Say You'll Marry Me

Logan shut the truck door and turned to face Grant with a wry grin. “I probably shouldn’t have done it, but that woman baits me every time, and I just couldn’t help myself.”

“I heard what she said, and I don’t blame you one bit. Maybe next time she’ll think twice about being such a snob.”

“I doubt it. She’s been like that to my family all my life.”

Funny thing was, Walker had grown up with money and been just like the Perskys back in high school. Since moving back to Redemption last spring, he’d done a complete one-eighty, and from what Logan had heard, was getting back on his feet after a financial downturn of his own.

“What’s her problem?” Grant asked.

“Long time feud between her husband and my grandf

ather. Bob Persky wanted to buy my family’s land way back when, but my grandfather, and then my father, refused to sell. Little by little, a lot of it went to the Dolinskis, which pissed them off even more. Of course, Edna doesn’t know the real deal between me and Joy yet, so she doesn’t know they’ll still get their chance at the sheriff’s sale.”

Walker gave a solemn nod, because of course he knew the story of the fake engagement from his real fiancée, Jenny. “You’ve exhausted your options with the bank?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you could talk to Wes Carter. I hear—”

Logan held up a hand. “Been there, done that. No dice.”

“Sorry, man.”

He shrugged and flipped his keys in his hand as he glanced down the sidewalk. “Not much I can do about it now. Not much I could do about it ever.” Except there was something he needed to look into yet. “I gotta get going, but can we keep that little scene back there between us? I don’t want Joy getting the wrong idea.”

Especially if she was second guessing everything between them.

“I’m not the one you need to worry about. That was way too good for the kid at the register not to share. That little scene was probably the highlight of his month.”

He glanced back toward the pharmacy with a grimace. Of course the story was going to get out no matter what, and all Joy would likely hear was he’d stocked up on condoms. A whole hell of a lot of condoms.

Smart move, genius.

Well, short of telling her himself, there was nothing he could do about it now. Employing the two birds, one stone scenario again, it’d been worth it to shut Edna up for once, and he was sure to find out where he and Joy stood.

In response to Grant’s point, he played on the fake relationship thing. “Coming from him, it’s just part of the gossip mill around Redemption. Jenny telling Joy, after hearing it from you? That’s a whole different story.”

Grant chuckled. “I see your point. I won’t mention a thing.”

“Thanks.” He turned for the library as he said, “Catch ya later.”

“Hold up a sec.”

Logan swung back to face the shorter guy again.

Walker cast a look around as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I just wanted to say, what you’re doing to help Joy with her grandma, that’s pretty cool. I know I was a dick back in school, so maybe this doesn’t mean shit coming from me, but I respect the hell out of you for being there for her in a tough time. All of us who know the real story do.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable with the unexpected praise.

“I hope you figure out something with your farm,” Grant offered as he backed away in the direction of the apartment building he owned and had started managing last spring. “It’d be nice if you stuck around town.”

An hour later, Logan mulled over Walker’s words as he sat in the library. Procrastination had led to some research on dementia and an interesting documentary to mention to Joy. Now, he stared at the computer screen as the return of his headache mocked his foolish notions. Staying in Redemption would be nice, but as it turned out, the last chance he’d begun to allow a glimmer of hope for wasn’t a chance at all. Everything he’d just read online confirmed his initial dismal thoughts about selling his songs for profit.

One didn’t simply send a couple emails, get some interest, sell a song, and cash a check. Writers were a dime a dozen in Nashville, and many of them didn’t make a living on their music. Good wasn’t anywhere near good enough. Living outside the musical hub, with no experience or training, and not working the craft and networking connections every day, meant his chances of success were as probable as him winning the lottery without buying a ticket.

Seeing as how he was as likely to sell a song as win a multi-million dollar jackpot, he skipped the emails and stopped at the gas station for a Megabucks quick-pick on the way home.

Chapter 14