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I swallow and nod. “Really. It feels good to be home.”
“Any idea how long you’ll stay?”
Guilt expands in my chest as I shake my head.
It’s not a lie; it’s not the truth either. But I need to figure out what I’m doing before inviting opinions. Too many people have enough thoughts about my choices already.
“Until the end of the summer?”
I glance at Hudson. “Why?”
He looks around the empty kitchen, then back to me. “I’m planning on proposing to Morgan.”
“Wow. That’s…wow. That’s awesome, man.”
I’m shocked and doing a poor job of hiding it.
Hudson tilts his head to study me. “You think?”
“Yeah, I do. She seems great.”
I have to sayseemsbecause I barely know the woman my best friend is planning to propose to.
Hudson exhales. Nods. “I want to do it before school starts and she’s back at work. I was thinking I’d throw an end-of-summer party. Do it then.”
I nod, like I have any insight into what makes a good proposal. It’s been years since I made it to a third date with a girl, much less contemplated a future. “That sounds good.”
“What about you?”
I should have seen this coming, and I’m tempted to walk right out of the kitchen without answering. “I’m not proposing to anyone this summer, no.”
He scoffs and leans back against the counter. “Have you even dated anyone since Sutton Everett?”
“Yes. And I told you, that was arranged by my label. Dating is low on my priority list right now. Not to mention…awkward.”
Uncomfortable under the best of circumstances, and celebrity isn’t that. Either women want me for my fame and money or they’re scared off by it. Lose-lose situation.
“Since you’ve been back, you’ve barely left the ranch.”
“It’s been a week. And buildings are basically falling down, Hud. I’ve got my hands full. Literally.”
“Hire someone then. It’s not like you don’t have the money to.”
I exhale, not sure how to explain that’s part of the reason I’m determined to do it myself. “Iwantto do it.”
Hudson shrugs, his expression making it obvious he thinks I’m being stubborn for no reason, but not wanting to argue about it. “Morgan said there’s a new teacher at the high school this year. Let’s hit up Wagon Wheel with her this weekend. Double date.”
“Maybe.”
Another sigh at my noncommittal answer, but he doesn’t push it. “You going to play the fair this year?”
“Yeah.” I’m dreading it, but I’ll perform.
All I’ve done since returning to Oak Grove is cut hay, clear junk, and fix up the farmhouse.
And avoid calls.
Which reminds me…
