I went back to stirring the brussels sprouts that had partially burned during our make-out session. I gured they were still salvageable. Most things were salvageable if you put in a little extra e ort. A bit of burn would give them a nice, charred avor. My lips were swollen, and my heart was still racing from the moment we shared. I wanted more. I wanted to cancel this whole barbecue and spend the day exploring Calvin’s body rather than the ins and outs of his family and friendship dynamics. Every alarm inside me was going o , saying, don’t get involved—but there was a part of me that needed him like one needs water or food or shelter.
Calvin kissed my ear and neck. “To be continued . . .” he whispered.
I had forgotten he was still in the kitchen. I didn’t say a word, and he scurried down the hallway toward his bedroom. I turned o the burner and added a honey-balsamic mixture to the pan. e sliding door o of the deck squeaked open.
“Hey,” Joe called from behind me.
I took a deep breath before turning around.
“Want one?” He stood there holding two beers, one outstretched to me.
I accepted and took a swig, turning back toward the stove to continue stirring the brussels sprouts. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could feel them. I set the beer down and pushed the food from the pan into a serving bowl, pretending I didn’t notice that Joe was still there.
“Whatcha making?” he asked.
“Brussels sprouts.” I nally looked over at him. His eyes were right where I thought they’d be—on me.
“ at’s odd,” Joe said. He swigged his beer.
“Why?”
“Because Calvin hates brussels sprouts.”
My lips parted but I quickly pressed them together. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”
Calvin had lied to me about something as stupid as liking brussels sprouts. I’m sure it was because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. But it left me wondering what else he was lying about.
“Is there something I should know about today, Joe?” I lifted my chin. “What do you mean?” He leaned against the counter and slouched his
shoulders like he was trying to make himself look smaller. Maybe that’s how he felt—small.
“I’ve noticed people have been treating Calvin like he’s glass today, like he could shatter into a million pieces at any moment. Why?”
Joe swallowed hard. His eyes bounced around the room, deciding what and what not to tell me.
“Joe.” I said his name sternly, probably how his dad used to say it.
His eyes now had a sheen to them. “Calvin’s girlfriend, Lisa, died one year ago today. at’s why we’re all treating him like glass, as you put it.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
I knew about Lisa, but I didn’t know it had happened on his birthday. at must have been tough. One thing stuck out though—Joe’s choice of words and Calvin’s. Joe had called Lisa his girlfriend, while Calvin had referred to her as his ex. Maybe it was easier to mourn her that way.
Joe swigged his beer again. “I’m glad he has you today but I’d be careful if . . .”
Before he could nish his sentence, Calvin appeared in the kitchen dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. “What are you two talking about?”
Joe straightened up and cleared his throat.
I smiled at Calvin. “Just deciding who’s going to lead the happy birthday song.”
He eyed both of us for a moment but then cracked a smile. “Please, please
no singing.”
“I guess you’ll have to use your birthday wish to stop that from happening,” I teased.
“ at’s ne. I don’t need it for anything else. I already got everything I want.” Calvin winked at me, then turned to Joe. “Did you get the grills going?”
“Not yet,” he said.
Calvin gave him a pat on the back. “Let’s get to it,” he said, steering him outside. Calvin was like a sheepdog with his brother, always herding him away from me.
Joe gave me a long look but didn’t say another word and left the kitchen
through the sliding door.
“Need any help in here?” Calvin planted a kiss on my cheek.
I scooped three brussels sprouts onto a spoon and held it out. “Just for you to try this and tell me how great it is,” I said with a coy smile, thinking, e punishment t the crime.
He looked at the brussels sprouts and then at me. “I can do that,” Calvin said with a gulp. As soon as he opened his mouth, I shoved the spoon right in there. He chewed quickly and swallowed hard. “So good,” he lied.
He planted a quick kiss on my cheek. “Come join us outside when you’re done,” he called out before hurrying outside and closing the door behind him.
As I nished up in the kitchen, my thoughts went back to Joe. Why had he
been so apprehensive about answering my question? I’d be careful if . . . If what? e words cut short swirled around my brain.
e sound of laughter pulled me from my thoughts and the kitchen. I grabbed a beer and made my way to the back deck.
