Page 9 of Small Town Sash

"Well, I suppose it's some consolation to know that you will be out there secretly rooting for me."

"And Dash will be along sometimes, too," Braden told her.

"Dash?" Hadley raised an eyebrow in question.

"My K9 partner," he replied with a nonchalant shrug as though it was perfectly normal to bring up dogs in such a conversation. "He's at the vet getting his annual check-up right now, but he'll be at the next practice."

Hadley laughed again, this time more freely. "Well, as long as he's not judging the talent portion," she teased.

"You'd win that easy peasy," Braden paid her a genuine compliment.

A blush spread across her cheeks. "You don't even know what my talent is."

"I'm sure it's impressive. Everything about you is."

"Well, thank you," she said with a warm smile, appreciating his apparent fondness for her. "So that means I'm..."

"Contestant number...?" he prompted.

"Seven." A blush crept up her neck. Somehow sharing her contestant number felt more intimate than she'd expected.

"Seven," he repeated. "Lucky number."

"Is it?" She quirked an eyebrow, playing along.

"Absolutely." He nodded solemnly. "Lucky for me, anyhow. Gets me a front-row seat to watch you do your thing."

"Flatterer." She couldn't help the warmth that spread through her at the compliment.

"Truth-teller," he corrected gently. "You've got the whole package, Hadley. It's not just about being pretty."

"Thanks," she murmured her words barely above the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Flattery was part of the pageant game, but from him, it felt different—genuine.

"Anytime." He flashed her a smile that could disarm armies. "And hey, if you need tips on impressing the judges..."

"Are you offering insider info?" She teased, a playful spark in her blue eyes.

"Maybe." His brown eyes danced with mischief. "But only if you promise not to use it against me."

"Deal," she laughed, the sound light and unburdened. For a moment, the weight of expectations lifted. Hadley could feel the pull of his presence like a magnet, but a nagging voice in her head piped up, reminding her of the invisible line drawn between them by his role as a judge.

"Being on the panel...it must be interesting," Hadley said, steering the conversation into safer waters.

"Definitely beats paperwork and early morning drills," he snickered. "But it's not all about judging. It's about recognizing potential."

She nodded, though the irony wasn't lost on her. Here she was, trying to prove she was more than just a pretty face, yet she had to impress people like him to do it.

"Right. Potential," she echoed, her tone light but her insides churning with conflict.

"Hey, don't let it get to you," he said, catching the edge in her voice. "Just be yourself out there."

"Easy for you to say." She gave a rueful smile. "You're not the one being scored."

"True," he conceded, "but I have been under scrutiny before. Trust me, sincerity is your best strategy."

"Thanks, Coach," she nudged him playfully, trying to ignore how natural it felt to banter with him.

"Anytime." He nudged back, then paused, looking at her with an intensity that made her heart skip. "Hadley, I?—"

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