Page 92 of Townshipped
“You don’t see them out here nearly freezing to death in the dark,” Shannon says with no weight to her tone.
We all find spots around the fire, drawing the edges of our blankets up around us to keep warm.
Jayme opens a thermos of cocoa and pulls out Styrofoam cups from her backpack. “I’ll be the only old maid in the group by the time we’re retired,” she states plainly as she pours out drinks for each of us. “I’m good with that, by the way. I’m going to rock the single old lady life.”
“I’ll be right there with you,” Shannon says. “Not sure I’ll rock it, though.”
“Well, I’m planning on being the cool auntie to all your kids, and I’ll eat what I want when I want, write a boatload of books every year, become wildly famous, and take yearly trips to exotic islands for secret flings that never amount to anything but fun. I’ll get rid of the cats by then and I’ll never wear a muumuu.”
Laura laughs. “You two will not be old maids.” Then, with a note of conviction, she says, “Even if you’re single, you’ll be more timeless than a little black dress and more sought after than Memaw’s cupcakes.”
“Thanks,” Jayme says. “Honestly, I can’t see wanting another man in my life. And it’s not only because my last boyfriend cheated. I know not all men cheat. I’m just … happy. Besides, who needs a man when I’ve got all of you?”
“Says the romance author,” Laura quips.
“Alien or shifter romance,” Jayme clarifies. “I fully support aliens and wolves in finding their fated mates. People are a whole other story.”
“I’ll take the black dress compliment,” Shannon says.
“I’m picturing a bunch of old men fighting over us like they fight over Memaw’s cupcakes,” Jayme says with a chuckle.
“There’s an image I could do without,” Shannon says with a shudder.
Laura leans over toward me. “Normally I’d be suggesting something wild like all of us shucking our clothes and jumping into the lake in our underwear. Maybe I’m going soft.”
“You’re not going soft, you’re growing up,” Shannon says from across the fire. “As fond as those memories are, I’m not really looking to freeze half to death tonight. Besides, we have to get Lexi back to Poppy in a few hours.”
“So there won’t be some wild initiation ritual?” I ask.
32
“EM”
“No initiation ritual,” Laura assures me. “You missed our wilder years. We definitely would have done something newsworthy back then.”
“And by newsworthy, she means worthy of the local bulletin, which gets posted in the town hall,” Lexi clarifies.
The firelight flickers between us. Eventually the conversation circles around to focus on me.
“So, you and Aiden?” Laura asks in a faux-innocent tone.
I picture the kiss he gave me, falling back onto the haystack with him when Billy Jean bumped me, and how right things usually feel between us. My heart rate kicks up thinking about sharing anything about Aiden here—especially anything about our kiss.
Lexi looks at me from across the fire. “There’s no pressure. We just want you to know Aiden’s not the only one here for you. You’re one of the girls now. If you need to talk, we’ll listen. If you want to keep things to yourself, we’ll honor that.”
Lexi gives the other three the same look that she gave them on girls’ night. Despite Lexi’s assurance, I’m pretty sure everyone’s eager for me to spill the details of my life at the farm.
Laura presses, as seems to be her style. She’s definitely the unspoken leader and the strongest personality in the group.
“Is it strictly platonic between you two? Or …?”
My face must tell a story of its own.
Jayme lets out a little squeal. “I knew it! I mean, who could be rescued by a handsome, single man who owns his own small farm and not swoon a little in adulation?”
“Adulation,” Shannon deadpans.
“Adulation. Noun. Obsequious flattery; excessive admiration or praise.”
