Chapter 2 #2
“No, I am not okay! A freaking bald eagle attacks me with a snake. Then I get hit by a truck and a stick before being wrestled to the ground by a dog. And you!” Zoey pointed at Hazel. “You want me to move here permanently! Birds throw snakes at you here!”
“Sounds like a new town slogan.” A hatchback came to a stop next to our roadside spectacle.
“Everybody all right?” Garland Russell asked through his open passenger window.
He looked more excited than concerned. That could have to do with the fact that the wannabe journalist who reported town gossip on the neighborhood busybody app was recording us on his phone.
“Goose dropped a snake on Zoey’s head, and she ran into Gage’s truck, and now everyone’s mad,” Hazel summarized.
Garland chuckled. “Classic Goose. Classic Zoey.”
The woman in question wrenched free of my grip and threw her hands in the air. “I’d like to live somewhere where that is not classic Zoey.”
“Maybe you should move,” I suggested.
“That we agree on,” Zoey announced.
“Want me to call Chief Bishop?” Garland offered hopefully.
“No,” all three of us said in unison.
Last year, my brother Levi had been elected chief of police against his will—with the help of me and the rest of our siblings.
A fact that was still entertaining to the entire family.
Levi was reluctantly performing his duties, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he wielded them to get some kind of well-deserved revenge on each of us.
He’d already gotten to arrest Cam last summer.
And I wasn’t about to give him an opportunity to take aim at me.
“All righty then. I’ll just post my story and be on my way.” With an unnecessary flourish, Garland clicked a button on his phone screen and drove off.
I turned my attention back to Zoey. “You sure you’re not hurt?” I asked, this time managing not to bite her head off. Barely.
“Only my boobs, my tailbone, my pride, and my emotional well-being,” she grumbled, brushing at the dirty paw prints on the lapels of her wool coat.
She was always dressed twice as nice as anyone else in the room.
Today she had on a blazer and a fitted top with the kind of neckline that could keep a man up all night.
She wore tailored shorts over torn black tights and suede knee-high boots caked with dirt.
“Text from Cammy,” my truck’s sound system announced to everyone within earshot. “‘Why did Garland just report you’re feeling up my wife’s best friend in the middle of the road? And where the fuck is my fucking spray foam?’ Would you like to reply?”
“Aww! He called you his wife,” Zoey crooned to Hazel.
The woman was acting like nearly getting hit by a car was an everyday event. Another reason to stay far, far away from her.
“Text from Livvy. ‘More importantly where’s my fucking sandwich?’ Would you like to reply?”
“Yeah. ‘I’m busy. Fuck you both.’”
“And that’s just a delightful slice of the family life I’m marrying into,” Hazel said cheerfully, juggling both dogs and their leashes. “Are you able to soldier on to the bookstore, Zo? Or do you want to go back to the lodge and pretend this day never happened?”
“Bookstore,” Zoey said with bitter determination as she brushed at the dead leaves and dirt stuck to her tights.
“I’ll drive you,” I said. I’d like nothing more than to leave her there in the middle of the road, but knowing Zoey, she’d find a way to get crushed by a falling tree or cause a multivehicle accident on the quietest road in the county.
“You know, that’s how Cam and I met. Goose brought us together,” Hazel reminded us.
My brother had witnessed the eagle dive-bombing Hazel and Zoey in their convertible, causing them to make a memorable first impression by crashing into Story Lake’s welcome sign.
“Now here we are with another eagle-related catastrophe, and another Bishop brother rides to the rescue. It’s like we’re starting a new tradition. ”
“No. A tradition is making the same pie every Thanksgiving, not a bald eagle attempting murder,” Zoey pointed out.
Hazel tossed her hair and opened the back door of the truck for the dogs. “I’m an author. You have to let me make up pretend patterns in real life.”
Zoey opened her mouth to argue, but I had reached my limit.
“Just get in the damn truck,” I muttered, yanking open the passenger door for her.
Zoey shot murder eye darts at me. “Don’t expect a thank-you for being a shit waffle.”
I blew out a breath between my teeth and started counting backward again. I was the nice guy, damn it. She just managed to drive me crazy every time we were in the same room. “Look. You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were hurt or worse.” I reached out and tugged a twig out of her curls.
Zoey exhaled. “It’s fine.”
“But you should know better than to do something so stupid—”
Her eyebrows arched defiantly. “Stupid? Says the guy who fell off a roof the first time we met.”
“It was a ranch house. And a bush broke my fall, not a half-ton pickup truck,” I pointed out, feeling defensive. It wasn’t stupidity that had knocked me off the roof. It was something a hell of a lot worse.
