Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology

Home > Other > Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology > Page 83
Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology Page 83

by Zoe York


  “So. Really engaged,” she said, desperate to lighten the mood.

  “Looks like.”

  “Well, I definitely didn’t expect that when I left the house this morning. I didn’t even catch my cousin’s bouquet.”

  “Second thoughts already?” His tone was wry and joking, but there was something else beneath it. Regret? A sense that this whole scenario was too good to be true?

  “No.” Realizing she’d sounded less than convincing, she took his hand, waiting until he looked her in the eye to repeat it more firmly. “No.”

  “If you change your mind, I’ll understand. It’s a pretty snap decision.”

  Piper shook her head. “All of the best decisions in my life have been snap decisions. I’m good with this.”

  His eyes searched her face. Evidently, he saw whatever he needed to see because he relaxed and leaned back, tucking her into his side. “Okay then. Let’s finish our movie.”

  Did he honestly think she’d be able to focus on a movie now? “Don’t we kind of have a lot of details to figure out?”

  “Yeah, but they can wait for tomorrow. The countdown will begin soon enough. Tonight, let’s just get used to the idea that we’re about to jump into the deep end of the pool.”

  Settling against him and tucking her head against his shoulder, she said, “Okay.” As long as you’re with me to help tread water.

  Chapter 4

  “ARE YOU SURE THEY shouldn’t at least meet me first?”

  From the driver’s seat, Myles glanced over at Piper. “Why on Earth would I subject you to my family before the wedding?”

  “Apart from the fact that it’s kinda the way things are done?”

  “Since when do you care about tradition on that front?”

  “Okay, fair point. But it would add to the legitimacy. If we just show up married, they’re bound to be suspicious. Whereas, if they’ve met me, gotten a chance to see that we’re besotted with each other and know we’re planning to get married, we can play off the elopement as a grand, spontaneous adventure and it’ll be less of a surprise.”

  “Besotted?” He shot a glance at her, not sure whether he was offended by the term or not.

  “What do you call spending every waking minute we’re not at work either together or on the phone or texting?”

  “Strategic planning?” he suggested.

  She arched one perfect brow and pursed those kissable lips. “Strategic planning does not involve copious fondling of my ass.”

  “Well it should. It’s a very fine ass.”

  “So’s yours, as it happens. And yes, some of this last week has been planning and filling in the gaps in our knowledge about each other. But mostly we’ve been making up for that lost time in spectacular fashion. And loving every minute of it. Admit it.”

  “You got me there.”

  Piper grinned at him. “If the shoe fits, sweetheart.” She leaned across the center console to lay a smacking kiss on his cheek.

  Her easy affection helped ease something in his chest. Since their engagement—Jesus, he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that—Myles had worried some that she saw this whole thing as a giant, long-running role. But during the show, he’d learned the difference between when she was acting and when she was being herself. This vivacious, relaxed woman had really hitched her metaphoric wagon to his. He’d been splitting his time between enjoying the hell out of the ride and worrying it would blow up in their faces any minute.

  “Fine, I’ll concede besotted. But I’m not bending on the rest. Not only because I don’t want any of the blowback to hit you, but also because my family is one of the ones that does tradition and all that pomp and circumstance you dislike about weddings. If they get wind of it, my grandmother and mom will take over everything.”

  “There’s this little two letter word. You might’ve heard of it. No.”

  “You don’t know my grandmother. She’s a force of nature. It’s just simpler all around if we stick to the plan.” He pulled the car into the Wachoxee County Courthouse parking lot. “Okay, if you’re having second thoughts, now’s the time to back out.”

  “I’m all in,” she said, without hesitation.

  “You’re not nervous at all, are you?”

  “No. Although we probably should’ve brought separate cars.”

  “Why?”

  “What if we run into people we know?”

  “We’re forty-five minutes from Wishful. Who are we going to run into?”

