Chapter 37
People Are Going to Talk of the Town
FIONA
“Dr. Carson! Good morning!” Jean greets excitedly when I walk into the office.
It’s too early for anyone to be that chipper, I think.
“Hi Jean,” I mumble, gulping down more coffee as I walk past. I rode my bike to work this morning and stopped by Betty’s on the way—partly for the coffee, but mostly so I could say hi to Tre.
As has been the case so often recently, Connor Smith was parked in a booth toward the back of the diner, tapping away on his laptop.
His gaze lingered on me while I was waiting for my coffee, but there’s nothing I can do about that.
I don’t even really know if he suspects me at all, or if it’s just nerves making me think he might.
But I know he doesn’t have anything on me.
And the waters around Tre are so murky that I doubt he has anything usable there either.
Tre and I have been able to spend a lot more time together planning the festival over the past few weeks, but it’ll be nice when we’re finally able to stop hiding the fact that we’re together.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about what’ll happen once we do, but we’ve got to roll the dice at some point.
Soon, soon, soon, my brain chants, and the thought sends butterflies racing through me.
There are probably half the number of boxes in my office now, and it’s distinctly less claustrophobic.
I’ll have to find something else for Jean to do when she eventually finishes digitizing the files.
Maybe I could send her to get her medical billing certification.
She’d probably be good at arguing with the insurance companies…
“I had a great idea for the festival, and I wanted to run it by you! I know it’s a bit last minute, but it’s a really great idea!”
The festival. I want to sigh, but I can’t. Tre was right insofar as his assertion that he’d get a bunch of people involved went, but he totally undersold the amount of work we’d have to do. It has absolutely been a second job. It’s almost done, though. Nine more days.
“It’s really last minute, Jean,” I begin, but she interjects before I can tell her that we’ve finally got all the installation and booth locations set in stone, and we can’t go changing it again. For what feels like the hundredth time. Nine days before the festival.
“I know! But I was talking to Carol. She’s been volunteering at the cat rescue since—”
“Pussycats Galore?” I ask. It’s the best business name I’ve ever heard.
“Yes, she’s been volunteering there, and she said that the rescue is nearly full and won’t be able to take in more cats.”
“Okay,” I say, unsure where she’s going with this.
“But there will be so many people at the Harvest Festival, Dr. Carson! We could set up a spot where people could meet the cats and adopt them.”
I close my eyes. Damn. It’s a great idea.
“I’m sorry,” Jean blurts, and I open my eyes to see worry lining her face.
“No. It’s a great idea. I was just…” Regretting ever agreeing to Tre’s idea to plan a fucking festival, I think. But out loud, I say, “Trying to picture where we could fit it. I’ll need to talk to the owners about the setup, but I’ll figure out something.”
“Oh, that’s great! I have to tell Carol! She’ll be so relieved!” Jean says, rushing out of the room and nearly bumping into Natalie in the hallway.
Natalie comes to a sudden stop to avoid a collision. Our eyes meet when she glances into the office, and there’s a question written on her face, though she doesn’t ask it.
Neither of us has mentioned me walking in on her and my dad, but that hasn’t made things less awkward.
I’m beginning to wonder if I should say something, but I’m her employer, and I don’t want to make the situation worse.
It’s really none of my business if she and my dad are together, but clearly she didn’t want me to know about it.
Finally, she says, “We’re running low on gloves and surgical masks. Are you okay with me putting in a new order?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I agree.
“Looks like it all came together,” Ewan says.
“‘Came together’ nothing,” I grumble as I watch Tre. He’s behind the booth for Betty’s, talking to the person at the front of the line.
He must feel my eyes on him, because his gaze lands on Ewan and me. He flashes me a quick smile, and then his attention is back on the customers at his booth.
“I thought Tre was going to strangle Jacob at least half a dozen times in the past month.”
Ewan shrugs. “They don’t like each other.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Tre doesn’t like that Jacob thinks he has a chance with you.”
“What?” I ask, swiveling my gaze to stare at my twin, whose green eyes look so much like mine.
“Tre doesn’t like that Jacob thinks he has a chance with you.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time.”
“It’s pretty obvious that Jacob still has a thing for you, sis. Well. To anyone who’s paying attention, which I guess excludes you,” Ewan snarks, and I roll my eyes.
“Tre hasn’t said anything about it.”
“Well, he wouldn’t, would he? You’re with him, and he knows you don’t give a fuck about Jacob. He just doesn’t like that Jacob doesn’t know that. It’s not a big deal.”
“Did he say something to you?”
“No. But I have eyes. Ah. Speak of the devil,” Ewan mutters, and I look away from him to find Jacob approaching.
I paste a bland smile on my face. “Hi Jacob.”
“Hi Fiona. Hi Ewan,” Jacob says before focusing on me. “You were right about this being a good idea.”
“Yeah, it seems like people are really enjoying it. It was Tre’s idea though.”
Jacob’s mouth turns down slightly, and his eyes flick toward Tre. “Yes. That’s right. Well, still. I know how much work you put into making this successful. It wouldn’t have been half as well organized without your efforts.”
I simply nod politely as Jacob continues talking, and Ewan, standing beside me, says nothing. Eventually, Jacob spots someone important and rushes off to speak with them.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I resume my conversation with Ewan. “He asked me to move in with him.”
“Jacob?” Ewan asks, clearly confused.
“What? No. Tre.”
“Oh. When?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“You said yes?”
I nod, looking at Tre in the distance and remembering the discussion. The discussion that began with me standing in my kitchen holding a box of macaroni and cheese, and ended a few hours later on my kitchen floor with pancakes forgotten on a plate next to the stove.
