Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Phoebe
My smile slipped.
What the heck was with the tension between them?
One of my superpowers had always been reading the mood of a room. Keaton, my eldest brother, he was usually the one who rubbed people wrong. Lance? Absolutely not.
Lance gave Dutch a quick nod. I pinched my brother’s arm and he flinched, frowning down at me. I narrowed my eyes at him, hopefully projecting the “don’t be rude” into his head.
“Welcome to Haven. How do you know my sister?”
“Lance,” I admonished out the side of my mouth.
“We’re neighbors. I moved into the cottage across the road from her.”
“Oh.” My brother relaxed. “Careful, my sister adopts people.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I punched him in the side.
“Hey.” He rubbed his ribs. “Tell me I’m lying.”
“Stop at the green truck outside near the tree. See who else she adopted.”
I changed my glare setting to stun and stared at Dutch. “He’s more your dog than mine, no matter what you say. He keeps escaping from my house to stare at your door with heart eyes.”
Lance tipped back his hat. “I feel like I’m missing half the conversation.”
I moved over to the cart by Dutch. “It’s a long story.”
“Phoebe rambling story long, or actually long?”
“Ask him, he’s the writer.” I pointed a thumb at Dutch. If he wanted to throw me under the bus, I could play that game too.
Dutch rocked back on his heels. “Thanks, Phoebe.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Probably had to rip the Band-Aid off eventually.” Dutch held his hand out to my brother. “Atticus Dutch.”
My brother’s jaw dropped open. “Oh, fuck.”
“You know him?” My gaze bounced from my brother to Dutch.
He reached into his jacket and came out with a battered paperback with a black and red cover. “I just got off my flight. Only thing that made it even close to tolerable was this book. I can’t wait for your new one.” He reached over and shook Dutch’s hand.
I watched Dutch go from polite to shut down in a breath. He covered it well, but I could feel the tension vibrate right through him.
“I’m sure this is tacky as fuck, but would you sign this?”
“Sure. Not every day that someone actually has one of my books in his pocket.” Dutch smiled but it was a distant, plastic one.
Lance patted his pockets. “Shit. I don’t have anything on me.”
I lifted the borrowed hoodie and dug around in my front pocket of my overalls. “Best I can do.” I handed over my paint marker I’d been using on window illustration when I left. “Pink or purple?”
Lance winced. “Purple.”
“C’mon, it’s gotta be the pink.”
“Shut up, Phee.”
I laughed and shook the pen, then handed it over to Dutch. For a second, the stiffness left him. “I’ve used a lot of things to sign, but this is a first.” He used the edge of the produce bin full of potatoes. He flipped to the title page and scribbled inside. Then signed with a practiced flourish.
He closed the book and brushed his thumb over the worn creases through The Red Suitcase.
“Sorry, it’s so bent.”
“Nah. Books are meant to be folded and creased.” He handed Lance the book. “First thing I do when I read a paperback is break the spine.”
My brother lit up. “Me too. I keep trying to change over to my e-reader, but I love the feel of paper in my hand.” He flipped open the cover and laughed. “Thanks, man.”
Of course signing a book started to garner attention around us.
People craning their necks to see what was going on.
Lance shoved the book back into his pocket.
“I’ll let you guys get back to it. I just wanted to pick up a few frozen pizzas since I’m hunkering down for some snow.
I guess I should have stayed down in Florida for another week. ”
“Then you’d bring two storms.” I grabbed a bag of the potatoes and set it in the basket.
Dutch did the same, only he went for red ones.
“Welcome to Haven, Mr. Dutch.”
“Just Dutch.”
Lance grinned. “Ain’t that some shit? We have another celebrity.” He stopped by the cart and dropped a kiss on top of my head. “I’ll come by and meet the dog soon. I’m going to need that story.”
Dutch narrowed his eyes. “Had to out me?”
I just shrugged. “You started it.”
He sighed. “Let’s get to the butcher before the case is wiped out.”
“Good idea. What are you making?”
“Stew. What are you making?”
“Shepherd’s Pie, potato soup, and homemade pizza. I don’t do frozen box. My brothers have no taste.” I got behind the handle of the cart.
“Which other celebrities are here? Or does he mean that guy you mentioned who won the lottery?”
“Well, kind of. The lottery guy is going out with our other famous resident. To us she’s just Amber, but you might have heard of her stage name—Ambrose.”
He whistled. “Not what I was expecting.”
“She grew up here. She came home for a little R&R after a big tour and fell in love with the boy next door.” I hip bumped him. “Just like one of her songs.”
“So, you’re telling me no one will care about me?”
I glanced around at the handful of people who were watching us. “Eventually.”
“Great.”
I laughed and steered us to the butcher. Luckily, I was pretty sure most people hadn’t seen exactly what Dutch had signed, so his secret was safe for now. When we got to the registers, he paid in cash.
And wouldn’t let me pay for my food. For such a grumpy jerk, he even bought a few more reusable for me bags because I’d bought so much. His asshole nature was very much at odds with his innate kindness.
We stowed our bags and the cases of Diet Coke for him just as the first snowflakes were falling.
“Is this normal?” He asked as he opened the door for me and let Mouse out. “Go do your business.”
The dog bounded over to the patch of brown grass at the edge of the parking lot. He sniffed around and peed on every other bush before trotting back over to us.
“The snow? Kind of. Every few years we get more snow than usual. This year has been pretty intense though. Global warming much?”
