Page 55 of The Score We Never Settled

Almost the same color as my favorite, but not quite as deep, and definitelyneveron my side.

“Afternoon, ladies,” she beams with a smile so damn big I can never tell if she’s faking or genuinely happy.

Adeline Kerrigan is just another one of Magnolia Ridge’s belles around here. She used to run with Zoe on their mission to become the damn poster child for what every woman here should want to be.

She could never get me on the bandwagon. I was too busy chasing her brother down, and youth group kept me busy at church most of the time. I didn’t have an interest in kissing people’s asses in town and volunteering at every single town event imaginable.

Like the Bluegrass and Porch Jam Night she came up with. I could almost kill her with the idea of everyone pulling out their instruments and having a damn concert in the middle of Town Square.

Dogs howl in pain at the music that comes from that damn night.

“Oh, Adeline, honey.” Agnes beams with a gentle onceover. “How in God’s name do ya always look so darn pretty?”

Oh, for the love of God and everything holy…

Annoyance ripples through me because, c’mon, seriously? I bring this woman the best pies she’s ever had in her life, and they out-trump me in the looks department?

This place is rigged.

“Oh, Agnes, stop,” Adeline coos with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I just threw on whatever my hand touched in the closet.”

K, that’s crap.

And definitely not the truth.

Adeline is a damn Southern goddess. She’s in this beautiful ivory-colored dress that would probably have her on the gossip rack if it weren’t in lace.

The flowy hem reaches mid-thigh, emphasizing her brown cowboy boots that come just below her knees.

Country girl.

With some sexiness that wouldn’t be considered sexy in this town because of the material and the damn boots.

Meanwhile, I feel underdressed around her as always because Iliterallygrabbed the first dress my hand fell on, andit’s just a simple pink floral one that has different patterned squares on it.

Like a quilt.

I look like a damn quilt compared to her.

Shit.

“Layla Jean,” Adeline quips, looking over the dessert tables. “I see you didn’t disappoint, as always.”

Oh, but I have.

Rat.

Adeline and I weren’t the closest of friends growing up; we never ran in the same circles, so to speak, even though this town is less than a thousand people.

However, when she snitched on me with her brother, I’ve never treated her the same after that.

I mean, I get it’s her brother, clearly. However, if she knows the story, she knows her brother. And she’s fully aware our relationship was rough on me, he was never here, and I have and had every right to move on.

Except she sided with him, broke girl code in a way, and acts like she did nothing at all.

However, it’s not lost on me.

It’ll never be lost on me.