Page 72 of Now and Then

“Imagine the look on everyone’s faces when they see us, though. Plus”—he reaches to his side and pulls out another costume—“there’s a pink one.”

“Oh my god,” I gasp, putting a hand over my mouth. “That makes it so much better!”

“You know you want to.” His tone is firm, and I know he’s on the verge of being bossy—something I allow only him to get away with. “We’ll win the best couples costume.”

“Is that what we are now?” I glance down at my toes. “A couple?” I’m not sure I want to hear his answer. My fingers tingle from nerves.

His boots enter my line of sight. I bring my gaze back to his.

“Sutton, I don’t care what label you give us as long as you and everyone else knows you’re mine.”

I blush fiercely as butterflies take flight in my stomach. “I might have told the girls about our date tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?” He drops the costumes and hooks his fingers in my belt loops, pulling me close. “And, what do the rest of the Wildflowers have to say?”

My hands smooth up his forearms and over his broad shoulders, linking behind his neck. “Something to the extent of ‘fucking finally.’”

He bursts out laughing. “Well, there you have it. Now we have to win the best couples costume. These are way better than hobbit feet anyways.”

“Fine,” I grumble, narrowing my eyes. “But let’s find a backup for when I can’t stand being in this anymore.” I look our costumes up and down. “Or if they completely destroy Greer’s house.”

He nods, grabs both costumes, and darts off to another aisle.

After we find backups, we pay for both sets of costumes and make our way to Betty’s Diner. We slide into the booth as Betty herself drops off two waters and says our food will be out shortly—she’s already got our regular orders down. The food is secondary to the way we slip into a rhythm that’s always been ours. The hum of the jukebox mingles with the clinks and clangs of forks on plates as we talk.

“You good with going to Big Joe’s still?” Hunter dips a french fry in ketchup.

“Why wouldn’t we? We always go to country swing night.”

“Because”—his foot nudges mine under the table—“things are a bit different between us this time.”

“Yeah? And?” I’m not really sure what he’s getting at.

“Sometimes, woman.” He tosses down a fry and stares directly at me. “You didn’t like the idea of us being part of the rumor mill. Tonight will definitely make a splash in the headlines if we go to Big Joe’s—because there’s no way I’m keeping my hands to myself.”

I purse my lips. I know I won’t be able to control myself either. Why does everyone have to be in everyone’s business in a small town? Maybe I should be more concerned, but I’m not. “It’s probably far past time we make those rumors true,” I say.

He leans back against the booth seat, clasping his hands behind his head. “Alright then.”

As we finish our meal, I realize we’ve done this exact thing a hundred times—Betty’s Diner, then dancing. Tonight is different. Tonight, we’re admitting that we’re more than friends. Maybe some women would like something fancy or unique, but I love that our first official date still feels like us.

But it also feels like a new version of us. It’s in the way Hunter’s eyes linger on me, the way his voice softens when he says my name. It’s not just the warmth from the diner or the glow of the neon lights reflecting off the windows. It’s the way his hand brushes against mine when he reaches for the check, the way his smile holds secrets we’ve both been too scared to share. Electricity hums in the air, charging every glance and every word.

By the time we arrive at the bar, the parking lot is packed. Hunter has to park in the empty lot next door. We walk inside, hand in hand. The music is louder than normal, and the crowd is the largest we’ve seen in weeks.

“Want to grab a drink?” Hunter says, pulling me into his side.

“Maybe just water?” I say. “I’d love a margarita, but I’m still so full from dinner I think Don might not be a good idea.”

He gives me that lopsided smile I can never seem to resist. “Water it is.”

It’s wall-to-wall people, but Joe eventually catches sight of us and waves us over to the end of the bar. “Well, howdy, you two,” he says, shaking Hunter’s hand. “What can I get ya?”

Hunter tucks me into his side, something Joe most definitely does not miss, and says, “Just a water for us.”

Joe looks at Hunter’s hand possessively locked around my waist and back to me. He raises his eyebrows. It’s the same look I imagine my dad would give me if he were still here. I widen my eyes, silently begging Joe to be cool and not embarrass me.

“Are my eyes deceiving me,” Joe says, “or did y’all actually pull your heads outta the sand?”