“What are you so happy about?” My cousin Goldy Weston stops in front of me, her hands full of wrapped sandwiches. As always, her blond hair is in a neat updo, and she’s wearing slacks and a blouse like she works in a corporate office and not at home.
I’ve never understood why she doesn’t take full advantage of her ability to work in her pajamas every day. I sure as hell would.
I am not telling my romance-writing cousin that I’m smiling about a woman.
“I’m just thinking about how badly the Sullivans are going to beat the Westons in the new and improved epic tug-of-war.”
She rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing epic about it. I can’t believe the committee voted to improve it.”
The committee is made up of every member of our family who’s aged out of our quarterly family competitions. Some people get together and eat lots of turkey for the holidays or set off fireworks. We try to pull each other into a pit filled with the most gruesome combinations we can come up with.
“Because the committee recognizes true genius.”
“A pit filled with mud, glitter, and all the moldy food from everyone’s houses is not genius. It’s diabolical.”
“At least you’ll be motivated not to lose.”
She smirks. “I’ll be motivated to see you and your brothers covered in furry lasagna.”
“We’ll see,” I say.
She narrows her eyes. “We definitely will.”
“I’m glad I ran into you,” I say.
“Me too.” She leans in and I wrap my arms around her, since hers are full, and hug her.
“You feeding an army?” I ask when she pulls away.
“Just my husband and his crew. They’re just finishing up a big job, so we’re having a celebratory lunch.”
Goldy’s husband owns a construction company here in town. “Ah, how is the competition doing?”
She smirks. “I’ll never tell.” Patting my shoulder, she moves past me. “There’s enough work in this town for you all.”
“Uh-huh,” I say. “Love you, cousin.”
“Love you, too.”
She leaves, and I move up in line.
Half an hour later, sandwiches in hand, I get back in my truck, send a message to Amelia and wait for her location.
And wait.
And wait.
It’s a cool day, but the sun is shining, and it’s getting hot enough in my truck that I roll down the windows. Cool air rolls over me as I sit and stare at my phone.
She’s probably busy. And I need to eat and get back to work.
Finally, my phone vibrates with a text that includes not an address but a GPS location. It’s the sort of thing that could totally be from a serial killer who hacked her phone, but I pop it into my maps app and head blindly wherever it tells me to go.
Where I go ends up being down a rutted dirt road that seems more like I’m being lured by a murderer than Amelia, but I keep going.
I see her animal control van at the end of the dirt road, parked next to a sparkling pond surrounded by trees in the full colors of autumn.
Amelia is sitting on a bench next to the pond, her hair blowing loose in the breeze. When she looks back at me over her shoulder and smiles, my heart stutters. She is the most beautiful woman in the world.
