Like You Love Me (Honey Creek 1)

“Sounds like you have some layers to peel back there.”

“You mean in therapy? Probably.”

I smile at him. My insides warm as he returns it.

A comfortable silence descends upon us. While he takes out his phone and busies himself with a text, I consider what he just said. I realize that we aren’t that different. I, too, have layers to peel back, and they aren’t that dissimilar from his. Not really. Not when you boil it down.

He sits up and lifts a fry in the air. “If I can get the job at Montgomery Farms, that will help.”

“Why?”

He ponders this before answering. Shifting his weight in his seat, he sighs. “Because it will be something I did on my own that my father can’t criticize. At all.”

“Why would he criticize you? You’re successful from what I can tell.”

He gives me a slight grin. “He thinks I’m an idiot for going into veterinary medicine to start with. He equates it to some small-town, small-mind thing because of Pap and that I should’ve been a heart surgeon like him—something worthy of a McKenzie.”

I furrow a brow. “Being a vet is a really honorable thing.”

He shrugs. “He hates that I was fired. Didn’t even listen as to why. He also thinks I’m an idiot for breaking off my engagement, and he loathes the fact that I’m here and not working in some half-assed clinic in Phoenix just so I’m employed.”

“Well, being employed is kind of a good thing,” I tease.

“True. But I want to make an actual step to something better. Not simply scurry around from one job to another. If I can just get this job in Florida, he won’t be able to say a word about it. It’s the most prestigious company in the country, maybe the world.”

I take a bite of my sandwich. “When will you know if you get it?”

“Soon, I hope.”

“What would you do?”

His eyes light up, a twinkle shining in the depths of his irises. “I’d be working at a rescue center near Orlando. My mom and I went there when I was a little kid, and we both fell in love with it. I told her then that I’d work there someday.” He smiles at the memory. “They do wildlife studies and rehabilitation. Their community outreach is first class.”

I watch him come alive. It’s clear this means something to him. He looks how I feel when I think of the Honey House.

My heart tugs as I watch him mull over his plight. I know if Montgomery Farms would just talk to him, they’d hire him. He’s passionate and intelligent. He’s kind and funny. They’d be crazy not to snap him right up.

“I really hope you get the job, Holden.” I take a bite of my fry. “Do you think you have a good chance?”

He shrugs. “They’re super picky about who they hire and have this insane vetting process—pun intended—to get accepted,” he says with a grin. “But if you get hired, they literally pay for you to have all of these extra qualifications and opportunities, so I get why they are really choosy. The wait is just nerve-racking, you know? Especially since I might not have a great reference from my last job and now have a new living arrangement.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” I offer.

“Will it, though? Or will they look at me and be like, ‘Hey, this guy was doing great but lost his job and fiancée in the course of a month. He’s probably going through something that we don’t want to be a part of.”

“Well . . . that does sound bad when you put it like that.”

We both laugh, the sound of our voices mixing together over our fish.

“I’ll give you a reference,” I joke. “I’m a great personal-reference giver. I gave one to Debbie’s sister, Donna, and she got a job at the bank. Probably because of me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was because of you. Absolutely.”

“Whatever. It probably was. I come across as genuine and a really salt-of-the-earth kind of person,” I say, popping a fry into my mouth. “Besides, we’ve basically been engaged since you asked me to marry you with a giant candy ring.”

He laughs. “I might need you to be my fiancée for a while longer. To convince Montgomery I’m a good guy and that he should hire me.”

“I’d have him eating out of the palm of my hand.” I wink. “You’d probably be vice president of the company before it was over.”

Holden takes a bite of his sandwich and watches me over the top of it. There’s something about the way he looks at me with a twinkle in his eye that makes me squirm.

In a good way.

I think.

CHAPTER FIVE

HOLDEN

Well, there he is.”

I wonder if it’s a thing in Tennessee to greet people before they even get in the door. Yesterday, it was Dottie. Today, it’s Joe—the man who apparently changes the floor mats.