Chapter 1 #3
I ended up buying a couple of printed scarves in rainbow colors for the girls, but when I went back to the bakery line, they weren’t there.
My chest tightened with worry for a moment, but then I heard Miranda’s laugh ring out.
I followed the sound and found her and Emily standing next to a guy who was holding a tray of brightly colored cupcakes and wearing a scowl.
He held out the tray like it was a ticking time bomb, and Miranda scooped up two cupcakes and said, “Thanks!”
“Whatever,” he muttered.
I joined the girls, and the guy held the tray out again. “Compliments of Gobble de Goose,” he said with a resigned air.
I had no idea what the fuck a Gobble de Goose was, but I took a cupcake because it honestly felt like if I refused, this guy would take it as a personal insult.
“This is Chase,” Miranda said brightly. “He works at the bakery.”
Chase glared at her like she’d just offered up his social security number.
“Good to meet you,” I said.
Another guy who looked identical to Chase—minus the scowl—ambled over. He was holding hands with a handsome guy with a light beard and long hair pulled back into a bun.
“Hey,” he said, shoving his brother’s shoulder gently.
Chase’s scowl flickered but stayed in place. “Hey.” Then, because his twin was looking at him expectantly, he said, “This is Cash, my brother. And this is Dr. Beardy McManBun, his boyfriend.”
“Mason,” Beardy McManBun corrected with an unbothered smile.
“Hi!” Miranda said. “I’m Miranda and this is Emily, my girlfriend. And this is Un—this is Granger, my…”
Her hesitation was awkward. Then it was weird.
“Her uncle,” I said as we did a round of handshakes. “Her actual uncle, not the kind that comes with air quotes.”
“Well, now we’re all thinking it,” Chase pointed out, because he was obviously an asshole.
“Ew,” said Miranda and I at the same time.
Cash snorted and helped himself to a cupcake.
“You’re a doctor?” I asked Mason in an attempt to change the subject.
“I’m a vet,” Mason said.
“Uncle Mason gave me a kitten!” a small voice piped up.
The little girl from the bakery line had joined us. She was still with the guy who’d been holding her hand, and she’d acquired someone else too—a young guy with a Ramones T-shirt and a rainbow bracelet.
“This is Wilder and his daughter Gracie,” Chase said after his brother elbowed him. “And Alex.”
“You guys all from around here?” I asked, taking note of the hand-holding between Cash and Mason, Gracie’s rainbow face paint, and the Goose Pride T-shirts on the rest of them.
“Yeah,” Wilder said with an easy grin. He was a good-looking guy. He nodded at the twins. “Used to live with these two, and now I live next door with my boyfriend. He’s running some bake sale stall for the school, so we kidnapped Alex instead, right, Gracie?”
She nodded. “I want to get cookies from the bake sale.”
“Oh, please,” Chase said. “Whatever Avery is selling, it’s gonna be crap compared to Gobble de Goose.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re dating the baker,” Mason said. “Besides, some people might like to support the community.”
“Some people are idiots,” Chase said.
I took a bite of my cupcake. It was incredible. “Oh wow. This is amazing!”
“Told you,” Chase said with something that almost passed for a smile.
“Anyway,” Wilder said. “Used to live with the twins in my best friend Danny’s house, moved next door, and now Alex lives with Danny instead. He’s the neighbor from hell.”
“Started the lawn mower once at eight on a Saturday morning,” Alex confirmed with an eye roll. He said to Miranda, “Are you guys local?”
“We both go to Lassiter,” Miranda said, and she and Emily started talking about classes and asking what the guys did for work or school—it was all work, despite all of them except Mason looking young enough for college—and what things there were to do and see around town.
I felt a little better about leaving the girls in Goose Run now they’d met some people who seemed okay.
Seemed safe, I supposed I meant. Ironically, it helped that Chase had a face like thunder—it stopped me thinking they were too nice and the girls were about to get swept up in a cult or something.
I waited for a lull in the conversation and said, “Okay, monster, text me to let me know when you want me to pick you up tomorrow, okay?”
Miranda gave me a quick hug. “Thanks, Uncle G.”
“Also on the no list,” I said and turned to leave.
Which was right when I was attacked by an angry goose.
And amid all the yelling and flailing and frantically beating wings, I must have had a break from reality because I could have sworn that the person striding toward me in cowboy boots, short shorts, a rainbow tee, and a battered Stetson was the one person I’d never expected to see again. It was impossible.
But there was no mistaking that messy dark hair, that wide mouth and expressive face that could turn on a dime from serious to ludicrous and often did what felt like a hundred times a minute.
And mostly, those hazel eyes that were narrowed to a laser focus and had always been able to pin me to the spot in a heartbeat.
It was Bobby Merritt.