“You absolutely do.” She hops to sit on the counter and Reba—the traitorous little feline—immediately curls into her lap, purring like Gwen is her biological mother. “So? Did you finally sign up for that dating app?”
My jaw tics. “I never said I was doing that.”
“OH. MY. GOD. You did. I knew you would! Have you matched with someone already? Who is she? Do I know her?” The questions fire off like she’s got a semi-automatic gossip gun.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She points at me like she’s presenting evidence to a jury. “I know you, big brother. Now spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill. You’re as bad as Evie whenever Hayes walks into Dockside and looks at Emmy.”
“It’s our little-sister radar. You’d think you’d be used to it by now.” She snaps her fingers in my face. “Anyway. Focus. Give. Me. All. The. Details.”
“No.”
She actually kicks her heels like a toddler about to melt down. “Come on, Rhett! I need something to distract me from the emotional devastation of my florist canceling. Do you know how stressful wedding planning is?”
“Florist disaster aside, how’s it going? What are we at—six and a half months out now?”
“Give or take. But it feels like time is running out to secure every vendor in New England.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Speaking of, I finally snagged an appointment with Holly tonight. Should’ve gone to her from the start instead of hiring some fancy Boston florist I saw on Instagram.”
“Smart,” I say, because it is. Holly’s not just good—she’sHolly.
Gwen hesitates for a beat. I know that look. The soft lip bite. The widening eyes. The incoming favor.
“Do you think you could pick Matty up for hockey practice tonight?”
I arch a brow. “Can I pick up my adorable and talented nephew and take him with me to the hockey practice that I coach?” I deadpan. “I don’t know, Gwen. Sounds like a real hardship.”
“Rhett.” She whines it like she’s five.
“Yes, Gwen. I can take Matty.”
She beams, smug and satisfied with herself. As if I would have ever told her no.
I open my mouth to tell her I’ll pick him up at five when my phone buzzes on the counter.
It’s the new message alert from the app.
My pulse jumps. Which is ridiculous.
And Gwen notices. She never misses a damn thing.
Her eyebrows lift. “Is that the app girl?”
I ignore her, because the message preview alone sends my stomach dropping.
Mistletoe_Reader:Rhett, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to ghost you. It’s just that the entire holiday display collapsed. There’s glass everywhere and a huge hole in the wall.
I called the Town Council office since they fund all our building maintenance. They told me to just call a handyman and send over the invoice.
But, who do I call?
It’s clear that she’s flustered and panicking.
AndIwas the first (well okay, thesecond)person she thought to message.
I’m already reaching for my tool belt hanging behind the register. “Gwen, you’re on store duty.”
