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“He’s a Capulet, and his Montague is out there,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Is that Molly?” asks Adam. His smile drops. “With Olivia?”
My heart breaks. “No, with your mom.”
Olivia will probably be by shortly, just as soon as she finishes applying perfect winged eyeliner and brushing up on her French.
The front door opens and in what I can only describe as a lover’s reunion, Mouse breaks free of Adam’s hold and darts toward Molly at full speed. I cover my eyes with my hands, preparing for the worst, but when I pry them open again, Mouse is lying on his back with his paws in the air—a universal sign of submission. I’ve seen him do it a hundred times with other dogs, but with Molly, it looks as if he’s thrown himself on the ground and is pleading with her to have him.
I love you, his eyes implore. Molly stands beside him, peering down for only a second before she barks and licks his face. Then, they’re off, tearing through the house at breakneck speeds.
“Open the back door!” Adam shouts to Lucas.
He does so just as they race past and head out into the pasture.
“They’re in love,” I explain to the room full of curious onlookers. “I think that’s why he ran away last night. He went to look for her.”
“Aw!” Daisy exclaims. “That’s adorable.”
We all go peer out the back window; sure enough, they’re frolicking in the grass, taking turns chasing one another. It looks like a cliché dog food commercial.
“Diane, can I get you some coffee?” I ask when I turn back to the group.
Please say no, please say no.
Her eyes light up. “Actually, I’d love some. I had an early morning and I forgot to take some out on the road with me.”
Of course. Why did I even dare to hope otherwise? Adam and I will never be alone. This parade of people will continue until eventually I lose my remaining grip on sanity, hoist him up against a wall by his lapels and shout, ARE YOU STILL WITH HER?! JUST TELL ME!
For now, I move into the kitchen like a robot, pouring Diane coffee and counting backward from ten so I don’t lose my cool in front of everyone. I hear footsteps behind me and expect it to be Diane, but then I catch a whiff of Adam’s body wash. Mountain-man freshness makes me straighten and pause.
“I can take that,” he says, reaching around me for the mug. “You don’t have to wait on everyone hand and foot. You’ve been doing it all morning, and you must be exhausted.”
He’s not exaggerating. I feel so bad that everyone spent their night searching for me that I want to make sure everyone has enough coffee and donuts and napkins to last them a lifetime.
I shrug. “I don’t mind doing it.”
“But you want everyone to leave.”
My gaze flicks up to his. “Is it that obvious?”
He sets down his mom’s mug on the kitchen counter behind me and steps closer. Our hips brush together. “I want them to leave too.”
“Adam.”
His hand is hooked around the nape of my neck and he’s tilting my head back gently so he has a perfect path to my lips. He takes advantage, placing a soft kiss there before laughter from the other room makes me jump.
He laughs. “We’re allowed to kiss.”
“Are we?”
He frowns. “Olivia left this morning.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, and he says it like it explains everything. Well, it doesn’t.
“So? Will she back? Is she heading to Chicago to pack up her things so she can move here permanently?”
“No, of course not. She and I are over.”
“She announced to the training class that she is your fiancée—IS, not WAS.”
His eyes flare with anger. “Yeah, because she’s crazy, Madeleine. I could have explained everything to you if you hadn’t run off.”
He seriously expected me to stay after that?
“Excuse me for leaving instead of looking like a fool in front of a room full of strangers!”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“It was too late! I didn’t hear you say anything when she called herself your fiancée.”
“What was I supposed to do? Tell everyone in the room that she was delusional? I thought it would be best to handle my personal life in private.”
“Well to me it seemed like you were more worried about Olivia’s feelings than mine.”
He drags his hand through his hair, clearly annoyed with me. “C’mon Madeleine, you’re being—just try to calm down.”
“No, please, say what you were about to say. Am I being ridiculous? Well how exactly am I supposed to act right now? Polite? Grateful? Sorry, I’m not a fancy girl from Chicago. Down here, where I’m from, we don’t shove our emotions under the rug and pretend like everything is okay.”
“What’s taking so long?” Diane asks from the kitchen doorway, oblivious to the full-blown argument she’s just walked in on.
