Harper snorted. “Sorry, Noah. Your secret’s out.”
Their eyes sized me up in a way that only women protective of their friends could do and I found myself hunching my shoulders.
Before I could reply, the bell chimed behind me.
Esther barreled inside, eyes glittering with either mischief or caffeine, wearing a jumper with what looked to be one reindeer mounting another. Behind her were the rest of the women, most I’d known since childhood, all in various lewd jumpers. The Book Bitches, assembled, the unofficial government of Kingsbarns.
They didn’t look at me. Not at first. They were hunting bigger game.
“Where is Skye?” Esther demanded. I straightened. Skye was here? Shouldn’t she be manning breakfast at the inn?
“Back room,” Rosie said. “We’ve got her on wrappinggifts for the charity Christmas tree. She’s been arguing with the wrapping paper for ten minutes now.”
“Good. We’ll corner her there. Harper, you’re with me. Shannon, get the biscuits. Meredith, give Gregory’s calendar to Rosie to place by the till—no, notthatphoto, we don’t want to get shut down. Cherise, fetch the donation tin.”
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“Intervention,” Harper said, grabbing a roll of tape like a weapon. “Cozy, small-town, book-clubby, heavy-on-the-meddle intervention.”
“For Skye?”
“For you,” Rosie corrected sweetly. “By way of Skye.”
Esther turned at the back doorway. “No running, Noah Byrne. We run faster.”
There are a few sentences you don’t hear backstage. That was one of them.
I followed because, apparently, I had misplaced bravery or debilitating fatigue.Or both.
The back room was controlled chaos. Strings of different colored twine had been placed next to bins of baubles and a stack of boxes waiting to be wrapped. Skye stood at a long table, hair twisted up, hands braced, looking at Highland coo paper like it had personally wronged her. She didn’t see me at first. She saw the Book Bitches. Which, to be fair, is a lot to see.
“Absolutely not,” she said, her instincts clearly on point. My mouth twitched. “Whatever it is.”
“We haven’t asked anything yet,” Esther said, amused. “But since you’re warmed up, why don’t you come out and have a seat?”
Skye’s gaze flicked to me then, sharp as flint. I held up my hands.I am a hostage.Her mouth pressed flat, and her head swiveled between the Book Bitches and Rosie and Harper.
Skye sighed and stormed past us, Rosie and Harper flanking her like charming bodyguards, and chose a seat by the fire. The Book Bitches arranged themselves opposite, a tribunal in knitwear. I took the far corner and tried to look like furniture.
Esther steepled her fingers. “Right. Business. Noah, if you intend to hide out in our town?—”
“I’m not?—”
“—and if we are to keep our mouths mostly shut about it?—”
“That would be ideal, aye,” I said.
“We don’t work for free, dear,” Meredith said. “We are community-minded. And the community is most emphaticallyinterested.”
Shannon plopped a chunky tin on the table. It had a slot in the lid and the wordsKINGSBARNS WINTER WARMER FUNDwritten in gold marker, slightly smudged. “So you’ll buy our silence.”
I blinked. “You’re blackmailing me for charity.”
“Precisely,” Esther said. “It’s called leverage for good.All proceeds go to the food bank, the library roof, and keeping the hall heated for the pensioners’ dance. Also, we’d like nicer fairy lights for the green, but that’s tier two.”
Skye rubbed her temples. “You can’t just shake him down.”
“Oh, we can,” Harper said cheerfully. “We’re small business owners. We shake for a living.”
