There was precisely one man of my acquaintance who could pull off that level of cocky.
And it was Hutch.
“Okay, first,” she began, “non-negotiable, Brett and I are going to be keeping company with you up there too.If those people are watching you, I think you should have a lot of folks driving in and out of your place.I’ve heard of that outfit.The rumors aren’t positive, especially since we know those men don’t make those pies, and we’ve never seen any women.But you want to live and expect others to let you live, you return the favor.Them writing you that note is concerning.So Brett, and me, and once he hears of this, probably some of Brett’s friends are going to find occasion to drop by.”
Her voice lowered when she went on.
“I know you like your alone time, Mabel.I know you’ve got a fierce independent streak.We’ll have a mind to that.But you have to let us do this.When Brett finds out, this plan is the only thing that’s going to keep him from going direct to those folks and sharing a piece of his mind.”
I was afraid of that.
“I do like alone time, Abigail, but I also like people.So if it makes you feel better, and Brett, I’ll make us dinner this week and maybe, I don’t know, have a party or something.”
“I know this, Liam was all about thatsang-you-warythis morning.It was the only thing he could talk about.So maybe you can talk to your dog trainer about setting up that tour on Saturday, then we can all head to yours.”
“That sounds good.I’ll talk to Hutch.”
“Now, about Hutch.”
Moxie jumped up on my stomach, stilled like the landscape was going to change and she needed to be prepared for it, then positioned herself horizontally on my chest and belly, and the minute I started stroking her, she closed her eyes and started purring.
All this happened while I said, “Again, not a thing.”
“Honey, you called him ‘honey.’”
I did?
Oh shit!
I did.
“I have a confession to make.I know Hutch,” she admitted.
My hand stilled on Moxie’s soft fur.
Her eyes opened.
I resumed stroking.
Her eyes closed.
“You do?”I asked.
“Right, notknowhim.I’ve heard of him.And I’ve heard of him because I know Bree Waddell.She’s been in the store a few times.She likes Gemma’s candles and Ida’s oatmeal mask.”
“Bree Waddell?”
“A woman in town who suffers from a pathological case of Pretty Girl Syndrome.”
Uh-oh.
“They dated,” Abigail told me.“I’m not in Bree’s friend posse, because she doesn’t have one due to Bree being Bree, but when that whole thing blew up, everyone in town was talking about it.”
I tensed and asked, “Blew up?”
“Restraining order.”
My voice was pitched high.“Against Hutch?”
