Page 2 of Secret Southern Promises

“Are the nectarines ripe?” Mrs. Linda asked, cutting into my thoughts.

I nodded, gesturing to the bin. “Yep, they’re good to go.”

Just as I spoke, the bell above the door jingled again. I glanced at the clock—getting close to four o’clock. The after-school rush was about to start, and the store usually picked up around this time.

“Welcome to Magnolia Mart,” I called, though I didn’t bother looking up. I had banana boxes to drop off, so I headed to the back room. With the empty boxes out of the way, I made my way to the register, knowing I’d have to get ready for the small crowd that was bound to trickle in.

As predicted, a few more people wandered into the store. I smiled and greeted them out of habit, though I stayed behind the counter. I grabbed the latest issue ofPeoplemagazine from the stack we kept up front and began flipping through it. One of the perks of running Magnolia Mart was staying up to date on all the celebrity gossip without having to pay for it.

I thumbed through the pages, half-reading the headlines. Some movie star had gotten divorced. Again. Someone else was caught in a scandal. Typical Hollywood drama. I chuckled softly to myself, thinking how different the problems in that world were from what we dealt with in Magnolia Grove.

Here, scandal was more about who was dating whom and whether or not someone had stepped out of line at Sunday service. It was simpler, though, it didn’t always feel that way when you were the center of the gossip.

The bell jingled again, and I glanced up just in time to see two kids I recognized from Nash’s school walk in. I gave them a polite nod, but they didn’t seem too interested in chatting, which was fine by me.

I returned to my magazine, letting myself get lost in the celebrity drama for a while. It was a nice escape, even if it wasjust for a few minutes. There was something comforting about knowing that no matter how messy things got in my own life, someone out there in California was probably having a worse day than me.

The door chimed again, and I quickly tucked the magazine under the counter, putting on my practiced smile as I sensed someone approaching the register.

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt the blood drain from my face. It was like staring at a ghost—one I never thought I’d see again, not here. Not in Magnolia Grove.

He didn’t belong in this town anymore. He’d left years ago to become a famous bull rider. And now, here he was, looking older but just as rugged, his dark hair a little longer, his beard a shadow on his face. His eyes, though, were the same—sharp, intense, the kind of eyes that could pull you in and leave you wondering what the hell you were doing.

Boone West stood at the register and placed a case of beer and a loaf of bread on the conveyor belt.

Boone-freaking-West.

Chapter Two

Boone

I wasn’t an idiot.

I knew the second I pushed open those old wooden doors of Magnolia Mart I was walking straight into my past. And I knew my past had a name. Dolly Hanes. It had been years—hell, over a decade—but the memories of her were as clear as the day I left Magnolia Grove.

I couldn’t help but hesitate as the bell above the door jingled. The familiar scent of fresh pine cleaner hit me, and I was instantly transported back to all those afternoons I spent hanging around here, waiting for Dolly to finish up her shift. Magnolia Mart hadn’t changed much. The shelves might’ve been restocked with different brands, but the heart of it was the same. Same creaky floors, same lighting, and—if I wasn’t mistaken—the same damn aisle signs hanging from the ceiling.

But it wasn’t the store that had me caught up. It was the woman standing by the bananas, talking to Mrs. Linda like nothing had changed in the world. She hadn’t even noticed me walk in. Part of me wanted to just rip the damn bandage off, face her head-on, and get it over with. Instead, I found myself wandering down the nearest aisle like a coward, pretending to be interested in a jar of pickles I sure as hell wasn’t planning on buying.

I’d spent a lot of time in this place back in high school. Magnolia Mart was practically a second home. Dolly had always been stuck behind that register after school, and I would hang around, leaning on the counter, waiting for her to finish up. Everyone knew we were together, and everyone—hell, even me—thought we’d be married by the time we were twenty.

That hadn’t happened, though. A lot had happened. And none of it was what we’d planned.

I grabbed a case of beer and a loaf of bread—bachelor staples. I wasn’t in the mood to spend much time browsing. Truth be told, I was barely ready for this moment. But hell, there I was, standing in the middle of Magnolia Mart, facing down a memory I thought I’d tucked away years ago.

As I made my way to the register, I saw her again. Dolly. She was reading a magazine, completely unaware that I’d walked in. For a moment, I thought about just backing out and saving us both from the awkwardness that was about to follow, but then the bell above the door chimed, and it was too late.

She tossed the magazine under the counter and straightened up. Then she saw me.

Her jaw dropped open, and I swear, time stood still for a second.

She looked almost exactly like she did the last time I’d seen her our senior year. Long, wavy brown hair still tumbled down her back, streaked with those lighter shades of brown that always caught the light just right. Her eyes—big and brown—widened as she stared at me, and for a second, I felt like I was eighteen again, waiting outside the school for her to finish cheerleading practice.

Back then, Dolly had been the prettiest girl in Magnolia Grove. Every guy wanted her attention, but somehow, I was the one who had it. Time hadn’t changed that. She was still gorgeous, maybe even more so now, with the kind of elegance that came with growing older.

But right now? She was pale. Really pale, like she was looking at a ghost, which I suppose, in a way, she was. Fifteen years is a long time.

I set the beer and bread on the conveyor. “Hello, Dolly,” I drawled, trying to sound casual, even though my chest felt tight like I’d just been punched.

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