  “Need I remind you that Mississippi is one big small town? You never know.”

  “You’re more likely than I am, and you’ve got those big movie star sunglasses blocking half your face and that scarf around your hair. It’s very Audrey Hepburn.”

  She tipped those sunglasses down and peered over the top of them. “You should’ve worn a hat or something.”

  “We’ll be in and out in a matter of minutes. It’ll be fine.” He slid a hand around her nape and tugged her closer, reveling in how readily she leaned into the kiss. Once Piper Parish made up her mind about something, she didn’t waffle.

  “Mmm,” she purred. “Let’s go get a marriage license.”

  The circuit clerk’s office was on the second floor, next door to the tax assessor’s office. Being mid-morning on a Tuesday, there wasn’t a line.

  As they stepped inside, the clerk, a heavy-set, middle-aged woman beamed from behind the counter. “Can I help you?”

  A public employee who actually likes their job. What a concept.

  “Yes ma’am, we’d like to apply for a marriage license,” he said.

  “Certainly. Here’s the application.” She passed a clipboard across the counter. “And I’ll need both your driver’s licenses.”

  They handed the IDs over and took the clipboard over to a couple of vinyl covered chairs in the corner.

  “You want to write or shall I?”

  “My handwriting is probably neater,” Piper pointed out.

  Myles handed the clipboard over.

  “Full legal name.”

  “Myles Beauregard Stewart.”

  “Beauregard? Really?”

  “I cannot be held accountable for my parents’ taste. What about you?”

  “Piper Elizabeth.”

  “Your initials are PEP?” He grinned. “Were you a cheerleader in high school?”

  “I was not. Show choir. And now you know why I do not fall prey to the Southern addiction to monogramming.”

  She filled in both their addresses, then paused. “Your parents’ names and address.”

  “My parents? Why the hell do they need to know our parents’ information? I’m over thirty for God’s sake.”

  “It’s probably to make sure we’re not cousins or something.”

  Myles gave the information and watched her fill in her own.

  “Mom’s maiden name?” she asked.

  “Myles.”

  “Ah, you’re one of those, huh?”

  “First born. It’s a thing. I consider myself the lucky one. Also on the table was Clifton. I mean, really. Clifton Stewart?”

  “I take your point. Highest grade completed in school? Bachelors or Masters?”

  “Masters from Columbia.”

  “Columbia, huh? And how did you enjoy The Big Apple?”

  “I missed the hell out of Southern cooking. Great night life, though,” he admitted. “Anything else?”

  “Am I correct in assuming there’s no previous marriages hanging out in your closet that you’ve failed to mention?”

  “Nope.”

  “Me either. Okay, we’re done.” Piper crossed to the counter and handed the application over.

  “I’ll just go get this typed up. You wait right there. Oh, and the fee is fifty dollars. Cash only.”

  Piper turned back to him. “Uh oh. Did you bring cash?”

  “Got it covered. Come sit with me, future Mrs. Stewart. Although, under the circumstances, I guess you’re not changing your name, are yo
u?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it yet.” She sat, lacing her fingers through his. “But yeah, under the circumstances, I guess it doesn’t make sense.”

  “If things were different, would you want to? Take my name, I mean.” He didn’t know why it mattered, really. He understood all the reasons a woman might not want to take her husband’s name, but a part of him was still old-fashioned enough to wish she’d at least want to, even if it wasn’t practical.

  “I’m not attached to my maiden name, and I always figured I’d end up taking my husband’s name when I married just as part of that whole forging a unit thing—unless it sounded ridiculous with Piper or was something heinous. There’s this one girl I went to high school with who’s now Amber Hopper Butts. I am pretty positive I can’t love anybody enough to take the last name Butts.”

  Myles laughed. “Don’t blame you there.”

  “But yes, if things were different, I’d take your name.”

