“What did you do?”
“Quilting Guild. We had a new member.”
“Lacie,” I said as if it were a swear.
“Can I offer a piece of motherly advice?”
“Can I refuse?”
“Charles, stop being a pain in the ass.” She said it in the most motherly tone she could muster. “If you dropped this tough boy act once in a while, you’d see there are more people rooting for you than against.” The motherly tone faded as her eyes narrowed. “Got me?”
Whoa. Mum had dished out a harsh reality as if it were a pecan brownie. She was right, damn her. I kept my armor in place to keep them at bay. That wasn’t going to change anytime soon. But she made it obvious that my strategy had problems.
She hobbled down the step and put the piece of paper on the workbench. “Maybe he’ll get you out of your shell.” She gave a faint smile before exiting the garage. I wanted to give a smart-ass reply, but I had just been schooled by my mother.
I cracked a smile.
Tugging at the sleeping bag, I unzipped it and hung it off the side of the bench. My eyes never left the little sheet of paper. How many people had overheard my mother ask Lacie for the number? Though… my eyebrow went up, why didsheask for it? She couldn’t have known that I wouldn’t have added his number already. Did she know me that well, or were Firefly hijinks at play?
I snatched it off the table. As I reached for my phone, it vibrated.
Unknown: Your mother left an impression.
Unknown: Lacie will never leave.
Unknown: Still no sign of your underwear.
Maybe their meddling wasn’t theworstthing that could happen.
Charlie: Next time, extra socks and jocks.
NO BIG WHOOP
Charlie: See you at the library.
Ronnie: Or…
Charlie: Or?
Jeff: No Big Whoop.
Matt: Let’s just meet at the library.
Ronnie: What if we’re loud?
Jeff: I’m feeling very loud.
Ronnie: Aren’t you always?
Matt: Facts.
Charlie: Fine.
I should have known better.
Each of their little gremlin hands was coated in a layer of chocolate. No matter how much Jeff tried licking them clean, the sticky batter remained. I let three tiny terrors bamboozle me. I had never set foot in the bakery before, but I should have known they had ulterior motives. If the small space didn’t smell like heaven doused in confectionery sugar, I’d have been mad. My belly insisted the gremlins had done me a favor.
Even the woman behind the counter snickered when I went looking for support. The glass case had almost two dozen different types of whoopie pies. All small. She had really committed to the pun inNo Big Whoop. At first, I wondered how a town the size of Firefly could keep such a niche bakery afloat. Were whoopie pies really that popular? The constant flux of people wandering in and leaving with boxes full answered that question. I hoped it lured in a bear or two, perhaps a silver fox, or one very specific cub.
