Page 8 of Sweet Devotion

“Pretty far from home.” The woman wearing dangling earrings that reminded Colleen of an antique disco ball continued to look at Aiden as though he’d said Mars not the Bronx.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He serves with Kade,” Colleen volunteered.

The bling queen’s countenance changed instantly. “Well, thank you for your service, young man. I’m sure you’re going to love it here in Honeysuckle.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled back at her.

“Well,” Mildred took a step back, “I’m late to meet Iris for coffee. You should pop into the café. Iris would love to see you.”

“We’ll see.” Colleen did her best to look sincere. The last thing she needed for this budding therapist patient relationship was for the one woman in town who could spread gossip faster than the six o’clock news to spread rumors about Colleen and her new young man. Especially since he was anything but hers.

Waiting for Mildred to be out of ear shot, Aiden turned to her. “Does she always dress like that?”

“Like what?”

“The rhinestone cowgirl.”

Colleen blinked and looked in Mildred’s direction. So used to seeing the bling queen shining like a clear diamond, Colleen hadn’t noticed what Mildred wore. A smile took over her face. “Yeah, she does.”

“Really?”

The way his face crumpled with confusion made Colleen smile. “Really. If the annual corn hole tournament is on a sunny day, she can blind half the town with a simple turn.”

Aiden let out a tight burst of laughter. “That sounds dangerous.”

“It is.” Colleen moved forward. “Last year she took out a judge and a scoreboard.”

“You’re kidding.” At her side, his gait controlled and his face set like stone, she didn’t need to be a physical therapist to know the man was doing his best to ignore any pain or discomfort.

“Well, the scoreboard was already off kilter, but the poor judge, blinded by the bling.”

This time his laughter was stronger and deeper. “Sounds like the name of an oldie’s tune.”

It took her a minute to make the connection with an actual oldies song. “Anyhow, the judge stepped back and tripped over Abigail Fine’s poof pup.”

“I’m sorry,” he did his best to keep up with her pace, “poof pup?”

“One of those pocket breeds that’s all fluff and wiggle with the perpetual pink ribbon on her head.”

“Ah. Poof. Got it.”

“Then he landed on one of the boards and hit his head. Mild concussion.”

“Ouch.”

“That about sums it up.” She swung the door to the shop open, only mildly surprised when Aiden hurried around her to hold it open instead. “Thank you.”

He nodded his response with a bright smile. Inside, it took them all of ten, maybe fifteen minutes to gather the supplies he needed and were out the door taking in Main Street again. “Looks like the town is waking up.”

In just the few short minutes they were inside, Aiden was right, more people were mulling about, shopkeepers had opened the doors, vehicles were ambling down the street and no surprise, the corn hole courts at the park were beginning to fill up.

His gaze fixed on the park, one corner of Aiden’s mouth lifted in a brighter smile. “Reminds me of my grandfather and his friends playing bocce.”

“Now it’s my turn to be confused. Bocce?”

“Think of it as old man’s bowling on dirt.”