Stop thinking like that.

“You said he was out of town this week?” I asked.

Last night, we’d agreed not to tell anyone anything about either our planned courthouse wedding or our business deal until we worked out details together. Presley was the only other person who knew the truth.

“Ironically, he’s in South Carolina for a brewers’ conference until Thursday.” Holden steered close to the pumps and stopped the car. “I’d rather tell him in person, but keeping it to myself is killing me.”

“I don’t think we should make my name as the investor public,” I said, giving voice to one of the thoughts that had circled in my mind last night.

“Why not?”

“It’s… suspicious. We get married at the same time I invest in your business.”

“You’re probably right,” he said. “But Kemp needs to know.”

“It’s your call how much you tell him. I already told you Presley’s in on it.”

“I’ll level with him. But no one else.”

“Agree,” I said easily. “The more people who know, the higher the chance of it somehow getting back to Angelica.”

“And we’re not telling anyone here in town that we’re getting married until after we’re officially hitched.”

“Except our families. Right. Which we’re doing this week. As soon as I can get into my new office and figure out when I can take a couple of hours off.”

With that in mind, I slipped the ring off my finger and stuffed it down deep into the front pocket of my jeans, which, yes, did happen to be an expensive brand. I wanted to run in and grab a twelve-pack of cola for my office, as well as some snacks and breakfast bars. I didn’t have it in me to hit the Country Market for groceries yet tonight, and engaged or not, I wasn’t yet comfortable eating Holden’s food stash, if he had one. I suspected he grabbed most of his meals at Henry’s anyway.

I met Holden at the gas tank and slid my card in before he could. Once the transaction was done and he’d begun filling the tank for me, I headed inside. It wasn’t until I was walking through the door that it occurred to me I should’ve asked if he wanted anything. I wasn’t in the habit of having someone with me at the gas station, let alone having someone intricately involved in my life.

As I went down the snack aisle, focused on finding some edible breakfast bars, I registered a woman’s voice down the way from me saying, “Well, well, well.”

I whipped my head up and felt like I’d walked right into a brick wall.

Magnolia James was the last person I wanted to reconnect with, ever, and there she was, looking prissy and judgmental and as put-together and beautiful as always.