for a change. Lucky you, he’s quite a catch!”
Hannah studied the woman to try to decipher if she was being sarcastic, but her smile seemed genuine.
“My husband mentioned that Chad is interested in the chairman position,” she continued. “Between you and me, I think they could use some new blood. Keep coming to this stuff and he’ll be a shoo-in.”
“That’s great to hear—thanks for your support,” Hannah replied, feeling even more confident about her early campaign progress. “Chad’s really enjoying helping out today. We all are.”
They both looked over to where Chad was moving a wheelbarrow overfilled with bags of mulch. Cowboy hat on, sleeves rolled up, tanned arms popping from the exertion, he was a sight to behold. Even though it was a struggle to keep the heavy thing upright, he was still laughing and joking with everyone he passed.
“Wow.” Nina sighed quietly. She seemed shocked to realize that she’d said it out loud and quickly cleared her throat. “And of course, we’re delighted that you’re getting involved, too. Why don’t you join us for the wives’ weekly brunch?”
“Oh!” Hannah certainly hadn’t expected that. “A-are you sure that would be alright? Chad and I … I mean, it’s going well, but we’re certainly not married yet,” she stammered, feeling awkward.
Nina waved away her concerns. “No one will mind—they’ll just be pleased to have more company.”
“In that case, that would be lovely, thank you for the invitation,” Hannah said. She and Nina exchanged contact information, and then the other woman drifted away.
She kneeled and pulled the tray in front of her, ready to begin the next round of planting along the long brick walkway that they were lining with flowers. It was looking cheerful already, but there was still loads more to do. She glanced over at Aria and Mrs. O’Neill and went cold when she saw Tripp wandering over to them. She still seethed over the way that Tripp had tried to use Aria to get to her, leaving little presents on their porch thinking it would endear him to Hannah.
“No way,” she muttered to herself as she jumped up and headed over to them, despite the anxiety churning in the pit of her stomach. She scanned the crowd for Chad, but he was on the other side of the lawn talking and laughing with a bunch of the men. Doing exactly what he needed to do to help secure his spot as chairman, but not there to help her when she needed him. However, just knowing that he’d have her back if something went wrong gave Hannah the confidence to storm over to Tripp.
Mrs. O’Neill was pointing to a flat of pansies as Hannah got closer.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and slide that tray of flowers over to us?” Mrs. O’Neill said to Tripp.
“Why, of course, ma’am,” he said, touching the brim of his hat lightly. “Happy to help you and my favorite little gardener! Isn’t that right, Aria?” He started to kneel to catch the little girl’s eye, but Hannah pushed her way in front of him.
“I can help you, Mrs. O’Neill,” she said, wondering if she could get away with just ignoring Tripp. She didn’t want this to turn into a big confrontation.
Of course, he knew that about her—that she hated public scenes—and knowing him, he’d probably use it against her, forcing her to be polite and make conversation with him even when it was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Well, well, look who it is!” Tripp said, letting his eyes wander down Hannah’s body. She was glad she was wearing old shorts and a baggy tank top. “The medal winner herself. I saw you run that race last weekend.”
Hannah carried the flower tray to where Aria was kneeling beside Mrs. O’Neill and then walked a few steps away, like a mama antelope leading the lion away from her calf.
Tripp followed her. “You looked good. Fit as hell, girl. But you know what? You’d look better with me.”
She didn’t answer—just stood there silently and waited for him to be done.
“Chad doesn’t deserve you,” he continued in a low voice, moving closer to her. His eyes burned into hers, but she refused to look away. “He’ll find someone new before you know it.”
“That’s not how he is,” Hannah snapped back at him.
“Hannah, dear,” Mrs. O’Neill called out. “Could you bring me the shovel leaning up against the wall by you? There’s a root I need to dig up.”
“Of course.” She grabbed the shovel and stomped