“Here’s an idea, Gage. Let’s play a game where you don’t say a damn word while you drive us to the bookstore and I reward you by not hiding frozen shrimp under your floor mats for you to find later.”
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Zoey Moody, impulsive, fiery redhead, was willing to do exactly that.
“Just because you had one bad experience with a bald eagle—”
Zoey whipped around to glare at Hazel in the back seat. “Two bad experiences. You’re forgetting the dead fish. And don’t get me started on the breaking and entering raccoon or the free-range pig.”
“I told you Rump Roast wasn’t chasing you. He just wanted your Fish Hook leftovers,” Hazel explained. “Besides, look at the progress you’re making with all this exposure therapy. A few months ago, a snake to the head would have put you in a coma. Admit it. Story Lake has been good for you.”
“Yay me,” Zoey said dryly.
“Gage, do you know of any rentals in town? Zoey needs a place,” Hazel said, changing the subject.
I opened my mouth.
Zoey held up a finger. “Uh-uh. One word and I buy an entire tray of shrimp.”
My heart rate had finally returned to normal, but my brain was still turning over all the alternative grim outcomes.
Every horrific what-if had me gripping the wheel tighter.
Just beyond the justifiable anger at her being that irresponsible simmered a few shadowy what-ifs.
What if I hadn’t seen her? What if I hadn’t stopped in time?
One thing was clear. Zoey and I had both gotten very lucky today, and only one of us cared.
The lake and town came into view, and I let the familiar sight of it calm me.
It was postcard-perfect with tidy storefronts facing the sparkling water.
We passed the new coffee shop and neighboring plant store that had taken up residence on Lake Drive.
Rumor had it there was a cheese shop going in on the town square.
More signs of Story Lake’s growth. Growth that Bishop Brothers Construction was reaping the benefits of.
The family business had gone from the brink of bankruptcy to a full schedule in less than a year.
My law practice was benefitting from the boom too.
I pulled a U-turn on the street and eased into a parking space in front of Stories, a white clapboard corner shop with an eclectic window display of volumes old and new.
“Ride’s over. Be more fucking careful,” I said, feeling pretty confident I was safe from the threatened seafood.
Zoey rolled her eyes. “Jesus. Lighten up, Gage. Nobody died.”
But on a different road, on a different day, someone had.
Hazel let out a strangled noise from the back seat between the dogs. A weighty silence fell over the cab. Even the dogs seemed to clue in to the discomfort.
Nana whimpered, and Zoey thumped her head against the back of her seat. “Shit. Haze, can you give us a minute?”
“Yep. Absolutely. I’ll just take my dog and—oops. Make that both dogs since Nana is already on the sidewalk. I’ll leave you to your…awkwardness,” she said, sliding out of the back seat.
Zoey waited until Hazel had closed the door, then covered her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry. That was a really stupid thing to say. I’m having a bad day and wasn’t filtering.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. You scared the shit out of me, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.” Even though she should be more fucking careful, I added silently.
“Seriously though. I wasn’t trying to throw Laura’s accident in your face. Sometimes words just come out of my mouth, and it’s like I have no control over them.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said dryly. “Maybe I’m slightly sorry for being an asshole, and I’m sorry Goose was being one too. Believe it or not, if he was sharing his lunch with you, it means he likes you.”
“Great. I graduate from boys pulling my pigtails on the playground to a bully romance with a bald eagle. That sounds about right for how things have been going. Anyway, thanks for the quick reflexes and the ride.” She reached for the door handle.
“I gotta collect my dog,” I said, nodding toward the store.
We both got out of the truck and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk. There was something about Zoey Moody that bothered me. Several somethings. I’d made a study of it since the first second I met her. One thing was for sure, I had to keep my guard up around her.
I slid my hands into my pockets. “Sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. My boobs feel like they went through a double mega mammogram, and my butt has felt better. But other than that, I seem to be intact.”
“Why are you looking for an apartment?” I asked, changing the subject to a topic safer than Zoey’s unmissable curves.
She sighed. “Long story involving me losing my apartment in New York. Which means I need to get my stuff out, which also means I’ll need a place bigger than a hotel room to store it all.
Plus, if I’m officially sticking around here indefinitely, I need to find a more cost-effective living situation. ”
She’d shuddered on the word indefinitely.
I grunted and tried not to notice the way the sun was hitting her hair, making the curls look like fire. I spent a lot of my time around Zoey trying not to notice things.
“There’s worse things than staying here, you know.” I gestured across the street to the gleaming waters of the lake.
“That’s exactly the kind of thing someone who’s never lived in New York would say. You sound like one of Hazel’s heroes trying to entice a heroine to succumb to the charm of small-town life.”
“Always figured I was hero material.”
She theatrically mimed vomiting.
I gestured toward the bookstore door. “After you.”