Page 32 of Honey Be Mine
In that moment, Rosemary felt grudging respect for Libby Owens. It took a lot of nerve to stand up to Willadeene Svoboda, even more to send the woman off in a huff—which was exactly what she’d done. As Willadeene brushed past their table, Rosemary caught sight of the fury on the older woman’s face. Chances were, Libby would regret publicly ruffling Willadeene’s feathers.
The excitement was over, and the low-level hum of conversation resumed.
“Okay, indecent skirt or not, she’s sort of a badass right now,” Nicole whispered.
Silas’s snort suggested otherwise. “She and Everett a thing now?” he asked.
From the way Libby was currently pressing a coffee cup into Everett’s hand—and standing ridiculously close—it would be easy to draw that conclusion. That Libby had offhandedly said Everett wasn’t sleeping well didn’t help, either. Rosemary nibbled on her lower lip.
“No. Everett’s got his eyes wide open.” Dane was quick to defend his best friend.
She wanted to agree with Dane, but...what if he was wrong?Not that Everett’s personal life is any of my business.If he was happy, that’s what mattered—even if the idea of Libby and Everett together did trigger every one of her internal warning alarms. And make her nauseous. And sad.
At the moment, Everett appeared confused. He glanced at the coffee cup in his hands, then Libby. He said something, set the coffee cup on the table, and took a big step away from Libby. And another. Libby seemed amused, her laugh light and airy as she shook her head and went back to cleaning up the refreshments table.
When Everett turned, his gaze scanned the crowd—a furrow on his brow. Next thing she knew, those brown eyes locked with hers, and he was heading directly toward her.
Seconds later, he was squatting by her chair. “Hey, Rosebud. I was hoping I’d see you.”
That’s nice.“Hey, yourself.” She resisted the urge to smooth his thick, too-long brown hair from his forehead. Up close, his exhaustion was evident. And concerning. “You survived Willadeene. Impressive.” She paused, attempting to tease. “Any internal bleeding? Bruises or breaks?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”
He had a nice face. A handsome face.Reallyhandsome. Had he always been so...looked so...like this? How had she not noticed that? She swallowed. “Happy with the turnout?”
“I am.” He yawned. “I’d be happier if all this wasn’t necessary. And if whoever is doing this would stop.”
“I think we all would.” She nodded, lowering her voice. “Are you okay? I know you’ve got a lot on your shoulders. Is there anything I can do?”
He stared at her for a long time—so long she found herself noticing all sorts of new and fascinating things about him. She’d never get long dark eyelashes like his, even with mascara. One of his eyes had a speck of gold in it. Brown and gold and tawny. His eyes were beautiful and warm. That was a good word for Everett. He was warm. And he smelled good. Astonishingly so.
She took a deep breath.
“I wanted to make sure we... Are we okay?” he whispered.
Were they okay? Yes. Was what she was currently feeling okay? She didn’t know. But, right now, he was tired and stressed and needed her reassurance. “We are great.”
“Good.” He took a slow breath, his posture easing.
“Not to interrupt you two, but you want me to find you a chair, Everett?” Dane asked. “Or are you going to sit on the floor?”
There were a few muffled snickers from around the table.
“No.” Everett stood. “As much as I’d like to stay at the cool kids table, I told Mayor Contreras I’d sit up front in case I needed to lend a hand.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot, Everett. Good practice for when you’re Mayor Taggert.” Nicole gave him a saucy grin. “A little birdie came by my shop and told me they heard you’re being prepped to run?”
Which was what Libby had told Rosemary. But was it true? It wasn’t that Rosemary didn’t want Everett to run for mayor—he’d be an amazing mayor—but if that was true, then the rest might be true, too. And she really wanted to know the truth.
Everett ran a hand over his face. “Let me figure out what day it is before I commit to doing something that important, how about?”
Which meant no? Didn’t it? Or was that just a dodge? It wasn’t an answer at all.
“Boo.” Nicole sighed. “I was going to make shirts with my Cricut machine.”
“I’ll let you know.” Everett shook his head. “But if I do run, Rosebud gets to design the shirts.” He pointed at her doodles. “She’s the artist.” He gave her shoulder a brief squeeze and headed to the front of the room.
Rosemary stared after him, oddly conflicted. Everett had always been her friend. He still was. But...he’d always been Everett. Not an incredibly handsome man with beautiful eyes who smelled so incredibly good. Now he was Everett, plus all those things—and she didn’t know what to do or think about it.