Joe and Calvin were side by side, preparing the grill. Another guy, who I
presume was Wyatt, stood with his legs slightly apart and his back toward me.
A stream of liquid hit the patch of grass in front of him. He was as tall as Calvin but much broader in the shoulders. Calvin glanced over at him.
“Jesus, Wyatt. I have a bathroom. Stop pissing in the grass.”
Wyatt shrugged and wrestled with his zipper. After he straightened himself, he leaned down and grabbed the beer sitting in the grass beside him.
“Sorry, Calv. is beer is going right through me.” His voice was as thick as molasses. He took a long swig and then turned, facing me.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were standing there.” e tops of his cheeks ushed.
His beard was thick and his hair was scru y, going in all directions. Wyatt was dressed in a faded annel shirt, ripped jeans, and dirty cowboy boots. Overall, he was unkempt in both his appearance and his manners.
“Hey there. I’m Deputy Wyatt Miller,” he said, taking a few steps toward me. He extended his hand. I hesitated, not wanting to shake it since he had just urinated, but not to be rude, I put my hand in his. I had touched grosser things in my life.
“I’m Grace,” I cringed. His skin was tough and tan like leather hide that had been left out to dry. “Deputy?”
“Yep, Dubois’s nest,” he said with a chuckle.
“Around here, they’ll give anyone a badge and a gun,” Joe teased. “Except for you, Short Stack.” Wyatt let out a husky laugh.
Joe exed his thick bicep. “I come fully equipped,” he said, turning his wrist in and out. e veins on his arms bounced.
I noticed Joe and Wyatt acted more like brothers than Calvin and Joe did. “Put those away before you hurt yourself,” Wyatt said. He redirected his
attention back to me. “Calvin here tells me you’re his Airbnb guest?”
“ at’s right.” I glanced over at Calvin, who was busy replacing the propane tank on the gas grill.
Curiosity got the best of me and I asked, “Did you guys ever nd that missing girl? Sheri was over here the other night.”
“Nope.” Wyatt shook his head. “But we did nd her car broken down on a
back road a couple of miles outside of town yesterday. e car was cleaned out
—except we found her cell phone under her driver’s seat, hence why her sister wasn’t able to get ahold of her. We’re thinking she hitched a ride with someone, and hopefully, she’s just having a hard time getting back home with no cell or car.” He took a swig of his beer and slid a hand in his pocket.
Calvin put the empty propane tank to the side and dusted o his hands. “I hope you nd her, but not sure why the sheri was here asking me questions when he knew she never even checked in.”
“ at’s the new sheri for ya.” Wyatt nodded. “He does things a little
di erently. I wouldn’t take o ense to it though, Calv. We had nothing to go on until we found her car.”
Calvin shrugged and started up the grill. “Yeah, I gured that much.”
“ ey just now found her car?” I tilted my head, making eye contact with Wyatt. “ at seems odd since she’s been missing for a couple of weeks, right?”
Wyatt parted his mouth, about to respond, but his head snapped toward the side of the house. I turned my head to see what suddenly stole his attention. It was Charlotte.
“Happy birthday,” she called out.
Her face was bright, her smile was wide, and her makeup was apparent, unlike the other times I’d seen her all fresh-faced. Actually, wait—her makeup looked exactly like mine: long, dark eyelashes, glossy lips, and rosy cheeks. On top of that, she was dressed like me, in blue jean shorts and a black crop top.
“Hey, Char, grab yourself a beer,” Calvin said, pointing to the coolers.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said with a laugh. “Betty went in through the front with her honey cake,” she added as she plucked a beer from the cooler.
“Hey, C. I missed you,” Wyatt said.
Charlotte’s face went sour when she laid eyes on him. “Don’t call me C.
at’s a letter, not a name.”
“Damn, Charlotte. Did you bring anything else other than your nasty
attitude?” Wyatt sniped back.
Charlotte simply dismissed him by shaking her head, so I assumed this wasn’t the rst time he had said something like that to her. She popped the cap o her beer and took a swig. Her eyes went to me. “Have you started packing yet, Grace?”
Apparently, her nasty attitude wasn’t reserved just for Wyatt. It was for me too.
