Page 42 of Clumsy in Love

He wandered into Jen’s kitchen to find Holly making potato salad.

“Morning.” She looked up at him. “Don’t you have anything red or blue to wear?”

“I guess I could see what else I have,” he said, frowning at his T-shirt. “What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s green. Also, pack a swimsuit.”

“I’m not on vacation, Holly. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“I’m sure I’ve got something you could borrow,” Jen said. “My husband, God rest his soul, was a little bigger than you, but you can use the ties to cinch up the waist.”

The way Holly smiled into her hand made Cole uneasy, but he didn’t want to be rude. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

Jen returned a few minutes later and handed him a small tent covered in bright yellow palm trees. Only, it wasn’t a tent. It was a pair of swim trunks that he guessed were three times his size. He met Holly’s eyes, but she just pressed her lips together andshrugged. He couldn’t refuse them now, so he shoved them into his bag.

Holly was packing a cooler with water and beer by the back door.

“Need any help?” He’d asked it a lot over the last few days, but Holly was tall, strong, and independent.

“Nah,” she said. “I got it.” She hoisted the cooler and grunted.

“Give me that,” he said. “You’re gonna break your back.”

“Fine.” She handed it over, andhealmost grunted. It weighed about a hundred pounds. And they hadn’t even put ice in it yet.

They loaded the truck with two coolers, a picnic basket, camp chairs, blankets and bowls, food, and a leash for Lady. Jen had her own holiday plans.

“Crap,” Holly said. “I forgot something at my place yesterday. We’ll have to make a quick stop.”

“We took everything not nailed down. What else could you need?”

“My jersey.”

“Gonna play some hoops?”

“There is a three-on-three tournament, but I didn’t sign up this year. It’s for the parade.” He thought he caught her blush.

“Explain.”

“You know how my team won the state championship?” He nodded, and she shrugged. “Even though it’s been a few years, the town makes it a big deal. We ride behind this year’s varsity team.”

“That’s going to be a security nightmare.”

“If you’re picturing a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade monstrosity, you’re grossly overestimating our little cavalcade ofCub Scouts and junior high marching bands. I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Still. You’ll be a sitting duck.”

“Cruz wouldn’t shoot me in front of hundreds of people! He’d never get away with it.”

“Maybe not. But he could identify you and then be able to follow you. It’s risky.”

“Look, if you can get me out of it, I’m game,” she said. “But just in case, I need that jersey.”

He still wasn’t on board with the idea but didn’t object when she stopped by her place and ran in.

“Holy camoly,” he said when they hit Main Street. The holiday decorations had multiplied exponentially since the last time they’d come to town.

Every business awning, front door, and lamppost had something red, white, and/or blue draped over, tied to, or hanging from it. American flags flew from each streetlight. The town square park’s gazebo was dressed in patriotic bunting. Red, white, and blue stars hung from the ceiling, and bouquets of balloons surrounded it. Fourth of July themed tablecloths covered a few dozen picnic tables, and a large temporary stage had been erected at one end of the park.

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