whip out their cameras and track our progress from The Cowherd’s front porch to Logan’s truck.
“Freaking camera crews following you everywhere,” Blake says through the open back window. “You love every minute of those flashbulbs in your face,” he teases Logan.
Logan turns his head away so the cameramen can’t get a clear shot of him.
They may not be able to see Logan’s face, but I sure can. And the stress and fatigue is written all over his face.
“Wait here,” I say before I walk over to Jon and the unknown cameraman.
“Hey y’all,” I say. “You know what? Logan’s not out with his bride-to-be right now. He’s with me. So if I were you, I would save my film for the moments he and Gigi are actually together. Do you think Logan and Gigi’s fans want to see him with another woman?” I say. “You guys need to shape this story. You have the control here. Use it wisely, boys.”
Both men slowly put their cameras down.
I walk back to Logan, who opens the back door for me and then gets into the driver’s seat.
“All set,” I say as I jump into the truck.
“What did you say to them?” Blake asks as Logan turns the key in the ignition. “I’m both impressed and afraid to know.”
“I’m not the heroine in Logan’s story,” I say simply. “So as long as you’re with me, you’re safe from the cameras.”
Logan’s eyes fly to mine. “Not the heroine?”
“Not your heroine. Don’t be fooled—I’m a heroine in my own story. Apparently, you just aren’t a part of it.”
Logan keeps his eyes locked on me as he puts the truck in reverse, and if I hadn’t pulled my gaze away to glance behind us and warn him, we would have hit the back fence for sure.
Chapter Eight
Logan parks on the side of an empty street in town, and the four of us walk toward the fishing hole at the end of the creek, right by the edge of the lake. We run into Ginny on our way.
“I can’t believe our wedding’s this Saturday,” Ginny says to me in a quiet voice as we trail the guys through the woods.
“So exciting!” I squeeze her arm.
She gives the smallest smile ever, and I ask her if she still feels uncertain.
“I don’t know. Is that what dread feels like?”
My heart lurches. “What’s going on, Gin?”
She shrugs. “Maybe this is all my mama’s dream, anyway. Or her nightmare.” She laughs. “One way or the other, I think it’s hers. I can’t stop it now, anyway. There’s too much at stake to back out.”
“Gin, no there isn’t.” I slow even more and turn to look at her. “You can still change your mind. You can always change your mind.”
“Nickel and I texted all afternoon.” She smiles. “He sends me chords for songs I like to play. I’m learning so much.”
“That’s great. So maybe—”
“But my daddy just called me to say how proud he is of me for sticking with Dave.” She kicks her white sandals into the dirt path until they scuff. “He’s very traditional. He believes a mother and father should always stay together for the sake of the kids, no matter what.”
“I understand,” I say as we follow Logan’s flashlight through the dark wooded path. “But that’s not always realistic.”
“We’re all fishing tonight.” Logan opens the pail of bait and hands me a pole and line as we reach the water. “We’ll see who can catch the most. I’ll start the bonfire up. Blake, you want to get the chicken ready for the grill?”
I catch the first catfish. Ginny cheers, and I reel it in, happy with myself. Logan catches one next, and he puts his fish next to mine in the bucket.
I catch two more even though I feel myself fading.
“Dave!” Ginny shouts. “Get off my line!”
Dave laughs as he tries to dislodge Ginny’s line from her pole by poking at it. Ginny swats at him, and the two of them start laughing.
Blake calls to me from the grill, and I put down my pole and go help him.
It feels nice to be here without Gigi around. It feels just like it’s always been—even though it’s not.
When Blake disappears back to the truck for more charcoal, Logan and I sink down together on the grass.
“So I sold a painting today,” he says as he digs at the ground with a stray stick.
I sit up straight and stare at him. “You did not!”
“Yeah, I did.” He grins. “To a gallery in