Annabeth giggled and Josie sighed. “Lola—”
Lola looked back and forth between the younger women. “What?” She waved a dismissive hand at Josie. “Dara should know what she’s got to look forward to. It’s plain to see Eli’s sweet on her.”
Dara squeaked this time.
“Lola.” Josie couldn’t help but laugh then.
“Fine, fine.” The older woman went back to rolling out a new batch of dough, grinning from ear to ear.
After a few minutes of companionable silence, Dara asked, “Where’s Dr. Boone taking you tonight, Miss Stephens? Not much to do around here, unless you’re playing bingo.”
Lola nodded. “And no offense to you, sweetie, but you two are too young to be hanging out with my crowd tonight.”
“What?” Annabeth tossed some flour at Josie. “You’re going on a date?”
“Yes.” Josie smiled. “I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing. He just said to wear something nice.”
Lola looked thoughtful. Dara and Annabeth looked excited. So why did she feel petrified?
“Nice?” Lola tapped her chin with one finger. “Hmm, sounds like he’s got something planned.”
Josie nodded. That was why she’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, wondering what Hunter had planned—what he was thinking. No answers were coming, so she’d climbed out of bed and started baking. At 3:00 a.m. She stared down at her flour-covered shirt. “I’ll definitely need a shower.”
Dara giggled. “Don’t worry, Miss Stephens. You’re one of the prettiest women I’ve ever met.”
“Isn’t she?” Annabeth smiled.
“And just as nice on the inside, too,” Lola agreed. “Where it matters most.” Lola looked at the young girl. “Don’t you let anyone tell you different, either, Dara, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Josie nodded in silent agreement with Lola. If her father was man enough to make an honest woman out of Lola Worley, she’d finally have the mother she always wanted. Lots of advice, love and willingness to lend a hand when needed. Nothing like her flesh-and-blood, look-but-don’t-touch mother.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about what you wear,” Lola said. “It’s clear that boy’s got it bad for you.”
Lola’s words were hardly comforting. It’s not that she didn’t want Hunter to have feelings for her... Wait, she didn’t want that. Did she?
Dara stopped piping icing onto the cookie and said, “That’s true, Miss Worley. The way he looks at you, Miss Stephens.” She sighed. “Like a present on Christmas morning. It’s like he wants to talk to you, you know? Really talk to you. Like he has something important to say, but he’s too nervous.”
Josie stared at the girl, torn. Did Hunter really look at her like that?
“He’s always looked at her like that.” Annabeth laughed. “He looks like that when he talks about her.”
Lola arranged a fresh tray of cookies on the cooling rack. “It’s the way a man should look at the woman he loves—”
“Lola,” Josie cut her off. “I think... I think I’ll wear a dress. Maybe?”
“He’s not the only nervous one.” Lola nudged Dara.
Dara glanced at Josie. “Is that normal? To feel all...” The girl shrugged. “Out of sorts, in a good way, of course. Like you can’t stop thinking about them. Even when you want to stomp on their foot and never talk to them again?” Dara added with a hint of agitation.
It took a lot to keep Josie from laughing.
“Oh, most definitely,” Lola agreed. “The more irate they make you, the fiercer the love is.”
“Within reason, Dara,” Josie offered. “Fireworks are fun, but they can be destructive.”
The others looked at her again, this time without the smiles.