Page 118 of Love in Riverbend
Rolling my lip between my teeth, I think about the one kiss. Lifting my eyes, I meet Marilyn’s gaze. “I don’t know what it will be like when we see one another.”
“Maybe you will fall into one another’s arms and live happily ever after.”
I laugh. “That’s not where I’m placing my bet.”
“What’s your bet?”
“I’m leaning toward awkward silence.”
Marilyn wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Someone is going to figure out what a wonderful catch you are. Who knows? It might be Justin Sheers.”
That isn’t a thought I can even consider.
“Just one kiss,” I say.
I wake the next morning to the buzzing of my phone. Groggily, I lift the screen and squint at the light pouring in my bedroom window. With the drapes packed, the mini blinds don’t do a great job of blocking the sunlight.
The text is from Dad.
* * *
“ON OUR WAY. ART WAS CALLED INTO WORK. LUCKILY, RICKY TALKED JUSTIN SHEERS INTO HELPING. DO YOU REMEMBER HIM?”
* * *
Yeah, Dad. I definitely remember him.
He doesn’t remember me.
My mouth goes dry as I look at the time of the text message. It was sent twenty minutes ago. That means I have about two and a half hours to come up with a disguise. Maybe a wig and a fake mustache.
Then I see a more recent text from my mom.
* * *
“YOUR ROOM IS DONE. I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO SEE THE COLOR. I HAVE THE WINDOWS OPEN SO YOU CAN STILL SLEEP IN THERE TONIGHT.”
* * *
That makes me laugh. When she told me she wanted to paint my room, I thought of what my best friends had said. It seems that we Dunns are nothing if not predictable. Well, not entirely. Throwing the blanket off me, I fling open my bedroom door, and rush across the hallway to Marilyn’s room.
Bursting in, the door bounces off the wall.
“What’s the emergency?” she mumbles.
“You have to help. I’m in so much trouble,” I announce.
Rushing to my aid, Marilyn buries her face in her pillow.
Chapter 9
Justin
Jack Dunn hands me a cup of coffee, lifting it to me in the back seat of his super-cab truck. The truck is about as old as mine, and in equally good shape. “Here you go.” He meets my gaze. “Thanks again for helping us out.”
I look back at the moving trailer we’re pulling.
“What else could I be doing on a Sunday morning?” I say before taking the lid off the coffee. The steam and rich aroma swirl into the air.