Me, pouring maple syrup onto Tre’s dick and licking it off slowly. So slowly. Until he was so hard I could feel the blood pounding in his cock beneath my tongue.
Him, gently wrapping his hands in my hair. The whimpering sounds of desperation he made that set my body on fire when I finally wrapped my lips all the way around him.
The taste of semen flooding my mouth as cum hit the back of my throat and I swallowed it down.
His tongue sliding across mine seconds later.
Him, whispering, ‘I love you, Fiona. Please move in with me.’
“When’s that happening?” Ewan asks, and I jerk my eyes away from Tre, my body having gone hot.
“Um. May. We need enough time to pass to make things at least somewhat believable.”
“Cool. You can thank me anytime, you know,” Ewan comments, dancing out of the way before my elbow can make contact with his ribs.
“I’m surprised you’re still in town,” I say as I sidle up next to Special Agent Connor Smith.
He startles and his head jerks toward me. He tries to cover the motion with a shrug. “Job’s not done yet,” he supplies before returning his focus to my dad, who’s standing in the middle of the cat adoption area. Connor’s been watching him from a distance for at least a few minutes now.
“Any leads?”
His lips twitch upward. “You’re smart enough to know I can’t answer that question.”
“Had to try,” I say lightly.
“Good turnout for the festival.”
“Yeah.” I pause a beat and then ask, “Is it normal for you to stick around an investigation for so long? It doesn’t really seem like there’s much happening.”
“No.”
I wait a moment, but he doesn’t elaborate, and we stand in silence, both obviously watching my dad.
“The cat adoption area,” he says after several minutes have passed. “Was that your idea?”
“No,” I reply, hoping I don’t look as unsettled as I feel. “Someone pitched it to me.” He opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he can ask the next logical question. “Sorry. I’ve gotta run. The raffle’s about to start.”
Two hours later, I’m back in front of the cat adoption area, and neither my dad nor Special Agent Connor Smith are anywhere to be seen.
Half of the wire enclosures now have ‘I’ve been adopted!
’ signs hanging from them, and Jean is helping a couple with a little girl fill out forms to adopt a long-haired grey cat.
“Hey,” a voice whispers in my ear, and I jump, my reaction mirroring Connor’s earlier. “Sorry,” Tre says. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me.”
“Hi. No. Sorry, I was distracted.”
“By the cats?”
“Yes.” I slip my hand into his, having already decided not to let my worries about the ATF disrupt what remains of our plan. His eyes go wide, and I smirk, enjoying having surprised him. “Did you forget we weren’t hiding anymore?”
“No. But I didn’t want to… assume.”
My smirk changes to a grin as I turn to face him. “You know, I was watching you earlier.”
“I know. I saw.”
“Do you know what I was thinking about?”
“No. What?”
“Maple syrup,” I say conversationally, and the sharp inhale as his lips part is audible. I drop my voice. “And the way you moaned when I ran my tongue around the head of your dick. The way you begged me for more when I had just the first inch of you in my mouth.”
“Fiona,” he murmurs, and there’s a low warning note in his voice.
“I was remembering the way your hips jerked against my face, and the taste as you—”
His lips crash into mine as he tugs me into him, one hand on the small of my back and the other in my hair. I wrap my hands around him and press my body into his. He’s already hard, and I slip my tongue into his mouth, enjoying how easy it is to make him all hot and bothered.
I pull away after another handful of seconds has passed, not wanting to make too big a spectacle.
“What are you doing?” Tre asks, staring into my eyes. “People are going to talk.”
“People were going to talk anyway, Tre.” I swear I can feel them watching us already. “We may as well give them something worth talking about.”
“In that case…” he says, and then his lips are back on mine.
This kiss lasts longer, and blood is pounding in my head by the time he breaks it off.
“Later,” he promises softly.
“Later,” I agree. “What would you think about getting a cat?” I ask, moving to step away.
Tre’s hands stop me, and he says, “Yes, we can adopt one when you move in, but give me a sec.” He closes his eyes, and a dark blush stains his cheeks.
We’ve been standing there for a minute with Tre using me for cover when I whisper, “Incoming.”
A look of panic washes across his face as he spots Nick Trowbridge walking toward us. Tre twists, stepping slightly behind me.
“Hi Nick, enjoying the festival?” I ask as I take half a step forward, hoping to distract him and buy Tre a bit of time. Nick and I met during one of the many planning meetings for the festival when he was helping Tre get a permit for something.
“Hi Fiona! Yeah, it’s been great. I was over at the stage checking out the pumpkins when I spotted you and Tre.”
Heat is creeping up my cheeks now, but Nick continues before I can say anything. “I wanted to congratulate you both on pulling this together so quickly. And Tre, I thought you might be interested to hear the latest about Henley and Montank.”
“That’s right, you had a hearing yesterday?” Tre asks, finally stepping forward.
“Yeah, Henley and Montank were appealing the injunction. Their appeal was denied, so they’re going to be forced to perform new assessments.
It doesn’t mean the construction won’t start back up, but the next hearing won’t be until mid-January.
All their work will be paused until then at the earliest.”
“What are the chances that the courts will actually stop them from moving forward on their projects long-term?” I ask.
“Mixed,” Nick says. “Truthfully, we’ll probably have better luck with their insurers refusing to continue underwriting them, but thanks to what’s happened over the past several months, that’s a very real possibility.
Plus, reporters are taking a much closer look at Henley and Montank’s financials, and who knows what they’ll find.
Anyway, I just wanted to update you on where things stand at the moment. ”
“Sure thing. Thanks, Nick,” Tre says, and then Nick is walking away.
“What do you think?” I ask as Tre’s hand slips back into mine.
Tre shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess we wait and see. In the meantime, I’ve got you, and that’s good enough for me.”