Before I could speak, Joe cut in. “She’s here for another four nights. Why would she start packing?” He gave her a peculiar look and shook his head.
Joe clearly didn’t understand that Charlotte wanted me out of Calvin’s
house. e sliding door opened and out walked Betty, dressed in a full bee suit. “What are you doing?” Joe laughed.
“Well, I gured while I was here, I may as well check on my honeybees.” “Betty, you’re never not working. Make it quick, I’m about to throw the
meat on the grill.” Calvin ipped a spatula in the air and caught it again.
“I’ll be back in a ji y.” Betty carefully walked down the steps of the deck and headed toward the apiary just in front of the woods.
I took a seat and watched Calvin work the grill while Charlotte stared at him longingly. How could he not see how she felt about him? at girl was more than in love. She was obsessed. Maybe he knew that. And maybe he liked the attention. But why the hell was she dressed like me? I looked down at my clothing, then back at hers, and considered changing into something else. But imitation was the sincerest form of attery. Joe and Wyatt tossed around a football. Every time Wyatt threw or caught the ball, he looked over at Charlotte. He was like a child seeking his parent’s attention to show o how talented he was—but she was paying him no mind.
Charlotte walked over to Calvin, engaging him in a whispered conversation.
She playfully tapped his forearm and giggled like a schoolgirl.
Wyatt, realizing he wasn’t getting the attention he desired, stopped playing catch and took a seat on the love seat across from me. Joe sat down next to him, putting his feet up on the co ee table. I was about to ask about the
missing girl again, but Wyatt spoke rst.
“So, you got a man back home?” he asked. I shook my head. “No.”
Wyatt ashed a smile and nudged Joe with his elbow.
“You like my brother?” Joe asked.
I cleared my throat and glanced at Calvin, who was still in whispered conversations with Charlotte.
“I think I might.”
Joe let on a small smile. “Well, like I was trying to say earlier, I’d be careful with my brother there. He tends to fall hard.”
I tilted my head. “How hard?” I wasn’t looking for anything serious. Joe’s eyes narrowed slightly and he quickly glanced back at his brother. “Joe, what are you telling her?” Calvin called from the grill.
He cleared his throat and relaxed his eyes. “Just that you’re a big softie.” Calvin’s face turned a little red. “Get over here and man this thing.”
Joe stood from his chair. “If I don’t mess with him, he’ll be at that grill all night and you won’t have any time with him. You’re welcome.” He winked, grabbed the spatula and tongs from Calvin, and took his spot in front of the grill. It was like Joe felt he owed Calvin something, but I wasn’t sure why that was.
Calvin picked up two beers and sat down beside me, handing one over. Charlotte was only a few steps behind him like a puppy following its human. She took Joe’s open seat right next to Wyatt. He sat up a little taller. Charlotte glanced at Wyatt and gave him a challenging look, but he just smiled back.
“Anyone else coming?” Wyatt asked.
Calvin placed his hand on my knee and gave it a gentle pat. I leaned a little into him. “Yeah, Dr. Reed and Patsy.”
I looked to Wyatt and Charlotte. “So, you two are exes?” “Don’t remind me,” she sco ed.
“We are not exes. We’re just taking a break,” Wyatt challenged.
She jutted out her chin. “We’re not getting back together, Wyatt. at
means we’re exes.”
“I’m not giving up on us.” He shifted in his seat, angling himself toward her. “You randomly broke up with me for no good reason.”
“You two are really cute together,” I chimed in with a grin. Sometimes you
just had to stir the pot.
“See, C? We’re good together.”
Charlotte elbowed him in the side and swigged her beer. I knew he thought she was just being irty because he smiled and patted her knee like Calvin had done with me. He probably thought he saw a spark reignite between them. I knew there was nothing irtatious about it. It was a spark . . . a spark of violence. Charlotte didn’t want to irt with Wyatt. She wanted to hurt him. I wondered what exactly had gone wrong between them. Wyatt seemed like a nice enough guy, a little rough around the edges, but I’d expect that from a country boy. Perhaps nothing went wrong between them. Perhaps something went right between her and someone else.
“Why did you two break up?” I asked, deciding to continue to poke the bear named Charlotte.
