Feels Like Home (Southern Bride 5)

I posted the pale pink dress and the light blue romper. Then I captioned the photos.

Going out on a date tonight, y’all. Yeah, it’s been a while. Which outfit?

Now I would sit back and wait for the votes to come in. It didn’t take long to see which was going to be the winner.

“The blue jumper it is,” I said with a smile.

I slipped the pink dress off and then stepped into the jumper. I paired it with simple white dangle earrings and a silver necklace my mama had given me. A cross with a small heart in the middle of it.

Another snapshot, and up it went on my Instagram stories.

The winner! I wrote as I posted it and then glanced at the time. I was meeting Gus at El Torito Gril for dinner. He had asked me out months ago, and I had politely declined. When I stopped at the bank yesterday, though, I decided to take him up on the offer. When he had mentioned going out on our date today, a part of me wanted to say no. After all, I normally sat on the sofa and watched Pride & Prejudice every year on this date and then cried myself to sleep because I would never find my Mr. Darcy.

That wasn’t true—I had found him, and I had stupidly let him slip away all because of my foolish pride.

Well, I wasn’t doing that again this year. Especially with Anson back in town. I wouldn’t give him the benefit of knowing I was sitting at home.

One more look at myself in the mirror and I smiled. “Here I come, Gus.”

An hour later, and I was still waiting on Gus as I sat and sipped my margarita. Finally, he arrived. Nearly thirty minutes late. I spent the time texting Mindy, ready to walk out and leave when she convinced me to give him a few more minutes.

“Hey, Bristol. I’m so sorry I was late. I got stuck at the bank.”

I smiled. “No worries. I was about to call you when I realized I never got your cell number.”

Gus sat down, picked up his menu, and then looked at me. “I don’t have a cell phone.”

“Did you lose it?” I asked.

He laughed as he studied the menu. “No, I mean, I don’t have a cell phone at all.”

I laughed, thinking he was joking because hello, it was the twenty-first century and all, but as he glanced up at me, the look on his face said he was not kidding.

My laughter faded. “Wait, you’re being serious. You don’t have a cell phone? Like…at all?”

He shook his head. “No, I do not.”

I was positive my face was one big confused, scrunched-up blob. “How do you get messages?”

With a frown, he replied, “I have an answering machine at home.”

I would have given anything to have seen the expression on my face when he said answering machine. Any. Thing.

“I didn’t realize they still made those…because you’d need a landline for that to actually work,” I said with a chuckle. He didn’t find my joke funny.

“They do, yes. I have a landline, obviously. And if you ever need to get a hold of me, you can always call the bank.”

I nodded. “Do you check your social media on your laptop then?”

He looked up from his menu again. “I don’t do social media. Do you?”

I nearly laughed. “Um, yes. I have a pretty large following on Instagram. Over half-a-million people.”

Gus stared at me like I was some sort of puzzle he suddenly realized he would have to figure out.

“Is that so? What in the world could you possibly have to talk about with half a million strangers? They’re all probably trying to steal your identity.”

I stared at him in shocked silence and realized my mouth was hanging open when he reached across the table and closed it with his finger.

“Sorry. I guess I’m not used to people saying they don’t have cell phones or social media.”

“We exist, I promise you.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling like this date was not off to a great start.

“Again, what do you talk to these people about?”

With a shrug, I replied, “Everything. Anything. I take a lot of pictures of things and post them. I have a few paid ads I do but only products I like and use.”

He nodded.

“I just got done doing a bedroom makeover and shared that process.”

Now he looked horrified. “You showed a half-a-million people your bedroom?”

I nodded. “Yes. I show them lots of things in my house. Like this new rug I got! It is so cool. You can peel it off and then throw it in the washing machine!”

His brows pulled in tight. “Why would you need to do that?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a half-shrug. “In case the dog got it dirty.”

His frown deepened. “You have a dog?”