Secret Southern Promises (Magnolia Grove #10)

Chapter Nine

Dolly

“Mom.”

Nash’s voice snapped me out of my daze. I blinked, turning my attention from the counter where I’d been mindlessly wiping down the already clean surface.

“Yeah?” I called back.

“Can you do it?”

I frowned, trying to catch up. “Do what, honey?”

He rolled his eyes, like he couldn’t believe I didn’t know what he was talking about, and shoved a crumpled piece of paper into my hands. “Make some pies for the pie auction. All the money goes to getting new books for the library.”

I glanced down at the flyer. Apparently, the freshman class had come up with this whole fundraising idea to raise money for the community. And Nash, my too-cool-for-this-son, was actually involved in it. I skimmed the details about the auction—pies for the highest bidder, all proceeds going to the library’s new books fund.

“This is really cool,” I said, glancing up at him.

He shrugged. “As long as they don’t spend it all on Shakespeare books, I’ll be good.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Hamlet is traumatizing you, isn’t it?”

Nash gave me a long-suffering look. “It’s just so confusing. Once the teacher explains it, I get it. I just don’t know why the dude had to talk the way he did.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “The dude is Shakespeare,” I corrected him, “and that’s just how people talked back then.”

Nash groaned. “Yeah, well, no wonder no one could understand each other. Why couldn’t he just say, ‘My uncle’s a jerk and my mom’s lost her mind’? Would’ve saved us all a lot of time.”

I laughed harder, picturing Shakespeare in jeans and a T-shirt, jotting down modern translations of his plays. “Maybe you should rewrite it. ‘Hamlet: The CliffNotes Edition, by Nash.’”

He shot me a grin but quickly schooled his expression back into teenage indifference. “So, do you think you can make some pies for the auction? I’m sure if you make your mile-high apple pie, people will pay big bucks for it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “My mile-high apple pie, huh?” I wasn’t sure it was as big of a deal as he made it sound. “I’ll make that one, sure, but maybe I’ll throw in a few others. How about a quiche? Not everyone wants something sweet.”

Nash gave me a deadpan look. “Yeah, sure. Old people love quiche.”

I rolled my eyes right back at him. “You like quiche,” I pointed out, trying not to laugh.

“Only because you’re old and make it for me.”

I gasped, putting a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Old? Me? Nash, honey, I’m in my prime. I could still run circles around you.”

He smirked, crossing his arms. “Maybe, if those circles are around the kitchen.”

I gave him a playful shove. “Hey, watch it, kid. You wouldn’t last two minutes doing what I do around here.”

“Please, I could run the store in my sleep.”

I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest. “Is that so? You know where everything is? How to deal with old Mr. Hankins when he starts ranting about how things were better ‘back in the day’?”

Nash grinned. “I just nod and agree with him. That’s what you do.”

I had to laugh because, honestly, he wasn’t wrong. “Okay, maybe you’ve picked up a few tricks. But could you make a mile-high apple pie? Without setting the kitchen on fire?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I’ve seen you make it a hundred times. How hard could it be?”

“Famous last words,” I muttered, shaking my head. “But fine, I’ll make a couple pies for the auction. One of them will even be a quiche, for all the old people in town.” I shot him a look, but he just grinned.

“Thanks, Mom. I knew you’d come through.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” I said, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I know.” He rolled his eyes but leaned into the gesture just enough that I knew he meant it.

Nash grabbed his backpack off the counter and headed toward the door. “I’ll let Mr. Barnes know you’re in for the pie auction.”

“Wait, is that the same Mr. Barnes who tried to set fire to the science lab last year during the chemical experiment?” I called after him, narrowing my eyes.

Nash paused halfway out the door, shooting me that familiar grin of his. “Yeah, he was a crap science teacher, but I’m pretty sure he’s got the library thing under control. He hasn’t set it on fire yet this year.”

“That’s probably for the best,” I replied, raising an eyebrow. The thought of Mr. Barnes having anything to do with open flames wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I’ll see you after school. I’m going to lift weights for a bit. Is that okay?”

I nodded, knowing he liked to squeeze in some time at the gym before heading over to the store. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just be at the store by four-thirty. There are a bunch of boxes that need to be broken down.”

Nash let out a long, dramatic sigh but nodded. “Fine. Do you think I could put up a flier for the pie auction while I’m at it?”

“Sure can,” I said, glancing down at the crumpled paper he’d handed me earlier. “Maybe grab one that isn’t wrinkled to death first.”

He smirked, knowing full well the state of the flier was his fault. “Later, Mom,” he called, heading out the door.

“Love you,” I called after him.

He waved a hand without looking back, acknowledgment enough for him, and then he was off, heading toward school with his usual easy stride.

I stood there for a moment, reading over the flier again. Four weeks. That’s how long I had to get a solid game plan together before the auction. Plenty of time, but knowing myself, I’d start early. My pies weren’t going to bake themselves, and if Nash had convinced himself I could bring in big bucks with my mile-high apple pie, I wasn’t about to let him down.

But that was for later. Right now, I had the morning to myself since Seth and Marvin had already opened up the store. I didn’t need to head in until lunchtime.

