Chapter 18 #3
“Wait ’til next August when the summer people leave and she has to clean up their abandoned-pet messes. All sorts of animals end up on leashes. And then there are the pink bunnies at Easter...”
“Mel?”
“Mel Chassi? Remember her?”
“The woman who managed the horses at camp?”
“You do remember her. Yep. She runs an animal sanctuary now. Great place to kennel your dog, too, if you go out of town. The kennel helps fund the sanctuary.”
“Good for her.”
“It’s right next to the place we’re buying.”
“You’re moving?”
The casual way they spoke about different town topics really made people lose interest. Maybe being boring really was the best way to live your own life, without prying eyes.
If so, his goal was to be a real snoozer.
“We are.”
“Luke! Your food! Remember food?” Wolf shouted, plopping his omelet and Harriet’s waffle and bacon in front of their seats, the strips of pig mercifully straight. Out-of-towners got theirs twisted into a heart.
You knew you were a local when Wolf didn’t bother.
Harriet had lost interest in their conversation and was coloring away happily, abandoning the drawing to grab a pitcher of maple syrup and begin pouring with abandon. A covert look up at Luke made it clear she was about to have a waffle floating in a lake of the sweet stuff.
“You might want to rescue that poor waffle from drowning,” Kylie joked, but she wasn’t–not really. She was on at ten tonight, and they both knew what sugared-up kids were like.
“Want to sit with us?” he asked, knowing he was feeding the gossip flames, but not caring.
A slightly wild, anxious look crossed Kylie’s face as their eyes met. She held up her bag. “Thanks, but I’m headed home. Been up early. My sister left at the crack of dawn, and I need a nap before work.”
“See you tonight, then,” he said with a smile.
Eyebrows climbed into the rafters.
As Kylie departed and Luke sat down again, Greta came over, but his eyes were on a part of Kylie's body that definitely fit in here.
Her heart-shaped–
“Tonight?” Greta asked, insinuation in her voice. “Kylie's coming over tonight?”
“I work the night shift, Greta. I need a babysitter.”
“Mmm hmm. And she spends the night?”
“Yes.”
“In your bed?”
That stopped him short. The idea of Kylie in his bed was… tantalizing.
And uncomfortable.
Like this conversation.
“What you’re implying is never going to happen,” he said softly. “Legally, I mean. She’s my employee. There’s a clause in her employment contract that says there’s to be no fraternization between me and the nanny.”
Greta gasped. “Why would you ever have such a thing?”
“To protect us both.”
“Huh.”
“So we can’t date, Greta,” he whispered. “But please–this is confidential. I’d hate for anyone to find out.”
“Of course. I won’t tell!” Chiding eyes met his. “You know me. I’m as tight as a sealed drum when it comes to secrets.”
“Right.”
He also knew that was a lie. They both did.
“She only has to cover night shifts until Mom and Dad get back.”
“I hope they’re having fun in my home country. I am so jealous.”
“Weren’t you there last summer?”
She gave a sad smile. “For my sister’s funeral.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“Eh. I don’t want to talk about death. I want to talk about new beginnings.”
Wolf grabbed a long piece of chalk and began erasing the big blackboard behind the counter. The door opened and Dotty Chen, the town librarian, walked in, smiled at Luke, and looked back behind her, outside.
“Didn’t I just see Kylie in here?” she asked him as she looked at the bakery case, half paying attention to the food but more interested in his business.
“I give it two weeks,” he heard Wolf say to someone, but his attention was focused on his food. Harriet was dripping syrup all over the front of her pink turtleneck.
“One.”
“A month.”
What were they talking about?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Greta whisper something in Dotty’s ear. The librarian fiddled with her glasses, then replied quietly, but just loud enough that Luke could hear.
“Forbidden love is one of the most enduring stories in literature. And it always ends with the couple getting together.”
Her eyes cut over to Luke.
“Put me down for five dollars on New Year’s Eve. December 31.”
That’s when he realized Wolf had drawn a betting pool on the blackboard. A grid with what looked like – no.
Ninety squares?
And he knew exactly what–or who–they were betting on.
“You know it’s illegal to run a lottery that isn’t sanctioned by the state!” he called out to Wolf, who gave him a slick grin.
“At the rate we’re going, you’ll have to arrest half the town.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
To the sounds of snickers and guffaws, he ate the rest of his omelet, used his toast to mop up some of Harriet’s syrup, and finished his coffee.
And wondered what the odds really were.
As he and Harriet stood at the register to pay, horns began to honk outside, mayhem setting off his radar. Tossing a tip on the counter, he sprinted outside to find Mel running after the capybara, which was making a mad jog for freedom.
Why couldn’t the town lay bets on that?