Laughing, I eased open the door a little wider. “Noted,” I said, not bothering to hide the amusement from my voice.
I leaned forward and lowered my voice conspiratorially. “But let’s be real, Beth. You’d miss my four-legged adventures. Besides, who else would sneak around, listening in on conversations to see if a boy likes you or not?”
From the way she wrinkled up her nose, I had her caught in that kernel of truth, and she didn’t want to admit out loud that I was right.
She pointed a finger at me, a grin begging to let loose at the corners of her mouth. “Fine, maybe I’d be slightlybored without you. Still doesn’t mean that I won’t hesitate to send any creepy corn monsters your way if we get haunted.”
Beth backed away, heading towards my bedroom door. “I’ll let Mom know you’ll be over to help in a few.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Beth. You’re the best.” Sincerely, she was. The best pain in the ass kid sister a girl could ask for. Even when she interrupted my intimate showers where all I wanted was a little self-love.
After she left to head back to the main house, I quickly changed into a pair of old sweats and a tee.
By the time I trekked from the cottage to the main residence, my mom was already in full cyclone mode. Dishes were everywhere, ingredients scattered across the counter, and she was fiddling with the buttons on the stove.
I picked up a gutted pepper, inspecting my mom’s ruthless handiwork.
“Beth said you were making stuffed peppers.”
My mom spun around, only now noticing my presence in the old farmhouse-style kitchen.
“Oh, Harlow, yes. Can you grab the meat out of the fridge?”
Working in tandem, my mother and I prepared dinner. The comfortable silence of us being in the kitchen together was familiar and welcome. There were many faults I could assign her, but forcing conversation where none was required wasn’t one of them.
Once the stuffed peppers were out of the oven and the entire family was seated at the round kitchen table, my dad cleared his throat.
I knew that sound all too well. He was either about to remind us about one of the steps of his life coaching program, or he was about to awkwardly pry where he shouldn’t. Ultimately, I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.
His fork hovered over his plate as he met my gaze. Not my mom’s. Not Beth’s.Mine.
I braced myself while Beth looked relieved, and my mom continued sending emails one-handedly from her phone and eating with the other.
“Say, Harlow, I got to meet a lot of interesting people in town today.”
“Oh?” Feigning interest, I raised both of my brows.
He nodded and cut another piece of pepper. “The Town Council has been very welcoming. In fact, they introduced me to a few fellas. Now, I know we’ve discussed at length how finding your S.P.A.R.K.L.E. is critical as we all adjust to this move. Your mother and I appreciate that you moved out here to stick close to the family and help out, but everybody needs to find that special someone to elevate themselves to the next level.”
A groan slipped out of me, earning me a kick to my shin from Beth, who was seated next to me. I retaliated with a murderous look and a kick right back at her shin.
Then, I put on my best expression of understanding of where my dad was going with this.
“Look, Dad, I’ve already met Bale and Corbin?—”
“Bale and Corbin?” His tone said it all. He hadn’t been talking about them.
Shit.
Beth looked at me and mouthed their names in confusion. I’d have to fill her in later.
“Oh goodness me, no!” My dad laughed while wiping his mouth with a crumpled-up napkin in his hand. “I meant Mayor Dennison’s twin boys, Chadwick and Malcolm. Now,thosetwo young men naturally give off S.P.A.R.K.L.E. energy. Did you know the two of them oversee every real estate transaction and property development project in town? They’re incredibly driven and successful individuals.”
He then leaned over with a cheesy grin, ready to reveal the punchline of this joke of a conversation. “From what I’ve heard, they’re both considered the town’s most eligible bachelors. Maybe you ought to talk to one of them tonight at the festival, huh?”
I blinked slowly, trying to digest the fact that my dad sat here trying to play matchmaker.
Both Chad and Malcolm had been some of the first occupants of Falston I had met. Within hours of arriving in Falston, Malcolm tried to mansplain pumping gas to me, and his brother argued that William Shakespeare was the world’s first rapper.
