Page 50 of Call It Love

He smiled at the server behind the counter. “We’ll take two Reubens, please. And two slices of the lemon meringue pie.” He added water and chips to the order and turned to me.

Over my head, he waved to a few people, exchanging nods and easy smiles.

I knew how small-town life worked. Word would travel faster than a fly to honey that we were here together.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I said under my breath.

His brows drew together. “Why not?”

“I told you. People will associate the name Washington with yours now. They’ll talk.”

“Let them.”

“You’re not worried they’ll tie you to my husband and in-laws?”

Chase turned his full attention to me, his expression unapologetic. “Look, if they don’t know me well enough to trust my judgment—or knowyoufor who you are on yourown—then I don’t care about their opinionortheir business. I care aboutyou.”

Without waiting for a reply, he leaned in and brushed a kiss across my lips. Nothing flashy. Just simple and sincere.

“Let them talk aboutthat,” he said with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I saw such sincerity in his eyes that I couldn’t deny his reasoning. It had been a long time since I’d had someone who put me first.

“O…okay,” I stammered.

He nodded, seeming pleased that I believed him.

Our order was ready, and as we weaved our way toward the entrance, Chase paused to greet a couple near the window.

I hesitated, then followed his lead, offering a few polite smiles and quiet hellos to those around us. It started off as the mask I was familiar with wearing—the polished, practiced expression I used as Mason’s wife. But as a few people returned my smile, some hesitant, others kind, I felt the shift as my smile became less rehearsed. More mine.

Something loosened in my chest. I felt freer. Less fragile. And it felt good.Reallygood.

As we walked outside into the warm afternoon, the sunlight caressed my face. I was feeling lighter than I had in ages. Chase shifted our lunch and reached for my hand. His fingers laced with mine.

I looked up to thank him, but my attention was grabbed by a man across the street. He watched me with a hard, flat stare.

Chase immediately felt the shift in me. “What’s wrong?” He followed my gaze across the street, his eyes narrowing when they landed on the man. “Is that your father?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Let’s just ignore him.”

His jaw tightened, and I had a feeling Chase wanted to confront him.

I reached for his arm and tugged gently. “Please.”

His eyes softened as they turned to me. “If that’s what you want.”

We’d only taken two steps in the opposite direction when a voice stopped me.

“Anna?”

I whirled around, surprised to find my mother coming out of a store since she rarely came to town with her husband. A bag was hooked over her arm, and I caught a glimpse of fabric and yarn.

Memories came uninvited—curtains that brightened up the rooms, pillows that made it feel homier. I didn’t think there was anything my mother couldn’t sew. Clothes, too, although I didn’t appreciate them at the time. They never matched what the other girls were wearing, but looking back, there was love in every stitch.

“Hi, Mama,” I said, my voice quiet as if I might spook her.

She glanced across the street, and I half expected her to bolt. Instead, she stepped closer, her expression a mixture of surprise and something else—relief, maybe.

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