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Check out the first chapter of
Wilder Presley Says He Loves Me
Chapter One
He’s back…
Shelby Lyn
“He’s back.”
I snagged the last roll of black ribbon and dropped it into my basket.
“I saw him this morning at the diner. When he walked right by, I was getting my two scrambled eggs with wheat toast and maple sausage.” Missy clicked her tongue. “He looked as fine as fireworks on the fourth of July out on Mason Lake, let me tell you.”
My eyes searched the shelf for the second time hoping for more black ribbon to magically appear. “Maybe they have more black ribbon in the back,” I mumbled. I needed at least five more yards to ensure I had enough to finish the wreath Mrs. Baxter ordered. Halloween was fast approaching, and I needed to get a jump on my yearly orders.
“Shelby Lyn.” Missy snapped her fingers in my face. “Have you heard a word I‘ve said?”
I stepped back and swatted her hand out of my face. “Yeah, you ate your breakfast this morning, and it was as good as the fourth of July fireworks.”
Missy scoffed. “You missed the important part.”
Missy spoke a mile a minute, and while I’m sure most of what she said was necessary to someone somewhere, most of the time, I tuned her out. After almost twenty years of friendship, I learned that if I missed something important that came out of her mouth, she tended to return to it until I heard her. This was one of those times. “Then tell me the important part while we wait for Jack to get his ass out of the backroom and help me.”
“You know he’s probably reading the oldPlayboysback there.” Missy visibly shivered. “Thank god I never had a boy. I don’t think I could have handled the crusty socks and forty-minute showers.”
“Missy. Did you need to go there?” Dear god in heaven. I did not need that mental picture painted in my brain. “I doubt Jack is doing anything in the backroom. Please, he’s eighteen. I hope he can control himself till he gets off work.”
Missy shrugged. “Girl, you remember how boys were when we were eighteen. Horn dogs looking to rut.”
“Uh, rut?” Was she talking about men or deer?Sometimes the lines did blur.
She scoffed and grabbed the dark blue ribbon. “Dad was watching the hunting channel last time I stopped by. What about this one?”
I shook my head. “It’s navy.”
“Nonsense. This is black,” she insisted.
I grabbed the ribbon from her and set it back on the shelf. “It’s navy, and it won’t work.” The backroom door swung open, and Jack walked out. “There’s Jack.”
“Oh lordy. See, he’s tucking his shirt in.” Missy hissed. “Whatever you do, do not touch his hands,” she advised.
“Jack,” I called. “Can you check to see if there is any more one-inch black ribbon in the back?”
Jack gave me a two-fingered salute and backtracked to the backroom.
