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“Yes, please.I’mlooking to rent a tux for a month from now.”
Henods, then gets up from the chair he’s sitting on.Heleads me through the room where the tuxes are and gestures his arm out at them. “Havea look.Justlet me know when you’re ready.”
OnceIgive him a nod, he walks back the way we came and leaves me alone to study my options.
Theblack and white are too plain.Iwant something that will wowGeorgiawhen she sees me.Somethingthat will make me stand out, but not too much that it takes away from the groom.
Ieye the other colors — a light pink, light blue, even a black embroidered green one, and my gaze stops on the navy suit.Navymight seem like something too ordinary, but it’s not a colorIever wear.I’mnot entirely sure why, but every timeI’veworn a tux it’s always been white or black.Maybeif she sees me in this, it will pique her interest.
Iwalk back to the front of the shop, letting the staff member knowI’mready, then head back into the room and hold up the navy blue one.
“Alright, go put it on and we’ll get your measurements for everything.”Theold guy walks toward the far end of the room, whileIturn toward the fitting rooms, andItake a deep breath.
Thishas to work.Afterthis, she has to notice me as more than a friend.
Chapter3
Georgia
TheDavisranch has always been one of my favorite places to go, especially asIwas growing up.There’sa lake that sits in the middle of the property whereWinnieandIwould swim most of the time, but it’s been a while since we did that.Thinkingabout how different our lives have gotten since we were little causes an ache to form in my heart.
Iturn up the winding driveway that leads toWinnie’sparents’ house, where the wedding will be taking place in a couple weeks, and glance at the surroundings.There’sa pasture of horses to my left, where my very own horse stands at the edge of the fence chomping on some grass.
I’msure it won’t hurt anything ifIget out for a minute, soIpull off to the side and lift out of my car with a smile on my face.EversinceIstarted working at the chiropractic clinic, there hasn’t been much time for me to takeMidnightfor rides.Winnie’sdad assures me that she’s getting all the exercise she needs while she’s out here, but that doesn’t make me feel much better.
Myphone rings in my pocket, the sound startlingMidnight, andIpat her head to calm her down while taking it out.Winnie’sname shines on the screen andIroll my eyes asIaccept the call.
“Yes?”
“Justwanted to see if you made it to my parents’ yet.”
Inod, pattingMidnight’shead once more before walking away and getting back into my car. “Goingup the driveway now.Istopped to say hi toMidnight.”
“Okay, well, let me know if you need anything else before the wedding.Everythingshould be there though, according to my mother.”
“I’lllet you know.Nowlet me go do my job.”
Wesay our goodbyes andIhead the rest of the way up the driveway, parking in front of theDavis’ house.Assoon asI’mout of the car, a bark catches my attention, andIget down on the ground.Sadieis a border collie and makes me wishIhad my own dog, but that would require too much work.
WhileSadiegives me as many kisses as possible, the front door opens andJeanDavissteps out onto the porch.Shesmiles at me softly. “Georgia, sweetie, it’s so good to see you.”
“Hi,Mrs.Davis, how are you today?”Iask while rubbing behindSadie’sears and chuckling when her foot starts thumping on the ground.Ifthere’s anything this dog loves more than food, which is saying something, it’s being scratched behind her ears.
Jeanplaces her hands on her hips and gives me a stern frown. “WhathaveItold you?CallmeJean, dear, you’ve been in the family long enough.”
She’snot wrong.Thiswas practically my second home as a kid.Buteven thoughIgrew up around this family, it still doesn’t feel right to call them by their first names.Well, except forCamdenandWinnie.
Istand from my spot on the ground, eliciting a whine fromSadieas she rolls on her back.
Ipat her tummy with a smile. “Maybelater, sweet girl.”ThenIwalk towardsJeanon the porch and follow her into the house.Shegoes into the kitchen immediately, handing me a glass of her famous sweet tea.
Still, to this day,Ihave no clue what she adds to her tea and neither does the rest of the town.Notthat no one has tried figuring it out, butIthink after her sixth win at the local sweet tea competition everyone gave up trying.Noone really tries to compete anymore either, not wanting to get beat byJean.
You’reprobably wondering why there’s such a thing as a sweet tea competition inDaisyCreek, andIcan tell you exactly why.Therewas this older woman who used to live in the town, according to my parents, who loved nothing more than to chug gallons of sweet tea a day.Whenshe passed away, the mayor at the time thought the best way to honor her was to start a competition strictly focused on making the best sweet tea.Jeandidn’t enter immediately, until a bunch of people around town tasted her sweet tea and told her she should try.Nowthere’s an entire shelf dedicated to the awards she got for each year she’s won.
Itake a long sip of the tea, then sit it back on the counter and turn towardJean. “Where’severything at?”
Jeannudges her head toward the living room and my eyes bulge whenIwalk inside.Thereare a dozen boxes sitting in the middle of the floor, each opened slightly as if someone was already checking everything.
