Two and a half hours later, Lorelai, Maren, and I are walking up to Kevin’s distillery. The early-June temps have me finally feeling like summer, so I pulled out one of my favorite gauzy white sundresses and a denim jacket. My flat, metallic gold sandals maybe don’t do a whole lot to show off my calves, but I’m cute and comfortable. I’ve twisted back a chunk of my bangs off to the side, and Maren lent me a pair of gold hoops that have me feeling like Cleopatra. I press my lips together at the door, and Lorelai’s grin is soft and reassuring, just like last time. “You look like a queen, Shelb. Let’s get this bitch.”

Maren squeezes my hand between hers and Lorelai opens the door. The noise level is quite a bit higher this time. College students out celebrating the end of the semester, maybe. The distillery is packed to the gills, but Kevin catches us walking in and waves a ginormous hand, calling us over.

“Where’s Cam?” I ask.

He nods to the far end of the bar, where a small temporary stage has been set up. “Setting up karaoke.”

I choke on my breath. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” he says with a mile-wide grin, rubbing his palms together. “I haven’t been this excited since freshman year of college.”

“Can I get you gals a drink?” Kevin’s adorable and very pregnant wife, Beth, asks.

“Go ahead and start a tab,” I say, passing my credit card. “I’ll take a ginger ale, please. Extra cherries, if you got ’em.”

She grins. “You bet. And you two?” Maren and Lorelai order their cocktails and settle on stools next to me. A moment later Beth returns with our drinks.

“Where’s the snake at?” Lorelai asks, stabbing at a cherry in her whiskey sour.

I don’t bother to look. “Not here yet. We’d know if he was. The cameras would be here. They’ll come together,” I say dryly.

“Hey, ladies,” Cameron says over my shoulder, raising his brows at my drink. “Liquid courage?”

I grin sheepishly. “I wish. Someone decided to set up karaoke. It’s just ginger ale.”

He scoffs good-naturedly and my stomach does a tiny flip that has nothing to do with singing and everything to do with the way his fitted gray-green V-neck sets off his eyes. “You owe me a duet. Besides, Lyle won’t be happy if there’s not any action. This is the best way to fend off the wolves.”

My thought exactly.

He elbows Lorelai. “Can you be convinced, Miss Country Music Icon?”

Lorelai lifts a coy shoulder. “Perhaps.”

“Oh, please. She’s been begging for the chance. Besides, she’s got no excuses this time.” I bat my lashes, tellingly.