  He lifted the hand he held to his lips. “Is it crazy that this is starting to feel less crazy? I keep waiting for reality to kick in, but all I can think about is you.” How was it that in so little time together, she’d so thoroughly worked her way under his skin, into the very fabric of his life?

  She shifted her hand to cup his cheek, staring into his eyes in a rare moment of seriousness. “Nothing great is ever gained without risk. You’re worth the risk.”

  Had anyone ever believed in him that much? Certainly not his family. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve her faith.

  “Piper, I—”

  “Here we go,” said the clerk.

  They crossed to the counter, still holding hands.

  “I just need to get your signatures. You here, Mr. Stewart.”

  Myles signed where she indicated and passed the pen to Piper.

  “And you just there, Ms. Parish.”

  Squeezing his hand, she scrawled her name.

  The clerk, whose name plate read Dotty, took the cash and did whatever recording needed doing before handing the license over in an envelope. “You’re all set. When’s the happy day?”

  “Oh, we haven’t quiet set the date yet.” Piper grinned. “We’re eloping.”

  Dotty beamed. “Congratulations and best of luck to both of you.”

  They thanked her and stepped out into the hall.

  “Well, that feels all official,” he said.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” she asked, one brow lifted.

  Myles tucked her hand in his arm and smiled. “Not a one.”

  He made it all of two steps before someone stepped out of the tax assessor’s office into their path.

  “Oh, excuse me,” the woman said, turning toward them.

  “That’s quite al—” He trailed off as recognition hit him. Oh, please don’t—

  “Why, Myles Stewart! I’d heard you were back in Mississippi after all these years. How’s your grandmother doing?”

  “She’s just fine, Mrs. Healy.” Escape, escape. Must escape.

  “I saw that feature Mississippi Magazine did on her gardens. They’re as lovely as ever.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Myles wracked his brain for some kind of polite exit strategy before she started asking more questions.

  The older women turned inquisitive eyes on Piper. “And who’s this lovely young thing?”

  Too late.

  Before he could think of a reply, Piper offered her hand with a friendly smile. “Piper Parish. It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Healy. I’m so sorry to meet and dash, but I’m late getting back to work and Myles is being kind enough to drop me off.”

  She towed him, politely but firmly, down the hall, even as he called back, “Good to see you, Mrs. Healy. My best to Mr. Healy.”

  Neither of them spoke again until they were in the car.

  “‘It’ll be fine,’ you said. ‘Who will we run into?’ you said.” Piper shot a glance back toward the courthouse. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “No. They were friends of my grandparents forever ago. They moved from Madison around the time I left for college, and I don’t think she and my grandmother have been in touch since.”

  “And yet she’d heard you were back in Mississippi.”

  “That’s probably because of the feature article about it in Something Southern.”

  “Something Southern did an article on you?”

  “Despite my black sheep status in my own family, the rest of society seems to think I’m an eligible bachelor.”

  “Were,” she corrected.

  He liked the possessive gleam in her eye. “Were, indeed. Let’s get you back to work.”

  “That’s the eighth victim of this particular brand of cold in the last two days. I think we’d better get ready for a streak.” Dr. Miranda Campbell scooped a hand through her thick blonde hair.

  “Stock up on Kleenex and antibacterial wipes. Check.” Shelby Abbott, the clinic office manager, scribbled a note on her ever-present list.

  “How are we on the peroxide wipes and spray?” Piper asked, repressing a smile at the incoming text from Myles: Prepping for staff meeting. Nerf dart gun or koosh balls?

  Never a dull day around The Observer.

  “Low.”

  “Might want to add those, too,” Piper suggested, rather wishing they had time for horseplay at their own staff meetings. “We haven’t had a stomach bug in a couple of months. That always makes me nervous. It’s coming.”

  “Fair point,” Shelby conceded.

  “Anything else I need to know about?” Miranda asked this with a pointed glance at Piper.

  “What?” Piper asked, slipping the phone back into her pocket without answering the text.

