who tried to set fire to the science lab last year during the chemical experiment?” I called after him, narrowing my eyes.

Nash paused halfway out the door, shooting me that familiar grin of his. “Yeah, he was a crap science teacher, but I’m pretty sure he’s got the library thing under control. He hasn’t set it on fire yet this year.”

“That’s probably for the best,” I replied, raising an eyebrow. The thought of Mr. Barnes having anything to do with open flames wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I’ll see you after school. I’m going to lift weights for a bit. Is that okay?”

I nodded, knowing he liked to squeeze in some time at the gym before heading over to the store. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just be at the store by four-thirty. There are a bunch of boxes that need to be broken down.”

Nash let out a long, dramatic sigh but nodded. “Fine. Do you think I could put up a flier for the pie auction while I’m at it?”

“Sure can,” I said, glancing down at the crumpled paper he’d handed me earlier. “Maybe grab one that isn’t wrinkled to death first.”

He smirked, knowing full well the state of the flier was his fault. “Later, Mom,” he called, heading out the door.

“Love you,” I called after him.

He waved a hand without looking back, acknowledgment enough for him, and then he was off, heading toward school with his usual easy stride.

I stood there for a moment, reading over the flier again. Four weeks. That’s how long I had to get a solid game plan together before the auction. Plenty of time, but knowing myself, I’d start early. My pies weren’t going to bake themselves, and if Nash had convinced himself I could bring in big bucks with my mile-high apple pie, I wasn’t about to let him down.

But that was for later. Right now, I had the morning to myself since Seth and Marvin had already opened up the store. I didn’t need to head in until lunchtime.

I decided to make myself some breakfast—nothing fancy, just eggs and toast. I grabbed a couple of eggs from the fridge, cracked them into the pan, and watched the yolks sizzle as I tossed some bread in the toaster. The kitchen filled with the comforting scent of breakfast cooking, and I couldn’t help but smile. Mornings like these were my favorite. Quiet, slow, with just enough time to sit and think before the day really got going.

Once the eggs were done and the toast popped up, I set my plate on the table and poured myself a cup of coffee. I’d just sat down when my phone buzzed on the counter. I reached over and saw Lindsay’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey,” I called into the phone after putting it on speaker. “What’s up?”

“Hey!” Lindsay’s voice rang out, full of energy as always. “Are you working?”

“Nope, not until later. I’m just sitting down to eat breakfast.”

“Good, good,” she said, her tone shifting to one of curiosity. “I need to know what’s been going on there.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what she was fishing for. “Not much, honestly.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. You haven’t called me in a few days, so I’m not buying that. What’s going on with the Boone front?”

I sighed, knowing there was no dodging her question. “Well, if you must know, Sam and Renee came into the store the other day.”

Lindsay made a noise of disgust. “Ugh, those two? They’ve always been jerks.”

“Tell me about it. So, they’re standing by the register, pretending like I can’t hear them, and they start talking about Boone being back in town.”

“And?” Lindsay pressed, clearly waiting for the good part.

“And they didn’t have anything nice to say about me, that’s for sure,” I replied with a wry smile. “They called me ‘Molly’—on purpose, mind you—and asked if I’d heard Boone was back. Then they started hinting around about whether we’d rekindled anything.”

“What a couple of vultures,” Lindsay said, her voice full of indignation. “So what did you say?”

“I told them I’d seen Boone a few days ago, which was true, but then I shut it down. Told them I was too busy with the store and Nash to be worrying about old flames.” I paused, taking a sip of my coffee. “But you know them. They wouldn’t let it go. They kept prying, trying to see if there were any ‘sparks’ between us.”

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