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“What are you doing?”
I looked up from the mound of ribbon in front of me. “I can’t find the right shade of lime green for my witch’s brew wreath for Maggie Jean over on Butler street.”
Missy stomped down my basement stairs and towered over me. “I am not talking about your darn ribbon, Shelby Lyn.”
Whoa. Missy never called me by my full name. “What happened?”
“Not a damn thing since you’ve locked yourself in the basement for the past two weeks!”
I furrowed my brow. “What are you talking about? Missy, I have a lot of work to do, and I only have two hands.” What on earth was she going off about? I did this every year. I was in the middle of fall wreaths, and my Christmas ones were knocking on the door to be made next.
“When was the last time you talked to Wilder?”
Oh. Oh.
I quirked my lips and tapped my chin. “Um, I think he sent me a text message the other day.”
“And did you reply, Shelby Lyn?”
“Stop,” I whined. “I hate when you call me my full name. Only Wilder can do that, and it doesn’t make me feel like I’m in trouble.”
“Where is your phone?” she asked.
I hoisted myself off the floor and dug around on my worktable. “I think I saw it over here a couple of hours ago. I used it to double-check the colors that Maggie wanted.” I tossed some new ribbon rolls to the side and dug in a pile of fake evergreen scraps.
“Do you ever throw anything away?” Missy grumbled. She grabbed a stack of notebooks and sorted through them. “Is this one from three years ago?”
I grabbed the notebooks from her and shook my finger in her face. “Do not touch my notebooks. These are scared. They have all the details about every wreath I have ever made. People love what I do because I never give them the same things twice.” I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and dropped them inside. “And as soon as I throw away one little scrap, I’ll find a use for it. Waste not, want not.”
“Well, can you please find your phone? I have a point to prove, and you’re not helping.”
I rolled my eyes and lifted the wreath I had been working on. “Got it!” I grabbed my phone and held it up like a trophy.
Missy snatched it from my hand and swiped the screen. “Thank you very much.” She quirked her lips and tapped the screen. “There.” She turned the phone to me and smirked. “It has been eight days since Wilder messaged you, and you didn’t reply.”
I squinted at the screen. “You do know there are fourteen days in two weeks, right?”
Missy handed me back the phone. “You know I get a little dramatic. Now, you are not touching any of this mess until you message back Wilder.”
“How did you know I hadn’t messaged him yet?”
“Because you told me eight days ago, he had messaged you, but then you never told me when you messaged him back, so I figured you hadn’t because I knew you would have been stressing about it.” She splayed her hands out in front of her. “Hence me coming here and making sure you text that man back.”
I thought for sure she would have said she heard around town, but she hadn’t. Odd. “I don’t know what to say, Missy.” I had known I hadn’t messaged Wilder, and I had been stressing about it because I didn’t have time to only stress. I had to stress and work at the same time.
“He asked when he could see you again, Shelby. It’s not a hard question.”
It was as if I didn’t know if my heart could take seeing him again.
“Shelby,” Missy called. “What on earth is going on in your head? I knew I should have come over sooner, but I got busy at work, and Charlie and I broke up.”
“What?” I gasped. That was way bigger news than me not texting Wilder back. “You broke up with Charlie? What happened?”
Missy shrugged. “He’s been stressed about his dad retiring, and now with Chicken King coming to town, he said he just doesn’t have time for me right now.”
“I thought Wilder was going to help him? And wait, Chicken King is for sure coming to Adams?”
Missy nodded. “Yeah, woman. You need to come out of your basement every once in a while. The whole town is upset, and Charlie and Wilder are trying to calm everyone down.”
I blinked rapidly and shook my head. “What in the world? How did this happen so quickly?”
“It’s been in the works for a while, I guess, but they officially announced the groundbreaking for next week.”
“Oh my gosh, Missy.” I set my phone down and ran my fingers through my hair. “I bet Charlie is freaking out. Wilder probably didn’t have any time to start advertising for Chicken Biscuit.”
Missy sighed. “Yeah, he definitely had to hit the ground running. They’ve already got billboards by the highway and advertisements on the local radio stations.”
Well, that was pretty impressive. “But Charlie still broke up with you?”
Missy cringed. “Well, there is more to it, but I don’t have it in me to talk about it yet. I finally stopped crying two days ago, and now I see I should have been over here as soon as my last tear fell. You need to text Wilder or get your butt over to his house.”
“Oh, Missy.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “Why didn’t you call me if you were so upset about Charlie?” I was honestly surprised she was upset about Charlie. She had been the one to say that if Charlie wanted to walk away, then that was what would happen.
Missy shrugged. “I needed to sort myself out alone. I didn’t think I liked him that much, but it turns out I love him, and I just didn’t realize it.”
“Missy,” I cried. “You have to tell him you love him. You can’t just let him walk away without telling him.”
Missy’s eyes glassed over with unshed tears. “I’m going to need you to stop talking about Charlie right now, Shelby Lyn.” She grabbed my phone from the desk and put it in my hand. “You need to call Wilder. You’ve loved that man for ten years, and I’m pretty damn sure he’s loved you, too. You’re being an idiot by running from something that will be the best thing of your life.”
I looked down at my phone and frowned. “I’m going to ignore the fact you called me an idiot, even though that hurt, and listen to you. But first–.”
“Tut,” Missy cut me off. “There is not going to any buts around here, Shelby Lyn. Learn from me being dumb with Charlie, and go get your man.”
I cocked my head to the side. “But first, I need to get dressed.” I looked down at my three-day-old sweats and pointed to the rat's nest on top of my head. “I will not go get my man while looking like this.”
Missy sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Let me help with that.” She grabbed my hand and towed me up the basement stairs, and stopped off in the kitchen for a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine.
“Should I be tipsy when I tell Wilder Presley I’ve been in love with him for years?” I laughed.
Missy shoved the wine into my hands and pulled me up the stairs to my bedroom. “A little liquid courage will do you good.”
She pushed me toward the bathroom. “You need to shower off that funk and get gussied up.”
I rolled my eyes and turned on the water in the shower. “I am not getting gussied up, Missy.”
“Yes, you are,” she insisted. “And I know just the thing you are going to wear.” She waltzed into my bedroom and marched back out with the fancy red dress she had tried to convince me to wear the last time I was at Wilder’s. “Just because it’s a dress does not make this fancy. It is literally a red jersey dress with pockets, Shelby Lyn. You’re wearing it.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, “but I will not wear heels with it.”
Missy threw her hands in the air. “Fine! Just wear some cute flip-flops with it.”
“And a jean jacket, I bargained.”
Missy tapped her finger on her chin. “You know what? I think that would be totally adorable. I’ll find your jacket, and you get your butt in the shower.”
I gave her a jovial salute and closed the door in her face. “You got it.”
I was halfway through my shower when what I was doing hit me.
I was about to tell Wilder Presley I loved him and wasn’t scared at all.
This was my chance to take what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to run away from it. Not again. Wilder Presley was going to find out I loved him, and nothing was going to stop me.
*
