Page 32 of Tennessee Trouble

Thanks, dude…

“So, what do I do?”

“I’d start with finding a place to sleep tonight,” Milo quips. “As for the rest of it, I say agree to what the sister wants and make yourself look like a hero. But what do I know? You’re talkin’ to the guy who accidentally fell for his best friend’s sister when he was supposed to be watching out for her.”

“Ha.”

I do need to find another hotel though. As nice as the Smoky Spruce Lodge was, if I’m gonna be here a couple of nights, I’m not sure that’s where I want to be staying. I think I drove past a little B&B in town, so maybe I’ll head there. If not, I might be camping.

“I’ll think about the tour sponsorship,” I tell him.

“And dream girl?”

“No idea.”

“Sounds like you’re off to a good start then.”

“Something like that.”

Promising I’ll keep him updated, we say our goodbyes. I toss my phone on the seat next to me, firing up my truck, ready to head I don’t even know where. It is lunchtime, and food would be a good idea. There’s lots of little cafés and restaurants in downtown Trouble.

And I think I know just the place.

10

LINDEE

A massive pile of nachos slides across the bar toward me, the cheese, meat, fajita veggies, guacamole, and sour cream threatening to slide right off the tower of chips as the plate scrapes across the wood. I can hear the sizzle of the ingredients against the hot plate through the loud conversation filling Taco ’Bout Trouble.

“What’s this?” I ask, looking up at my best friend on the other side of the bar.

“Nachos.”

No shit…

“I ordered a margarita. Extra large.”

April levels me with a look, her eyes as hard as the line her lips are pressed into. Oh boy.

“You’re going to eat your feelings instead. It’s too early for margs.”

Too early for margs? Who is this and what did they do with my best friend?

In all the years I’ve been friends with April—which is a lot, but let’s not do the math—I’ve never heard her claim it was too early for margaritas. Never. This is the girl who insisted we start every morning of our senior spring break cruise with a margarita. Coincidentally, that’s also how we started the morning of her wedding.

In the world of April, it’s always time for a margarita.

“Come again?”

“You heard me,” she doubles down.

“I did,” I admit. “But that doesn’t mean I understand.”

The margaritas at Taco ’Bout Trouble are legendary. Like everything else in this place, they’re made from scratch, from Rosario’s super-secret recipe. They pack a punch, and because of that, Rosario was forced to implement a limit of two per person a number of years ago. She let April and me in on the secret ingredient after April and Rodrigo got married—a secret I should have seen coming.

Ol’ Reverend Moonshine.

“Boy trouble is an eat your feelings situation, not drink them.”