He grunted. “Yeah, that’s true.” He waited for both of us to climb in and closed the door after us before walking over to his side. “Need to stop anywhere else?”
“Sanctuary Spirits?”
“If that means alcohol, then yeah I’m down.” Dutch blew into his hands to warm them up.
“It does. An adult hot chocolate sounds good for tonight.” I turned in my seat. “Sure you don’t want your sweatshirt back?”
“I know I’m an asshole, but I’m not leaving you in a tank top, Phoebe.” He turned up the heat before he kicked on the wipers and backed out of the spot.
“You’re not exactly an asshole.”
“I’m aware of my shortcomings. Why I try to keep to myself.”
“Good luck in a small town, buddy.”
The snow was rapidly accumulating when we pulled into Sanctuary Spirit’s parking lot. The liquor store was dog friendly so Mouse came in with us. Dutch grabbed a cart, surprising me.
“What are you getting?”
“I didn’t bother packing my bar for this impromptu trip. I’m not a huge drinker, but I do like wine and the occasional bourbon.”
“Did you say bourbon?” A spry octogenarian asked from behind us.
Dutch nodded. “Have a recommendation, ma’am?”
“Call me Judy.” She tapped her name tag. “I sure do. Went to a tasting this past summer. I know just the thing.”
His eyebrows climbed under his mess of curls. “Is that right?”
“Life’s too short to worry about my liver at this point. I may as well enjoy myself.” She waved us over. Mouse trotted after the woman first. “Well, aren’t you a beauty?”
Mouse’s tail waved merrily.
The woman patted his head. “C’mon then. I’m about to spend your master’s money.”
Dutch grinned and my stomach flipped. A full blown smile was rare from him.
The woman lifted glasses off her chest from a beaded chain and perched them at the end of her nose.
“This one.” She pointed to the bottle on the fourth shelf.
“Hillrock. Made in New York. Hudson Valley region to be exact. Not only did it win a few awards, but it actually tastes amazing. Will warm you right up tonight with all the snow coming.”
“Sold. Let me get that.”
The woman tipped her glasses down. “Your man has muscles in all the right spots.”
“Oh, he’s not mine.”
“Well, he should be.” She winked at me. “Nothing like a little slap and tickle on a cold night.” Then she cackled.
Dutch coughed around a laugh.
“Good advice,” I managed to say without laughing.
“Of course it is. Now let me show you our wines.”
“I need some Irish for hot cocoa, Judy.”
“I got you, girlie.” She wagged a finger in the air.
I followed behind her, Dutch bringing up the rear this time. By the time Judy was done with us, Dutch spent another three hundred dollars. Cash.
Who the heck kept that kind of cash on hand?
I didn’t bother fighting over the sticker shock. My idea of a decent bottle of wine was about twenty bucks. This was definitely out of my league. Dutch carried the big box out to his truck and Mouse happily trotted beside us. He bounded around in the snow while we loaded the truck.
Dutch shook out a tarp to cover our packages from the worst of the snow. I hurried to my side of the truck and waved Mouse over.
“Bit of deja vu.” He slammed his door. “Seems like it’s going to be as bad as the one last week.”
“Good thing we have food and booze.” I laughed through chattering teeth. I wasn’t exactly dressed for snow.
He flicked on the heater on max as the truck fogged up thanks to Mouse’s panting. He kept making nose prints on the window.
“It’s too cold to roll down the window. Not all of us are mountain dogs.”
The dog whined and draped himself over my lap.
“One way to warm you up,” Dutch said.
I laughed. “I can’t believe he was abandoned. He’s such a good boy. I’ll call the clinic this week and make sure he’s not chipped.”
“He’s your dog at this point.”
“He’s your dog—you’re just in denial.” I kissed the top of his head. “But I don’t mind being the surrogate mama.”
The trip back to the lake was slow going as snow coated the streets, bringing visibility to near zero.
“Do you want me to drive, California boy?”
“Don’t think you’d reach the pedals without blocks.”
“Rude.”
He just smirked and kept white knuckling his way down Destiny toward home. Surprisingly, he handled the snow well. Then again, it seemed like he handled most things well except for his temper tantrums.
By the time we turned onto Providence Road, the windshield wipers were struggling against the fat flakes. I was glad for his beast of a truck to get up my winding lane.
“Go on get inside. I’ll get your bags.”
“I can help.”
“Get inside. You’re shivering. Take the dog.”
“So bossy.”
“Go.”
I ran over to the portico to unlock the door to my mudroom. Mouse took off around the back of my place probably to do his business.
“Do you want your sweatshirt back?” I asked after he deposited my Bailey’s inside my door along with a bottle of wine I definitely hadn’t picked out.
“No. Stay warm.”
I went on my toes and kissed his bearded cheek. “Thanks.”
He fisted his hands at his sides, then nodded and disappeared into the snow. Mouse came back around the house toward the studio and barked at Dutch. He shooed him away to me.
“Mouse. C’mere.”
He looked at me, then to Dutch with a forlorn bow to his head.
“C’mon, buddy. Let’s get some dinner.”
It was generally his magic word. Dejected, he followed me inside. “It’s okay.” I ruffled his ears. “We’ll eat and cuddle on the couch with a book.”
That’s what you did on a snowy night. I hauled the bag full of perishables inside.
Even if part of me wished for a different kind of extracurricular activity.
“Put it out of your head, girl. He’s not interested.”