Page 119 of Small Town Firsts

I trudge from my bedroom to the kitchen and fling my fridge open, reaching for the blue bottle of Riesling. It’s already uncorked, so I don’t bother with a bottle opener, instead pulling the stopper out with my teeth before guzzling two gulps straight from the bottle.

I’m moving in for my third swig when there’s a knock at my door. I check the time—seven on the dot. Guess Brock’s here. I recork the bottle and shove it back into the fridge. On the way to the door, I take one last fortifying breath before opening it and coming face-to-face with the man I love—who may not love me.

Momentarily, I’m struck speechless. I’ve seen Brock dressed up a thousand times growing up—from cotillion to school dances, but none of those moments hold a candle to now. I start at the bottom, taking in his shiny black dress shoes and tailored charcoal pants. His black button down is stretched snugly across his muscled chest, and his hair’s gelled back and away from his face. I gasp when I see his left eye—all swollen and black and blue, the only thing marring his otherwise perfect appearance.

“Oh, my God! Brock, are you okay?” I lift my hand to touch it but think better of it and let it fall back down to my side. “What happened?”

Brock shrugs off my concern. “No big deal, firecracker. I wasn’t paying attention and walked into someone’s backswing.”

I’m not sure if I believe him, but I decide to let it go. He moves closer to me and wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my neck. “I’ve missed you so much, Abby Jane. So fucking much.”

His warm breath tickles my neck, and I lean into him a little more. “I’ve missed you too.” He steps back from me and reaches out and fingers one of my curls. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. Shit’s gonna get better, I swear it.”

I smile widely at his proclamation. Maybe tonight will be exactly what we need to get back on track. “So, what’s for dinner?” I ask, giving him an out.

Brock links his arm with mine and guides me toward the elevator. “I made us reservations at The Colony Grill.”

My mouth waters. “Oh, I haven’t eaten there in forever!” We spend the drive there in a companionable silence, simply takingcomfort in one another’s presence. Brock pulls into the valet line and shifts his truck into park before exiting the vehicle. The attendant opens my door for me, but Brock waves him out of the way and helps me down himself.

We step into the restaurant, and I’m instantly hit with waves of nostalgia. Memories of Mother’s Day brunches and family dinners flit through my mind. I waste no time shutting that vault—now’s neither the time nor the place for an impromptu trip down memory lane.

“Good evening and welcome to The Colony Grill,” the hostess greets us. “Do y’all have reservations with us tonight?”

“We do,” Brock tells her. “Two under Larson.”

She frowns and taps around on her touchscreen for a few seconds. “Oh! Yes. There you are. Sorry, we have another—never mind. Not important. Your table is ready. If you’ll follow me?” She grabs two menus and fans her free hand out Vanna White style.

We trail behind her, weaving our way through the dimly lit space, passing patrons enjoying their romantic, candlelit dinners. She leads us back to a small, round table located in the middle of the dining room.

Ever the gentleman, Brock pulls out my chair for me before seating himself. “Harrison will be y’all’s server this evening, and he’ll be with y’all shortly. Thank you so much and have a great meal.” She places our menus on the table before turning and walking back the way she came.

Inexplicably, the fine hairs all over my body stand on end and the back of my neck and ears feel hot—you know, that feeling you get when you’re being watched. I quickly scan the room, but I don’t see any familiar faces.How odd.

“What sounds good to you, Abby Jane?” Brock asks, and it takes everything in me not to answer withyou.I’ve missed himso much, but my Spidey senses are tingling, telling me tonight might change everything—I can only hope it’s for the better.

Scanning the menu, I take my time replying. “I’m thinking the seafood risotto. I love scallops. You?”

I sweep the restaurant again. But still, nothing. “Mmm. That does sound good. Think I’m gonna get the shrimp and grits.”

Our server comes by to greet us, and we go ahead and place our order. Moments later, another server deposits a basket of rosemary rolls along with two plates. I help myself to one, sighing as the flavors burst across my tongue.

I move to get a second roll when my stomach clenches with nerves. Quietly, I excuse myself to the restroom. I desperately need to get a grip. All night, it’s felt as though someone has been watching me, but I’m pretty sure I’m just projecting my own paranoia about my relationship with Brock, and it’s making me fucking crazy.

Inside the restroom, I close myself into a stall, even though I don’t actually have togo.I just need a moment to breathe—a moment to get my emotions under control. After a few deep breaths, I’m ready to head back out to my table. As I’m opening the stall door, a beautiful, curvy blonde breezes in, setting up shop in front of the sink.

Not paying her much attention, I place my clutch on the countertop and turn on the faucet, lathering my hands, when the blonde turns to me. “Hello there, Abigail.”

I tilt my head to face her and suck in a breath through my teeth. “Amanda, right?”What are the fucking chances she’s here at the same time Brock and I are here?

“Oh, honey.” Amanda coos the words like I’m a child. “I simply cannot let this charade go on a moment longer.”

“Wh-what charade?”

She places her left hand across her heart and the shiny oval diamond she’s sporting glints in the mirror. “You and Brock.”

Her words and condescending tone sparks fury within me. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are?—”

Amanda cuts me off. “His future wife iswho the fuck I am,as you so crudely put it.” She wiggles her left hand in front of my face. “See this ring? It was his Mimi Jean’s. I know you think y’all have something, and goodness, maybe y’all do. But here’s the thing—he was promised to me. His daddy and my daddy made a deal a long time ago, and I’m not going to let your white-trash-fallen-from-grace-skank-ass ruin my future.”

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