“Good luck convincing a city girl to come up here,” I warned.
That was an easy recipe for a crash-and-burn relationship.
“Yeah, I know that.”
Reed wandered away, and the three of us settled in to eat.
We were quiet, all focused on our lunches, when I swore the front of Logan’s hoodie wiggled. But both of his forearms were resting on the table.
“Did your hoodie just move?” I asked.
Glaring, he leaned to one side and snagged a piece of turkey from Gabe’s plate. He hunched over, holding the turkey near his abdomen, his chin tucked, and a tiny headpeeked out of the pocket of his sweatshirt and snatched the meat out of his hand.
“Is that a fucking kitten?” Gabe hissed. “Did you just steal my lunch and feed it to a pocket cat?”
“Shh.” Logan frowned at my cousin, then gently eased the critter back into the pocket. “You know Reed gets weird about this kind of shit.”
I cocked a brow, stabbing at my salad. “About health codes?”
Shrugging, he picked up his veggie burger. “She’s a runt. I’m just keeping an eye on her.”
I huffed a laugh. “I was wondering why you were wearing a hoodie in this weather.”
“She’ll be good in a few days.” He took a big bite, chewing noisily. “Just keeping her warm and safe.”
“God, he’s a full-blown cat man now,” I griped.
“It’s a genuine mystery why women weren’t swiping right constantly on those apps,” Gabe joked.
“Laugh all you want, but my lady is out there.” He gave us a dopey smile. “She’s probably curled up on her couch reading and drinking iced coffee, considering leaving her house but ultimately deciding against it. She doesn’t yet know I exist, and I love her for that.”
I couldn’t deny the fantasy wasn’t a bad one. After what Allie had done, I went full on monk. The thought of dating made me sick to my stomach. And like Logan’s, my perfect woman sure as hell wasn’t on a dating app. She probably hated dating apps. Probably hated dating too, now that I was thinking about it.
“Besides, I’ve got bigger problems. I want to buy outMarigold. She’s been making noise about selling the land for a while.”
Logan rented a small farm from Marigold Shaw, one of the older ladies in town. She moved into a condo near the town green a few years ago. He’d revitalized the property and turned it into his animal sanctuary, building and landscaping and taking care of all his animals while working fourteen hours a day seven days a week as one of very few vets in the county.
“Make her an offer,” I told him. “Marigold’s got plenty of cash, and it’s not like Paul wants it.” Her grandson Paul was an accountant who wanted nothing to do with the place. He lived in town with his wife and son and seemed content with his small yard and newer construction home.
Gabe dipped his chin. “Sounds like her granddaughter doesn’t either.”
“I don’t have a lot of cash lying around.” He smoothed his hand over his overgrown beard. “The student loans are killing me. I swear I’m gonna be paying for my degrees for the rest of my life.”
I nodded. I understood that. None of our parents had had money when we headed off to college. I’d gotten my BA, but I’d paid it all off with my Wall Street money. Majoring in finance did have its perks.
But while I’d gone to work, Logan had headed to vet school and Gabe had gone to law school. The debt they accumulated had to be staggering.
“Start a nonprofit,” I told him. Again. “Get tax exempt status and fundraise. I can set up a trust and manage it. We can grow a nest egg to take care of the place.”
He nodded, his lips pressed together in uncertainty. “I gotta own it first.”
He had plenty of options. And I’d happily talk tax strategy, secured investment funds, and indexed growth all day. But my friends would kill me. Besides, that wasn’t who I was anymore.
I was a quiet farmer, living a quiet, solitary life.
Except recently, I’d been feeling more and more unsettled. And it wasn’t only the murder this spring or the business or the fluctuating price of sap that had me waking up in a cold sweat at night.
It was my new tenant. A red-haired terror in Crocs.
