“Thanks for the pizza,” she says, voice soft.
I don’t push. I back up, hands in my pockets.
“Anytime.”
But she doesn’t leave right away. She stands there, watching me. The air is sweeter than it ought to be.
This is my chance, but I’m too terrified of ruining this perfect night to throw caution to the wind.
Before I work up the damn nerve, she gets in her car and drives off, but I watch the taillights until they’re gone. I think about every other match she’s tried to hand me, and how I’d thrown it.
It wasn’t about them, or me. It was about her, and how she made all the bullshit fall away when she looked at me like she was waiting for a punchline.
The next few days, I go through the motions. I fix fences. I move cattle. I call my mother and tell her nothing important. Out at the supply store, I see the new flyer: Cowboy Cupid, LLC. There’s a little cartoon heart with a lasso and Hannah’s number underneath. It’s a bit adorable.
I hear from Garth that Hannah’s got a meeting with him next. Then Cotton Mercer, who can’t go thirty minutes without shoving a muffin in his face while he talks about the odds of finding someone who can tolerate his strange sense of humor. She’s working her way down the list. Working herself right out of my orbit.
I see her at the Dollar General. She’s deep in the detergent aisle, comparing prices, not dressed for anything. I watch her for a bit, not stalking, just thinking through my next move.
If I don’t say something soon, I’ll lose the window. She’ll find her real home here, and I’ll be the guy who let her go.
I catch her outside, sun in her eyes. She’s surprised, but not unhappy.
“Let me guess,” she says. “You need an emergency consult on your love life?”
“Something like that.”
She smiles, waiting for the bit. I don’t give her one.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened before,” I say. “And thank you. For the pizza, and the talk.”
“You don’t need to be sorry, Rhett.”
“I kind of do. I’m not as good at this as I pretend.”
She looks at me, really looks. “You’re better than you think.”
We stand there until a car honks behind us, and she steps back. I want to tell her to stay, to not put me back in the folder with all the other cases.
I settle for, “I think we need to have a serious conversation before you make another match for me.”
She laughs, but the sound is different now. Hesitant, then confused.
“Let’s have dinner tonight. Does 7:00 sound good?” she asks as she unlocks her rental car, and something in her voice makes me think she’s finally on to me. “I heard there’s a new place called Serena’s and we should support local businesses.”
I nod, too stunned to speak, and I watch her drive away with my hat in my hand. This is it. It’s tonight or never, and I’m not willing to accept never.
SIX
HANNAH
Serena’s is still new enough that half the town hasn’t set foot inside, but the owner already plays favorites. It never feels crowded. The lights are low, the tables heavy with polished wood, no art or kitsch on the walls. When I walk in, Rhett’s already there, a water ring growing under his glass. He watches me walk the length of the room without blinking.
I sit down and smooth my skirt. He’s not smiling, just waiting. It puts me at ease. I know what this is: a controlled descent. I just have to keep my hands on the levers.
“Nice place,” I say.
He glances around like he’s seeing it for the first time. “You picked it.”
