Page 112 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

I do send him a kissing selfie, though.

"Did you send that to Rusty?" Lou asks as she comes into my office.

I drop my phone. "No."

"Liar," she says in her twangy Georgia accent. She sits in a chair across from my desk, opens the lid to my gummy jar, and tosses a handful in her mouth. "How did yesterday go?"

"It was amazing. We worked all day, went back to his place and he made me dinner. He referred to Pookie as 'our dog.' And he sort of confessed that he loves me, and then we got ice cream?—"

"HE SAID HE LOVES YOU?" Lou almost screams. "Atta boy, Rusty! I need details."

I tell her every word, every heavy confession, every kiss … okay, not every kiss, because that would be way too much detail. But I tell her that we made out until my face was raw, and she giggles like a schoolgirl.

"And everything kept going so perfectly until," I spit his name, "Arlo."

I give her the rundown, and she looks enraged. "He is evil!"

"I know. And everything changed after that. Arlo's timing couldn't have been worse. He was so mean and ugly, Lou. Rusty hugged me when he dropped me off, but he didn't say anything. It's like he couldn't. He just held me, and then kissed me and left without a word. It broke my heart."

"Poor Rusty," she says.

"I know."

"Poor Ash," she adds.

"No, I'll be fine. He's allowed to have feelings he needs to process. When he's ready, I'll be there."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

A few hours later, I'm questioning the truth of my words, though. Rusty still hasn't responded. I know he's busy, but it's never taken him so long to answer one of my texts. I send him another message saying the Janes and I are going to drop by the businesses on Maple Street and I put my phone away.

A minute later, my watch vibrates, and I look at Rusty's texts.

He's given my message a thumbs up.

And he's "hearted" the smoochy-face picture.

Freaking Arlo.

The Janes and I go from business to business, and we have to wait in line to speak to each owner. Everyone who was already enthusiastic about our plan remains enthusiastic, and we pick up a handful of converts. It's not like the votes have to remain a secret, but I get the feeling some people want to give us extra incentive to keep them even busier.

Sonny posted his video Saturday, and it already has several million views. It’s less than half of what Lou's has, but it's still making an impact. Even though he's retired from football, there are more people than ever walking around town wearing his number.

"I take back all my support," Duke says when he and Lottie come by the office to pick up Millie. "Sugar Maple wears number eight."

"The whole town doesn't have to wear your jersey," Millie says, "as long as the right people do."

She kisses him and Lottie giggles as they leave. "Daddy and Mommy are in loooove."

By the end of the day, I normally have a second wind, but my enthusiasm for work is gone. I can't stop wondering how Rusty is doing. Last night was huge, and Arlo derailed us in the most vicious possible way. I want to go to Rusty’s house and make him dinner, but he's not answering my texts, and I don't want to be pushy. It's been a day, not a week, and he has plenty to keep him busy.

That doesn't mean I'm happy about it, though.

Lou calls the diner and asks Tia to set aside a table for us. She agrees, even though they're slammed. We walk over and sit at a table near the back of the restaurant. The Chicks find us while we're sipping on our drinks and waiting for our order.

"If it isn't the woman of the hour," Chick Hanks says.

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