Page 36 of Hats off to Love

“Technically, I could have. I’m not tied to this town like you are, but Louisville is home. My mom is here. The farm is here.” I glance over to see if he has a reaction to this, but he doesn’t. “And my goal has always been the hat shop. Why? Do you wish you could live somewhere else?”

He tilts his head a little as he thinks this through. “I have thought about it,” he says warily, as if admitting this is somehow a deep sin.

“Yeah?” I ask with a little enthusiasm, trying to let him know it’s okay to talk to me.

“Yeah.” He looks at the ground, and then he adds, “Yeah, even if just for a short time.”

I hear what he’s not saying, and I feel empathy for him. Two weeks ago, I would have mocked him by saying, Oh, you poor little rich boy, but not today. Today, I’m able to look past the animosity I’ve carried toward him for so long to see a man I know for certain loves the life he was given and wouldn’t change anything but sometimes dreams of something different. I think that’s true for most people, though, and it would be unfair of me to scorn him for his feelings.

“Well, maybe you should start by taking a vacation or two. I don’t remember you doing so in a long time.”

He sighs. “I haven’t. There really hasn’t been time. I started working right after law school, and I’ve barely had a chance to come up for air. Besides, who would I go with?”

The sudden thought of him living his best life and exploring the world with someone else makes the dinner in my stomach turn over. I know it shouldn’t, but it does.

“Do you need someone to go on vacation with you?”

He glances at me. “I guess I don’t, but I’m not completely immune to wanting company.”

I think back to the party when I had that thought about him and it being lonely at the top. I’ve never considered that he might actually be lonely, though I don’t know why he would be. Like I’ve said, to everyone other than me, he’s always been charming and kind. He might not be an outgoing, boisterous person, but he is someone people like to be around.

“I know you have friends—I’ve seen you with them.” I bump his shoulder with mine to attempt to wipe away the double lines between his eyes.

“I suppose.”

“What about Jackson, Tristan, or Jacob?” These are the friends he brought home once from college. They’ve spent several weekends here over the years, and I know he keeps in touch with them because his mom occasionally mentions them at the monthly dinners.

“I saw Jackson in February—he’s moved to Nashville—and Jacob is getting married. We’ve talked about a possible weekend somewhere, but it’s hard to coordinate schedules.”

“Jacob is getting married?” I know we are of the age, but I don’t have any married friends. In fact, the thought of marriage almost makes me feel squeamish, but then I look at Stokes and that feeling drifts away. He will make a great husband one day, and for some reason that idea has my heart sinking and my shoulders drooping.

Lost in thought and not paying attention, I trip over a rock on the gravel road, and Stokes grabs me to keep me from falling. His hands are warm, and his brows pull down in concern.

“You okay?” he asks, running his fingers down my arm to my hand where he wraps his around mine.

I nod, unable to respond.

He starts walking again, only this time we’re holding hands. The teenager inside me weeps. I’m not sure if it’s over lost and broken dreams or because the possibility might still be there. Either way, I’m reeling and at the same time trying to take as many mental pictures of us as I can.

“Yes, he’s getting married.” He lets out a sigh, but it’s content, not discouraged, and I know he’s happy for his friend. “His poor fiancée . . . does she even realize what she’s strapping herself to?”

I grin. “I’m sure she does. When is the wedding?” I have to believe Stokes will be a groomsman. At the thought of him and his tall masculine frame in a fitted tuxedo, baby butterflies stretch their wings in my stomach.

“August. Want to be my date?” he asks, his eyes seeking out mine. They are confident, sure, hopeful.

August.

That means he wants us to continue being friends like this when the Derby is over. Those little wings start to beat. Then again, why wouldn’t we be friends? It’s not like our lives are going to change any time soon, that is unless he finds someone he’s interested in.

“So that’s it, you’re just going to default to me as your plus-one from now on?” I tease, but something begins to flit behind my rib cage. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think wishfulness were trying to make its unwanted presence known.

“So far so good, right?” he asks, studying my face with an openness I don’t usually see on him.

It makes me wonder, Does he have this wishfulness too?

14

“Good morning, Louisville!” the television host Carly says animatedly toward the camera, the softbox lights illuminating her skin and everything around us. “This morning, I am here with Rosie from Rosie May, and we are going to discuss all the details you need to know about Derby hats.”