Tyler Gates.
I stare at it. Falon sees it at the same moment I do. I feel her go still beside me.
Tyler doesn't call at two in the morning. Tyler texts in short bursts, never more than he has to. Tyler calling in the middle of the night means he's awake and wants to talk.
I reach for the phone.
Chapter 24
Welcome back?
Falon
I’ve been fighting the strap on this sandal for five minutes. I told Bo I’d be ready by eleven. It is now eleven thirty I still haven’t had these strappy things on. There was a reason I liked my boots and jeans. The jeans fit just fine and can handle just about anything, even my accident-prone self, and my boots don’t have straps, Velcro, or zippers, so they are pretty much Falon-proof, but thin strappy sandals are bound to be the death of me.
“Are you coming or not?” Bo yells up the stairs, where I am currently hopping on one foot, wedging the buckle with my thumbnail, and it pops loose. Again. I grab the doorframe with one hand, jam my foot back into the sandal, and try again, slower this time, which is extremely hard to do when someone downstairs is laughing loud enough for the whole house to hear.
"I can hear you," I call out.
"I'm not doing anything."
"You're laughing. That’s doing something."
"Nope, laughing is not against the rules."
“What rules?” I mumble to myself.
I get the buckle on the third try and straighten up, smoothing my dress down with both hands. It's just a white cotton dress with small blue flowers. It is nothing fancy, but it is comfortable, and I don’t even want to think about how long it took me to decide what to wear. Am I too dressed up for a town barbecue? Then I remember that half of Everwood wears rhinestones to the feed store. Letting out a small breath, I check myself one more time in the mirror, then grab my little handbag. My hair is down, and I’d worn Grandma Em’s small earrings she gave me for my birthday before she passed a few years ago. I didn’t normally wear mascara, but I was starting to like it. With everything in order and the strappy devils on my feet, I head downstairs.
It is strange to be this nervous and worried about a, and I quote, date. Bo’s words. He’d actually gotten me flowers and asked me to be his Fourth of July date. I blushed and nodded like a fool. I’d gone to the Fourth of July dance with other men, but none were Bo Gates. This was new, not only that, Bo and I had been close out in public, but today, Bo said all bets were off. He was going to date me the right way tonight. I blushed just thinking about the way he’d kissed my forehead.
“Thinking about me?” Bo asks as I came down the stairs. “You’re blushing.” Bo is standing at the bottom with his arms crossed and his hat tipped back on his head, and he looks amazing as only Bo could. He's in dark jeans and a grey t-shirt with a sport coat over it, boots, a hat, and perfect. I almost miss the last step.
Way to play it cool, Falon.
"You look nice," he says with a cheek-splitting grin.
"You're still laughing."
"I stopped. Kind of." He holds out his hand when I reach the bottom step. "You ready?"
"I've been ready."
He raises one eyebrow.
"I've been mostly ready," I correct.
He takes my hand, and we head for the door. Rowdy is waiting beside it, tail going, ready to go. Bo had debated over this for a few days until he finally called Sam, as I’d suggested several times. Bo was worried about the loud noises for Rowdy and for himself. He’d been home for three months, and things were still hard for him. He still woke up at night hearing loud whistles and explosions that weren’t there, and he’d be fine at the ranch until the horses kicked a bucket or a tractor backfired. Bo kneels and scratches behind his ears.
“Are you ready, buddy?” he asks, before clipping his leash to his collar.
"He's going to be fine. Sam said he’d already desensitized him. Rowdy will probably do better than we will," I say, trying to console Rowdy’s overly sensitive owner.
"Absolutely," Bo agrees, and pulls the door shut behind us.
The drive into town only takes a few minutes, but before we reach the main streets of Everwood, flags are already flying, and red, white, and blue streamers are strung between anything over three feet high. Lamp posts, stop signs, and the town gazebo.
Everwood does the Fourth the way it does everything, overly enthusiastic and perfect.