“I don’t know.” Wyatt shook his head. “One day we were good and the next she was breaking it o .”
“We were not good together,” she spit.
Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “We were.”
Betty let out a yell. “ e bees are so agitated!” Her voice was panicked.
Calvin stood quickly and helped her out of her beekeeping hat, gloves, and suit.
I noticed red splotches on her hands and neck. e bees had made their way inside her suit. It’s ironic how the ones you care for most are the ones that are most easily able to crawl inside you and do damage.
“What happened?” Calvin asked.
“It seems like they had been messed with. ey were buzzing all around, trying to sting me, and they ain’t usually like that.”
“Betty, they’re bees. ey’re not trained. What do you expect?” Joe
crumpled up his face and ipped a burger patty on the grill.
Betty scratched at her neck and shot him a glare, but quickly softened it. “You wouldn’t understand, Joe. Your dog doesn’t even know its own name.”
Joe shook his head and chuckled, turning over the brats.
Charlotte set her beer down and stood. “Let me help you apply something to those stings.”
Betty nodded, and Charlotte helped her into the house, closing the sliding door behind them.
“What’s with Betty?” Joe asked.
Calvin put his thumbs in the loops of his jeans like he usually did when he was apprehensive or didn’t know what to say. I had only known him for six days, and I had already picked up on that little tell of his. He would never do well in poker. Too many tells.
“Don’t go saying this to anyone else.” He lowered his voice. “But when I took Grace to Dr. Reed after she fell o the horse, he mentioned Betty hadn’t re lled her prescription in two months.”
Joe’s eyes went wide. “Have you talked to her?”
“Of course not. Dr. Reed shouldn’t have told me that in the rst place. He could lose his license to practice.” Calvin rubbed his forehead.
“Chicks be crazy, am I right?” Wyatt said, swigging his beer.
Calvin rolled his eyes.
Joe shrugged. “ is is a small town. Who really has a license around here?” “I would hope a doctor would. Dr. Reed removed my appendix.” Calvin
gave a look of dismay.
“Yeah, and you’ve never been able to do a full sit-up ever since.” Wyatt let out a laugh.
Calvin rolled his eyes and icked a hand at him. “Everyone knows crunches are more e ective.”
“Says the guy with a four-pack.”
Joe shu ed to the side and peered in through the patio door before settling back into place. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll say something to her, but not today.”
Joe shook his head and straightened up, ipping a burger again. “Grace, you like . . . meat?” he asked just as the sliding door opened. Betty emerged, followed by Charlotte. It was clear he had intended to ask something else but quickly changed the subject.
“How ya feeling?” Calvin asked.
Betty’s neck and hands were covered in red splotches. ere was a slight jelly glisten over each mark where Charlotte had rubbed Neosporin. It felt like this whole town had Neosporin rubbed over it—something to conceal it, make it feel better, look better—but beneath the jelly glisten, there was irritation, pain, maybe even venom.
“Yeah, much better, darling.” Betty’s eyes bounced over all of us like a pinball in an arcade.
“Hello,” a voice called from around the corner.
Calvin, Wyatt, and Joe all yelled, “Hello.” Dr. Reed rounded the side of the house, carrying a large package covered in white butcher paper. Patsy, his secretary, walked beside him holding a bottle of sauvignon blanc.
“Whatcha got there, Doc?” asked Calvin.
“A dozen New York strip steaks. Happy birthday,” he said with a smile. “ anks, Doc. You didn’t have to do that.”
Dr. Reed patted him on the back. “I don’t have to do anything, doesn’t mean I won’t.” He then greeted each of us.
“Nice to see you,” I said when his eyes landed on me.
Dr. Reed closed the distance and gave me a half hug, eyeing me in a doctorly way. “You feeling all right?”
“Perfectly new, thanks to you.” I nodded and smiled at him.
“And Calvin took good care of you?” “Only second to you.”
He smiled back and glanced over at the boys. “Calvin, you didn’t tell me my favorite patient would be here.” Dr. Reed put an arm around me.
“Damn, Doc. I thought we were close.” Joe dramatically grabbed at his
chest.
“Oh, we are . . . a little too close.” Dr. Reed’s eyes widened and then he let out a hefty chuckle.
