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Hudson hasn’t moved. “Uh … should we come back?”

Skinner takes one look at Mags, who’s now dramatically flopped over the arm of the couch like a Regency widow and cocks his head to the side. “Clue us in?”

“New neighbors,” I say. “Micah, eighteen, attitude. Mags took it personally.”

“He’s rude,” she hisses from the couch. “Like, so freaking rude.”

Hudson covers a laugh and wisely moves toward Riley, who’s trying just as hard as I am not to crack.

Skinner, meanwhile, pulls out his phone and taps a few buttons. “Iwasgonna hang, but I just got a group text. Riley and Hudson are hosting Mortal Kombat night, apparently.”

Hudson squints. “Wait—weare?”

Skinner shrugs. “You are now.” He turns his screen so Hudson can see. “I didn’t plan it. I’m just showing up and kicking ass.”

I shoot him a look. “So, you’re abandoning me to play?”

He salutes with two fingers. “No offense, but I’ve seenRileyplay Sub-Zero pregnant on no sleep. I’d rather take her on than whatever’s happening here.”

Hudson chuckles as Skinner heads for the door. “Bring snacks, or she’ll murder you.”

Skinner’s already halfway out. “I’ll wait in the vehicle.”

“We’ll do dinner here and keep you company,” Mom offers.

Shit, shit, shit.

Mags is muttering about getting rabies shots. Grandma tells her that she can swing by Alex’s to get one while she’s taking her home and manages to direct her to the vehicle. Yes, Grandma drives Mags’s Jeep.

With everyone gone, I glance toward the window, where I can see Greer’s silhouette pacing the porch with her phone to her ear. Micah’s on the steps, arms crossed, gaze like a wall. They’ve been here less than two hours.

“Should I take him on a tour of the brewery?”

Mom laughs. “You sure you want to open that invitation? With his sparkling personality, he may drive customers away.”

“I’ll ask Greer before I do that. We need to go raid the fridge for dinner, anyway.”

“All right,” she says. “Let’s bundle up.”

* * *

I unlock the brewery and walk in. “There’s always something going on here.”

“Gotta be twenty-one to get in, right?” Micah asks.

“It’s a restaurant, so nope. Our families and their kids come all the time. The hunters in the area, the players, and the locals. We host banquets and parties. We open at noon Thursday through Monday during the normal football season. During hunting season, we open much earlier. We close up when it makes sense.”

“What about when the seasons are over?” he asks, looking around.

“With no Monday night games, we’re open Thursday to Sunday right now. We’ll close for two weeks after the big game.”

Mom adds, “And during the summer, the girls take two weeks off around July fourth.”

“Cool.”

I look at Greer and smile, but mostly with my eyes because getting a cool from Micah is like winning the big stuffed bear at the town fair.

“Amending.” I look at Mom. “We may close down for the four days the fair is in town and set up a fundraiser booth.”