  “Just wondering when you’re going to tell us who this mystery guy is you’ve been texting like a teenager. I’m working too much to date, so I’m living vicariously through you.”

  “How do you know it’s a guy I’m texting?” she asked, all innocence.

  “Because you’ve had that same secret, flirty smile since high school,” Miranda said. She crossed her arms. “Spill it, Parish.”

  Piper huffed a sigh, but couldn’t seem to tame said flirty smile. “Myles Stewart.”

  “The guy who played Bob in White Christmas?” Shelby asked.

  “The newspaper editor?” Miranda put in.

  “Right on both accounts.” Piper couldn’t help the immediate aren’t-I-a-lucky-girl blush.

  “Totally not surprised,” Shelby announced. “You two were shooting off sparks at that karaoke fundraiser. Everybody else was paying attention to Tyler and Brody, but I saw you.” She smirked and tapped two fingers beside the eagle eyes that tended to miss nothing.

  “How is it we didn’t know about this?” asked Keisha Williams, one of the other nurses, as she handed Miranda a patient file.

  “We’ve been keeping it quiet,” Piper said, deliberately not mentioning how long they’d been seeing each other.

  “Surprised he didn’t have to beat them off with a stick after that write up in Something Southern,” Keisha said.

  Piper had a sudden, entirely irrational desire to show off the engagement ring that nobody could know about. She had it on a very long chain around her neck. “Wait, you saw the article? I haven’t seen the article. What was in this thing?”

  “Mmm, best I recall, an account of his newspaper career to date and his plans for The Observer. Pics of the hottie in his element and all that. He’s got a hella great smile.”

  “Yes, yes, he does,” Piper agreed, unable to stop her own grin from spreading.

  “Well, good for you,” Miranda murmured absently, reading the file. “At least one of us has the good sense to have a life outside this place. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be buried here.”

  “Speaking of which, can I get off a week from Friday?” Piper winced, knowing she’d just asked off several days for Carrie Jo’s wedding and half a day so she and Myles could go to Lawley yesterday.

  “Check with
the Schedule Master,” Miranda told her. “I apparently have a broken finger to set in Room Three.”

  “Shelby?” Piper asked hopefully.

  “I need to see if Noelle can come in to sub for you,” Shelby replied. “If this cold epidemic escalates like we expect, we’ll need someone else here.”

  “Okay, just let me know.” Piper’s phone buzzed in the pocket of her scrubs.

  “Is that Myles?” Shelby asked in a sing-song voice.

  Piper lost her smile as she read the message. “It’s my mother.”

  Come home immediately.

  Automatically, she called her mom’s number. “Piper—”

  Piper’s stomach dropped. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  “You need to come to the house, right now. It’s an emergency.” Her mother’s voice sounded strained.

  “What is wrong?” Piper demanded. “Is it Dad? Is he hurt? Is it—”

  “Your father is fine. Nobody’s bleeding or injured. Just come. Now.”

  Piper stared at her phone as the line went dead. “What the hell? She says it’s some kind of emergency.”

  “We’re not too covered up just now. Go. Let us know if we can do anything.” Shelby waved her on.

  Piper grabbed her purse and bolted for the door. Her brain switched gears, flipping through her mental Roladex of family members and their health conditions as she drove, wondering if someone had had a heart attack or, worse, died. Was it a relative? Had the cat finally given up the ghost? Was she about to be asking off for a funeral? Had Dad lost his job? What the hell else constituted an emergency big enough that she’d be pulled away from the clinic in the middle of the work day?

  A shiny white Lexus sat at the curb in front of her parents’ house. Not a vehicle Piper recognized.

  Okay, not a cop car, so probably no accident anywhere.

  She let herself in through the kitchen door, immediately noting the scent of coffee and the fact that the good china was out. Who merited that kind of treatment? And what kind of emergency would prompt her mom to pull out the china? Or had the emergency happened after?

 

‹ Prev