Chapter 9 Sloane #2
Mia giggles uncontrollably. “You’re so slow! You didn’t even see me coming.”
Max adds, “You can’t catch me, Uncle Jesse!”
Lucy simply tosses her head back and bellows with laughter.
Pickle is right in the middle of it all, zipping between their feet and wagging his little tail like his life depends on it. His tiny legs can’t keep up, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.
Mia lets out another high-pitched giggle as Jesse swings her around, while Max, not to be outdone, grabs onto Jesse’s leg, trying to stop him from moving. Lucy, meanwhile, is in the middle of a fit of giggles, clutching at Jesse’s arms as if he’s the funniest thing on the planet.
“I’ll get him!” Penny insists, hands on her hips, glaring at the French bulldog who’s darting around their legs like a tiny, furry whirlwind.
Pickle’s ears flop with every attempted chase, his tongue lolling out as if he’s been given the most extraordinary mission of his life.
Penny reaches down, grabbing Pickle by the collar as he tries to slip past her, his small frame squirming in protest. “Come on, Pickle, calm down.”
Karl shakes his head in mock exasperation, unable to suppress the grin spreading across his face.
“We’re gonna need a stretcher for Jesse at this rate,” he jokes, tossing a glance over at Leo, who’s already chuckling under his breath. “You’re gonna pull a muscle, man.”
Jesse glances over, holding Mia and Max up by the arms, his grin never fading. “Well, I was just about to have lunch,” he announces, completely unfazed. “And I was thinking of heading over to Ink & Iron. You guys want to come?”
“I think it’s time their fathers took a shift, yes,” Ivy laughs, pushing me gently. “You up for it, Sloane?”
“Let’s do it,” I say with a grin, trying not to sound too eager.
But I am. I want to get to know the men who’ve captured Ivy’s heart, and I’d be lying if I didn’t also want to soak up some of this energy.
We make our way down the street, the crisp air doing wonders to clear my head.
The kids, having temporarily forgotten about their chaotic game with Jesse, are bouncing ahead of us, their energy seemingly endless.
Penny’s trailing behind, still trying to keep Pickle in check. He’s as stubborn as ever, but she’s got a good hold on him.
The bakery we pass has an intoxicating scent of fresh bread and pastries. Olivia raises an eyebrow at me, her stomach rumbling in unison with mine. “You ready for lunch?”
I nod eagerly. “I’ll never turn down a good sandwich.”
“Trust me,” Ivy chimes in, winking at me. “You want to get the turkey with cranberry sauce. It’s like a little Thanksgiving in a sandwich.”
I laugh, but the idea of that combination is tempting. As we walk inside, the smell of freshly baked bread envelopes us, and I immediately feel at home.
The bakery is small, quaint, and cozy. Just like everything else in Coyote Glen.
A woman behind the counter, clearly familiar with Ivy, greets us with a smile. “The usual, Ivy?”
“You know it.” Ivy grins, slipping into her familiar role. “And extra cranberry for me.”
“Got it.” The woman’s eyes flick to me, and she nods politely. “What can I get for you?”
I step up to the counter, scanning the array of options. The sandwiches look mouthwatering. “I’ll take the turkey and cranberry, thanks.”
“I’ll have the same.” Olivia smiles at the woman behind the counter before turning to Karl. “You up for it, big guy?”
Karl nods, his gaze softening as he looks over at Olivia.
“Yeah. Same for me. But add some extra bacon.” He leans in, in a mock whisper. “Gotta keep up my muscle mass, you know?”
Leo snickers beside him, muttering, “You could stand to skip the bacon and just move more.”
The kids, having picked out their own treats—cookie monster cupcakes and gingerbread men—are bouncing on their heels, impatient for the order to be ready.
Penny stands off to the side, patiently holding Pickle’s leash, though I can tell she’s trying to hide her amusement at her family’s antics.
Once our sandwiches are packed up and the kids are happily munching on their sweets, we head toward Ink & Iron, the tattoo studio a few blocks down.
It’s hard to miss, with its bold black-and-white exterior splashed with vibrant ink, featuring a mural of a roaring lion. The front window displays colorful flash tattoos, and I can see the faint outline of a client on a chair inside.
We step inside, and the noise from the buzzing tattoo machines fills the space. The atmosphere is dark but warm, with exposed brick walls, industrial lighting, and the faint scent of ink and coffee wafting through the air.
Behind the counter, I see the twins. Mitchell and Timothy. Ivy has sent me photos of them, but they look way better in real life.
“Ivy!” Mitchell lights up and immediately stops sketching. “How are you?”
As Timothy sits the children down and calms them for a moment as they eat their treats, I see Freddie exit from the back.
“Ooh, you must be Sloane,” he exclaims excitedly. “Ivy told me we might be meeting you today. Working for the band at Meadow Creek Retreat, right?”
Freddie’s grin is broad, and there’s something effortlessly charming about him, like he’s been practicing how to flash that smile in the mirror for years.
His eyes gleam with mischief, and his style is just as polished. Tattooed sleeves peeking out from a tailored leather jacket. He’s clearly the life of the party, his energy infectious.
I can see why Ivy loves him, too.
“Yup, that’s me,” I reply, trying to keep up with his enthusiasm. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Only good things, I hope,” he winks.
I nod, glancing around at the cozy disarray of the shop.
It feels oddly like home. Just like the rest of the town. How is it possible for one place to be so… everything?