Page 51 of With This Ring

“Thanks.”

Hudson followed her back to the kitchen and picked up his grocery bag. When her phone dinged with a text, he glanced down on the counter and caught a glimpse of it.

Parker:Looking forward to seeing you again tonight.

He did his best to swallow back a bite of jealousy and force his lips to curl up. “Did you want any of this banana bread?”

“No, thanks.” Her genuine smile had disappeared, and her guarded, forced demeanor was back. “Thanks for your help, Hud.”

She traipsed with him to the door, where he bent to give the cat a quick rub.

“Good night,” he told her.

“Night.”

His heart sank on his way back to the colonial. It was obvious that she had a boyfriend, and Hudson felt like a jerk for allowing himself to believe that he and Dakota might’ve had a chance to become friends again.

He entered the house and headed for the kitchen to cut himself a piece of banana bread for supper. He pulled out a plate and knife and let the truth fill his mind: Between the issues with his sister and his ridiculous feelings for Dakota, staying in Flowering Grove was clearly bad for his heart and his health. He had to get out of town as soon as he could.

***

“The first night we opened the rink, we ran out of pizza in less than an hour.” Brice grinned at his wife beside him. “We really underestimated the crowd.”

Kayleigh chuckled. “The rink had been closed for more than a year when we bought it, and we just knew we’d have to work to get customers. But it seemed like people really missed it!”

Parker, sitting beside Dakota, looked riveted. “That’s fantastic. So you never worried about the rink generating enough business?”

Brice scoffed. “Oh, we worried plenty,” he began before launching into another story about the rink.

They decided to take advantage of the unusually warm March weather and sit at Dakota’s patio table later that evening. Dakota struggled to keep her focus on the conversation. Instead, her thoughts swam as she picked at her piece of lasagna.

She’d felt out of sorts ever since the afternoon run-in with Hudson. She’d been shocked when he appeared at her side out of thin air, ready to help her with her groceries. He’d been dressed in worn jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, as if he’d spent the day working outside somewhere—and his few days’ worth of scruff made it difficult for her to take her eyes off him.

Having him in her house felt strange at first, but then she’d relaxed. It had been natural to reminisce, but the most unsettling part had been when she’d felt her heart coming back to life around him.

For one eerie moment, she’d considered canceling her double date and instead inviting Hudson to stay for dinner and talk all night. She yearned to not only talk about the good times but also ask him where things had gone wrong. They’d been happy—she was sure of it—before he made a choice and left her behind.

And that was the moment when she realized she had to get Hudson out of her house. Her heart and her brain melted into mush around him. It was best that she avoid him. And besides, she had to get ready for her company.

Yet here she was now with her guests, thinking about Hudson while Parker sat beside her, ready and willing to be the kind, steady, loyal, and dependable man she craved.

She needed to have her head examined.

“Dakota?”

“Huh?” Her head snapped up, and she felt all eyes around the table focused on her.

Kayleigh looked at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” She leaned back in her chair. “I just have a lot on my mind.” She could almost hear Kayleigh’s unspoken questions from across the table, but she took a drink from her glass of water and averted her eyes.

“How are things at your store?” Parker asked.

“Good.” She nodded. “I had a bride with a large bridal party come in to order fourteen bridesmaids’ gowns, plus a flower girl dress and ring bearer tuxedo. Oh, and another seventeen tuxedos for the groomsmen and the fathers.”

Brice laughed. “Whoa. That trumps our little wedding with our two attendants, huh, Kay?”

“Definitely.” Kayleigh grinned. “Is this the woman with her butter-yellow obsession?”