Page 1 of Please, Sir

PROLOGUE

Three Months Ago

Dirt and dust rise up, engulfing Leah’s white BMV as she shifts into park. Peering through the windshield, I survey the scene; two homes separated by just a few hundred yards, and behind them, miles and miles of green pasture. “We’re here?”

Leah pops open a metal tin full of mints, offering me one. “We are here,” she announces with a sigh, plopping a wintergreen Altoid onto her tongue. “There’s a parkinglot around the back of that house, behind that barn,” she says, wiggling her long french manicured nail in front of me. I follow her finger to a barn, and glean a few cars tucked behind it off in the distance.

“Why didn’t we park there?” I question, slipping my feet back into my uncomfortable espadrilles. They’re adorable, with classic esparto rope wedges, and the most charming buttery yellow and white polka dot fabric pattern. Perfect for summer, perfect for the white pintuck sundress I have on, and perfect for a first impression. But the devil made these sandals, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Tying them off one ankle at a time, I’m careful to make sure the tied bow detail is perfect. After all, the bow is part of the reason why I’m willing to tango with Satan for three hours wearing these–it’s so cute.

“I don’t like parking where everyone else does. It never fails, some parent catches me when I’m ten paces from the car, and has a huge story they need to tell me about how the education system isn’t helping little Timmy or Sandy.”

I arch a brow. “Little Timmy?”

She waves a hand down between us before fishing in her bag for lipstick. “You get what I’m saying. Every time I leave one of these things with a box of fudge and a quart of milk with nothing but plans to wear sweats, bingeThe Bachelorand shove my face full, someone manages to stop me. And I’ll tell you what, I have three episodes ofThe Bachelorwaiting and Dolores made rocky road fudge today. I’m getting my me-time, damnit.” She rolls up the tube of rouge and drags it over her lips. “And if Hudson asks, I’ll blame it on you. I’ll say you’re new and didn't know where to park.”

“Gee, thanks,” I tell her, unclipping my seatbelt. After running my fingers through my hair and checking my teethand nostrils in the flip down mirror one last time, Leah and I finally get out of the car.

“So the whole town really comes to this thing?” I ask as we head toward the quaint farmers market on the other side of the house. “And Hudson, he’s the guy who runs it?”

Leah lets me take her arm as I navigate the gravel ground in my wedges. “Yeah, Hudson runs it. He moved here some ten years ago maybe? Anyway, you came from Willowdale, you know small towns love farmers markets. He really does a good job making people want to come, and stay. Before he moved here, Bluebell wasn’t as tight as it is now. His farmers market has been one of the greatest things for our town.”

I’m not looking to date, but I’m not looking not to date either. “Hudson, huh?” I waggle my brows as we traipse along, hitting the edge of the grass onlyaftermy espadrilles take the brunt of the dirt. I pause, lifting one ankle to swipe at the fabric.

Leah catches me by the arm before I lose my balance and show Bluebell my undies. “Don’t even joke,” she warns, her voice suddenly serious. I met Leah only two years ago, when she came to Willowdale for a district meeting. I helped her take her stuff to the car, and after seeing the Outlander decal on her back window, we’ve been friends ever since. Yet I’ve never seen her face go stern so quickly, or heard her voice pitch into despair like this. “Riley, I’m serious, do not even joke about thinking Hudson is handsome or cute oranything.” She slices her hand down like a guillotine with serious finality.

With her supporting my bodyweight, I take the opportunity to dust off the other sandal, relieved to see the dirt comes off pretty well. “I guess this is why country people wear boots, hmm?” I say as I flick the last bit of gravel from the esparto detail.

“Don’t change the subject. Tell me you understand,” Leah says, taking me by the shoulders, pinning me to the lawn with her intense gaze. Actually, it’s not as much of an intense gaze as it is an absolutely terrifying eye-mauling stare.

I put my hands on hers, gripping me. “Leah, I don’t even know what the man looks like. I was just kind of joking, okay?”

Her eyes search mine, and it’s then my gaze drops to her chest, where I notice she’s breathing hard. My brows scrunch. “Leah, what is happening right now? You are being… I’m concerned.”

“I’m concerned for you if you don’t stop that talk right this second,” Leah whispers, her words a paranoid hiss. “Hudson is married, you got it?”

I tip my head to the side and bring my hands to my hips, shirking hers off of me. “Do you really think I’d mess with a married man? I’m a little offended.”

Leah runs her hands through her hair, adjusting her purse on her shoulder, still planted in the grass. I nod toward the white tents. “No Hudson, Jesus, I got it. Now are we gonna go?”

She glances toward the distant commotion under the tents and looks back at me. “His wife is very possessive, very… territorial. And no, I don’t think you’d date a married man or even have a crush on one but what I’m saying is, avoid being anything but barely friendly with Hudson. At all costs.”

Leah loops her arm through mine and we trudge toward the tents, all while I promise to barely tip my head at this Hudson guy. To be honest, I didn’t really care much before but now I’m dying to meet him and this possessive wife of his.

The nearer we get, the scene fills in. Around us arehow ya beens andhow’s your moms, gracious laughter and light music,with kids racing between the legs of grown ups. People are everywhere, smiling and happy as a soft breeze moves through the trees, making them sway and dance, keeping the end of the fall heat away. Gravel crunches, a balloon pops, and somewhere, a baby cries. The commotion bleeds into every inch of the market, and I fall in love with the town right then and there.

Being a part of a family-like community is something I’ve found myself longing for in recent months. Having people know you, support you, love you, and are happy to see you? Maybe that’s more than some people want from townspeople, but that’s what I want. That’s what Ineed. Leah was right–Bluebell really will be a good fit for me if this market is any representation of the town.

“I love it here,” I breathe out, my words riding a dreamy sigh as I slowly absorb it all, from the adorable weathered woman running the fudge stand, to the little girls doing sand art at a booth near the churros. Families drift from table to table, old women chat, men laugh, there’s cider and beer stands, and so much going on.

But everyone, no matter what, is wearing a smile.

I like that. Ineedthat.

“It’s pretty great,” Leah says, just as a tall, strong man wearing a faded cowboy hat and filthy blue jeans saunters up. He tugs the hat off his head, revealing a mess of sweaty chestnut hair and fishing a large, dirt-laden hand through it before dipping his head in greeting to Leah and myself.

“Leah, good to see you. This must be Miss Rivers? The new addition to the Bruiser crew.” He smiles, gorgeous and toothy, his dark beard likely hiding a perfectly chiseled jaw. Leah introduces me right as my eyes fall to his neck, taking in large purplish-pink circles on his throat that disappear below the hem of his t-shirt.Hickies. This man is covered in hickiesand… are those teeth marks? My Lord in Heaven, thoseareteeth marks.

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