I decided to make myself some breakfast—nothing fancy, just eggs and toast. I grabbed a couple of eggs from the fridge, cracked them into the pan, and watched the yolks sizzle as I tossed some bread in the toaster. The kitchen filled with the comforting scent of breakfast cooking, and I couldn’t help but smile. Mornings like these were my favorite. Quiet, slow, with just enough time to sit and think before the day really got going.

Once the eggs were done and the toast popped up, I set my plate on the table and poured myself a cup of coffee. I’d just sat down when my phone buzzed on the counter. I reached over and saw Lindsay’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey,” I called into the phone after putting it on speaker. “What’s up?”

“Hey!” Lindsay’s voice rang out, full of energy as always. “Are you working?”

“Nope, not until later. I’m just sitting down to eat breakfast.”

“Good, good,” she said, her tone shifting to one of curiosity. “I need to know what’s been going on there.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what she was fishing for. “Not much, honestly.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. You haven’t called me in a few days, so I’m not buying that. What’s going on with the Boone front?”

I sighed, knowing there was no dodging her question. “Well, if you must know, Sam and Renee came into the store the other day.”

Lindsay made a noise of disgust. “Ugh, those two? They’ve always been jerks.”

“Tell me about it. So, they’re standing by the register, pretending like I can’t hear them, and they start talking about Boone being back in town.”

“And?” Lindsay pressed, clearly waiting for the good part.

“And they didn’t have anything nice to say about me, that’s for sure,” I replied with a wry smile. “They called me ‘Molly’—on purpose, mind you—and asked if I’d heard Boone was back. Then they started hinting around about whether we’d rekindled anything.”

“What a couple of vultures,” Lindsay said, her voice full of indignation. “So what did you say?”

“I told them I’d seen Boone a few days ago, which was true, but then I shut it down. Told them I was too busy with the store and Nash to be worrying about old flames.” I paused, taking a sip of my coffee. “But you know them. They wouldn’t let it go. They kept prying, trying to see if there were any ‘sparks’ between us.”

Lindsay let out a loud scoff. “As if it’s any of their business! And besides, didn’t you tell them you were over Boone years ago?”

“I thought I was,” I admitted, glancing down at my plate. “But then Boone walked into the store yesterday.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Lindsay’s voice came back, sharper this time. “Wait, Boone came into Magnolia Mart again?”

“Yep,” I said, already knowing where this was going.

“And?” she pressed.

“And he bought some groceries.”

“Girl,” Lindsay drawled. “You know I am going to need a play-by-play of what happened.”

I sighed and picked at the eggs on my plate. “Uh, well, he bought stuff and said he needed to figure out how to cook. I told him he’d either figure it out or ask someone for help. Then he suggested me and mentioned Mama’s ham salad. I told him TV dinners would be on sale next week if he couldn’t figure out how to cook.”

Lindsay let out a dramatic gasp. “Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Back it up to where he said y ou could be the one to teach him how to cook.”

I rolled my eyes and took a bite of the eggs. “He didn’t mean anything by it, Lindsay.”

“Uh, why would you say that? Did he say he didn’t mean anything by it, or are you just downplaying the fact that the man was totally hitting on you?”

“Boone did not hit on me.”

“Yeah, he did,” she insisted, her voice smug through the phone.

“You weren’t even there,” I retorted. “He did not hit on me. He’s just desperate to figure out how to cook.”

“And out of all the people in Magnolia Grove, he wanted you to help him. He didn’t ask Sam or Renee, did he?”

I wrinkled my nose at the thought. “God, no. I think I might puke if Boone dated either one of them.” Not that it should matter to me.

Lindsay laughed. “The man was hitting on you, Dolly. And he rightfully should. You broke his heart all those years ago, and now he’s back to make you his.”

“Wrong,” I said, dragging out the word. “He’s back because he got hurt. That’s it.”

“Yeah, but why Magnolia Grove? He could have gone anywhere, Dolly. Why here?”

That was a good question, one I didn’t have an answer to. Boone could have picked anywhere in the world, but he chose to come back to this small town. “I guess he still thinks of it as home.”

“Mm-hmm,” Lindsay hummed, clearly amused.

I narrowed my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me. “What does that ‘mm-hmm’ mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a thought popped in my head.”

“And what is that thought, Lindsay?” I asked, already feeling a headache coming on.

“Oh, nothing you need to worry about right now.” She cleared her throat quickly, dodging my question. “Oh, look at the time. I need to finish getting ready for work. Call me later, okay?” she said, her tone rushed.

I sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to give me a straight answer anytime soon. “Fine. Talk to you later,” I agreed and hung up the phone.

I looked down at my now-cold breakfast and sighed again, pushing the plate aside. The idea of eating had lost its appeal.

Boone West had not flirted with me. No way. He was just trying to learn how to cook, nothing more.

But, as much as I tried to convince myself of that, a small part of me couldn’t shake the thought that Lindsay might be right. Why had Boone come back to Magnolia Grove after all this time? Of all the places he could have gone, why here?

I didn’t want to dwell on it, but the questions kept circling in my mind. More than anything, I was worried about him finding out about Nash. I had spent so many years keeping that secret buried deep, and Boone coming back now was stirring everything up.

The last thing I needed was for Boone to be hitting on me on top of it all.

Nope.