Page 27 of Secret Southern Promises

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head a little. “That’s a pretty big deal, Boone. When do you start?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t say yes or no yet. I need a little time to think about it.”

She nodded slowly, looked down at the water bottle in her hands, and fidgeted with the cap like she was processing what I’d just said. After a moment, she looked back up at me, herexpression a little more guarded. “You’d be traveling again, then?”

I nodded, taking another sip of beer. “Yeah, but nowhere near as much as I was when I was chasing points. The series runs from mid-July to mid-October, so it’s a short window. Right before the World Finals.”

Dolly nodded again, but I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was trying to find the right words, the right way to say what was on her mind. I could feel the tension between us, subtle but there. We hadn’t talked much about the future—not about her, not about me—and now, all of a sudden, there was this opportunity that would mean being away again before we figured out what was going on between the two of us. Granted, July was a ways off.

“Well,” she said slowly, her eyes on the bottle in her hands, “I don’t know much about the whole announcer thing, but that sounds like a pretty big opportunity.”

I watched her closely, wondering what she was really thinking. It wasn’t just the opportunity she was reacting to—I could see that much. It was the idea of me going back into that world, being on the road, away from Magnolia Grove. Away from her. Even if it wasn’t for long, it was still leaving.

“I’m not sure if it’s something I want yet,” I admitted, trying to gauge her reaction. “I didn’t expect this offer. Hell, I didn’t even know they were putting together a new series until Trevor called.”

She lifted her gaze to meet mine, her eyes searching my face. “Well, does it sound like something you’d want to do?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that. For so long, my life had been about one thing: rodeo. Everything I’d done, every choice I’d made, had been in service of that dream. But now? Now I was here, standing in a kitchen with the one woman I’d neverstopped thinking about, who was part of a different dream I had before I left for the rodeo.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly and rubbed the back of my neck. “I guess I’ve been so focused on getting back on my feet—literally—that I haven’t thought much about what comes next.”

Dolly nodded, her expression softening as she leaned back against the counter. “I get that. I mean, you’ve been through a lot. It makes sense that you wouldn’t have everything figured out yet.”

“Yeah, but this… this feels different,” I said, gesturing with the beer bottle. “It’s not like riding. It’s not about the rush or the adrenaline. It’s just… talking. It’s staying close to the sport without risking everything.”

She tilted her head, her eyes thoughtful. “And does that appeal to you? Being close to it without having to put your body through hell?”

I let out a breath, setting the beer down on the counter. “Yeah, it does. I guess a part of me still wants to be part of it, you know? Even if I’m not in the chute anymore.”

She smiled softly. “Well, from where I’m standing, it sounds like a good opportunity. But I get it if you need time to think about it. It’s a big change.”

I nodded, appreciating her understanding. “Yeah. I just don’t want to rush into something because it’s there. I want to make sure it’s what I really want.”

Dolly nodded, but there was something in her eyes, something she wasn’t saying. I wondered if it was the idea of me being away again, even for a short time. After all, we hadn’t really talked about what this thing between us was or where it was going. She had been the one to say we were friends.

That may be what she wanted, but I wanted a whole hell of a lot more than that.

But for now, I had to focus on one thing at a time. And right now, that was being able to make dinner.

“What’s next for dinner?” I asked and turned to Dolly, who looked a little surprised by my sudden enthusiasm.

“Oh, uh, well,” she said, recovering quickly. “We can get things ready for the chicken.”

The next few minutes, we moved around the kitchen together as she guided me through it, step by step. I poured oil into the pan, turned the burner to medium heat, and waited as the oil slowly came to temperature. It was simple, but it felt new to me, like learning how to ride all over again—except this time, it was about making sure I didn’t burn the damn chicken.

Half an hour later, the kitchen smelled like a home-cooked meal. The potatoes were baked perfectly, and the chicken was ready. The microwave dinged, signaling that the veggies were done. Dolly showed me how to cut open the steaming bag, dump them into a bowl, and add a dab of butter. It all came together like a small victory.

I looked down at the meal in front of us, feeling an odd sense of pride. Sure, Dolly had done most of the work, but I’d had a hand in it—no matter how small.

“This looks really good,” she said, giving me a smile that lit up her face.

I nodded, feeling a little more accomplished than I probably should have. “Looks more than good to me.” I grabbed two plates from the cabinet and handed one to her.

We each filled our plates and headed outside to the patio, where the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink. The air was warm, with a slight breeze, and it felt peaceful as we sat down at the outdoor table.

We ate, falling into easy conversation about Magnolia Grove—about the things that had changed and the things that hadstayed the same. There was something comforting about it, like slipping back into an old pair of boots. The conversation flowed naturally between us, and as the sun set, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit lighter.

When we finished, we gathered the plates and headed back into the kitchen, the soft glow of twilight following us inside.

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