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proof.”

Bonus points? Proof? What in the world was going on with Greta Macmillan’s Facebook page?

“Evie’s the one to ask.” Alex turned to me with a mischievous grin. “She’s a very private person, you see.”

I absolutely did not want my picture posted on that damn Facebook page. I didn’t even want to be a topic of conversation in the first place. The vulnerability of an entire town scrutinizing my brand-new relationship planted an uneasy feeling in my stomach. If I had my way, I’d be comfortably slipping under everyone’s radars.

But, I was working on growth. Strength. Trust…

So…

“This is way the heck out of my comfort zone, but sure. What’s the harm?” While the fearful part of my brain listed all the possible harm in an alphabetized and bullet pointed list, I snuggled into Alex’s embrace and Bridget happily clicked away.

The moment we were seated and awaiting our Drunken Sailors, Alex pulled his notes out of his bag and started reading. His pen tapped against the page as he thought. His brow furrowed only for his whiskey eyes to light up as he scribbled a note in the margin. As he worked, he took my hand, absently running his thumb along my knuckle, and I smiled right along with him, happy to see the story still flowing.

What I said to Amelia was one hundred percent true. I was genuinely happy for Alex. That was how writing should be. Consuming. Rewarding. I missed feeling that way but didn’t begrudge him for being in it. Not for one second.

At least I didn’t before I spoke with Amelia.

As I watched Alex think, I tried to reclaim the general sense of ease I had around the topic of him working at all hours before her call. He needed to devote his time to the book while his brain still allowed him to see the story, or he’d have to pay back his advance and risk getting dropped by his publisher. What a ridiculous thing, that someone as talented and prolific as Alexander Prescott had to worry about that. The world focused too much on money and immediacy. Maybe people and products, relationships and trust, maybe those things wouldn’t break so easily if we focused more on quality and less on speed.

Patience would be the name of my game.

Alex would finish the manuscript, send it off to his editor, and everything would go back to normal.

I placed my chin in my hands and gazed into the belly of the restaurant, surprised to find a couple tables staring. Some smiled before they glanced away, but always, I caught the faintest hint of sadness flitting across their faces. The people of Wildrose Landing felt sorry for me, which didn’t exactly leave me with the warmest of fuzzies.

Alex glanced up, caught me staring into the distance, and frowned. “You okay?”

“Me? Oh yeah. I’m great.” I sat up straight and grinned widely to prove just how great I was.

“Do you want me to put these away?” He gestured to the notes, then went ahead and shoved them into his bag before I could reply. A haunted look crossed his eyes, but it was gone before I could be sure I saw what I thought I saw. “Only a fool would let a beautiful woman eat dinner alone, while he sat across from her.”

“I really don’t mind if you need to work. I know that deadline’s putting pressure on you.”

“Spending an evening with the most beautiful woman in Wildrose Landing will refresh me and the story will be even better tomorrow.” Alex leaned close. “Especially if I earn access to that magic hooha.”

I giggled through a slew of anxious thoughts that had no right to interrupt our dinner. What if he was only with me because of the magic hooha? What if he actually didn’t like me? What if he was using me to get what he wanted, and intended to cast me aside when the book was done? What if Amelia knew how much doubt she’d put into my head? Would she tell me I was being silly? Or would she double down and reinforce the narrative?

I couldn’t stand so much self-doubt. My head needed to just stop already.

“Who’s Candace?” The question was out before I could stop it.

Alex flinched. “Where’d you hear about her?”

“Apparently Greta’s been talking about her on her Facebook page.”

Alex sat back, a frown tugging at his lips as he raked a hand over his mouth. “Candace is an ex. We were pretty serious for a while, but it didn’t work out.”

Eager to keep the conversation light, I offered a smile. “Did she steal one of your books and publish it as her own?”

Obviously uncomfortable, he glanced at the ceiling and swallowed hard, then forced a laugh. “Not quite.”

“Wow. You mean you stole her book and published it as your own? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

This earned me a genuine smile and hearty laugh. “I’m full of surprises. Stick with me, kid. I’ll make it all worth your while.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” It was everything I could do to keep joking while my mind waged a war with my personality. My curiosity demanded I press for more information on Candace, but I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.

Privacy mattered.

Alex would tell me his story when he was ready.

Or he wouldn’t.

And I’d be okay with that.

Probably.

Maybe.

For the most part.

“It’s eating you up, isn’t it?” He quirked a grin. “After going on and on about being a private person, you can’t bring yourself to push for more info even though it’s eating you up inside.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if you wanted to tell me about her.” I smiled warmly while I ran a finger along the back of his hand. “I did tell you about Drew after all.”

“Oh, Evie.” Disappointment dripped from his words while humor sparkled in his eyes. “I didn’t think you were the type to keep score.”

I took a long drink of my

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