“Ha ha.” Joe uncapped a beer and handed it to the doc.
Dr. Reed took a swig and his eyes found Betty. “Oh no, what happened to you?”
She shook her head and looked at her blotchy hands. “Bees got me. Not like them at all.”
Dr. Reed gave her a concerned look. “You put something on them?” He was clearly worried about her well-being, and it went beyond the bee stings.
“Of course,” she said.
He pulled her o to the side and they continued a whispered conversation.
e boys bantered back and forth while Charlotte looked on.
I moseyed over to Patsy who was still holding that bottle of wine. “You look much better than the last time I seen you,” she said.
“ anks.” I smiled. “Would you like me to open that?”
“Oh yes, please. Dr. Reed picked this up for me.” Her grin widened. “He’s so good to me.”
“He seems to be good to everyone.”
“He takes care of this whole town. Without him, we’d all be dead,” she chuckled.
I gave a small awkward smile and told her I’d be right back.
I spotted a wineglass on the top shelf of one of the cupboards in the kitchen. Standing on my tippy toes, I reached up, barely grasping it with my
ngertips. e glass slipped from my hand and hit the oor with a crash, shattering into pieces.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Shit.”
“Don’t you hate when things like that happen in places you don’t belong?” Charlotte’s voice was like a knife being dragged along concrete.
I turned to nd her standing with one hand on her hip and a smirk on her face. She was clearly pleased with her comment.
I ignored what she said and asked where the cleaning supplies were.
“I know where everything in this house is,” she said, walking to the fridge and pulling out a broom and dustpan from beside it.
When I extended my hand for them, she shook her head. “I got it. I
wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
I rolled my eyes and tiptoed out of the way, sliding open a drawer in search of a corkscrew. Charlotte acted like the ranch was her territory. But the question was, how far would she go to protect it, and what would she do if she couldn’t?
She pulled one from a drawer I hadn’t yet rummaged through. “Here,” she
said, handing it to me.
Charlotte opened the cupboard and grabbed another wineglass, placed it on the counter, and then went back to sweeping.
I brought the glass and corkscrew to the kitchen table to uncork the bottle. My eyes bounced back and forth between Charlotte and the task at hand. I didn’t trust her.
“I’m curious,” she said, pausing her sweeping. “Why would a girl from New York City vacation alone in this blip of a town?”
I glanced back at her.
She raised her brows and stared into my eyes. “And why this ranch? Why Calvin?”
I tilted my head. “People want what they don’t have. I have the bustling and loud concrete city. I don’t have the quiet countryside. e rest was random . . . or fate, as some would call it.”
e cork made a plop when I removed it from the bottle, and I poured a hefty glass for Patsy.
Charlotte leaned down and swept the broken glass into the dustpan. “I don’t believe in fate.”
“I don’t either.”
She walked to the trash can, dramatically stepped on the pedal to open the lid, and looked to me. “It’s funny how something that once had a purpose can
end up in the trash.” Charlotte tipped the dustpan, letting the broken glass fall
into the garbage.
I’m not sure if she was threatening me or just trying to be theatrical. In my experience, insecure women were other women’s greatest enemies because they’d do anything to further mask their own uncertainties. I brought that out of Charlotte. She clearly wanted Calvin but couldn’t have him. Perhaps she had convinced herself that Calvin just wasn’t interested in anyone, but with me here, her previous notions were proven false.
“Did something happen between you and Calvin?” I asked.
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips together. “Why? Did he say something?”
If I told her yes, I knew she’d tell me more. If I told her no, I knew it would anger her. Did I want to know more, or did I want to just piss her o right now? I was tired of her hanging around, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could bite my tongue.
“No, he doesn’t talk about you at all.”
Charlotte’s eyes looked like glass. She inhaled and exhaled sharply. Her hand clenched into a st by her side.
“You know what. In four days, you’ll be gone, and I’ll still be here.” She raised her chin and smirked.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Charlotte let out a hu and returned the broom and dustpan to their place. She stomped across the kitchen and threw open the sliding door. Before exiting, she turned and looked at me. “I hope Joe keeps you here permanently.”
I drew my brows together. But before I could ask her what she meant by that, she slammed the door closed behind her.
