Page 47 of The Right Stuff









Chapter Eleven

Nash

IRONWING IS AWFULLYdead for a Friday.

Is it a holiday I don’t know about? Something catches my notice outside and it’s...a woman pacing the sidewalk outside the bar again.

Tru? I want to know what she’s doing, but I also just want to watch her for a minute. I didn’t get my fill of looking at her on Monday, and seeing her here, in Brazen Bay, in front of Ironwing, makes my nerves hum.

I rub my now sweaty palms on my jeans and open the door. “Are you protesting something? I knew I should have made a sandwich board for you that day.”

A flush creeps into her cheeks. She’s so pretty it’s impossible to be real. “I’m working up my nerve.”

“And how is that going?”

“Not great.”

“You look great, Gertrude. Really, you look amazing.”

She moistens her lips and darts a shy sideways glance at me. “Thank you. And thank you for coming to the arraignment. It meant a lot to see you there.”

My hands are itching to hold her. Grab her. Maybe throw her over my shoulder and bring her home where she belongs. But just because I’ve figured out what I want, what I need, doesn’t mean I get to have it.

“Are you coming in?”

“Is everyone already in there?”

“Everyone?” That’s when I see the sign on the door readingClosed for private party. It all becomes a little more clear to me. Why Stella was standing in front of the door earlier right after my dad walked out. The whispers. Damn meddling town.

Tru steps into the dark, quiet pub. “I don’t understand. Dixie told me the party was tonight. Pauline told me she’d catch up with me. Did they...they set us up?”

“Looks like it.” I spend about five minutes asking her inane questions just to keep her here. Keep her talking. When she asks me how my baseball team is doing, I know we’ve taken small talk too far.

“I should go.”

“No, wait. I, ah, I need your help with something.”

“All right.”

“I need your help planning an engagement party.”