Page 92 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

“What makes you think that?” I bluffed with an unconvincing snort.

“Because I know you. He hurt you, and I hated seeing you in pain. Time heals wounds and all, but that was a deep scar and you’re smiling now. So…who is he?”

Shit. I couldn’t tell him.

Or could I? Bran could keep a secret.

He was a good friend. He’d ask a ton of questions I probably couldn’t answer, but he’d have my back. He was trustworthy and after he got over the movie-star twist, he’d be happy I was happy. And then he’d probably worry about me cracking when it fell apart…next week or next month or…whenever.

“Uh…”

Bran cocked his head curiously. “Is it new?”

“Yes.”

“Got it. Well, enjoy him. And when you’re ready, I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Okay.” I sipped my drink and tried to think of a quick topic change. “How’s the baby? Have I missed anything adorable lately?”

Bran read me like a book, but his son was his favorite subject, so he didn’t seem to mind. “Every day is something new and adorable. When I left him with his daddy this morning, Andrew was sitting up on his own and blowing bubbles. That child might be a prodigy.”

I barked a laugh. “No doubt. I need to see your small genius before he learns more tricks.”

“Well, I was going to invite you over last Saturday for dinner, but Connor said you were out of town. And now I think I know why.”

I stooped to pet Benson again like a coward.

“I was in Carmel at Mr. Gowan’s cottage. He asked me to bring a couple of things home to him,” I replied, filling him in about our visit yesterday afternoon.

Bran’s teasing smile dipped. “Oh, honey, that sounds grim.”

“I know.”

“That poor man has been—what the hell was that?” He furrowed his brow and marched to the front door.

“What’s wrong?”

He peered through the window. “Someone just took a picture with one of those long-range thingamajiggers.”

“Lenses?”

“That’s what it looked like, but…I could be wrong.” He checked his watch before heading to the register. “I’ve been watchingCold Case Filesreruns during nighttime feedings. Bad idea. Last night’s episode was about a bank robbery gone wrong. The perp was a first-class dumbshit who wore a custom T-shirt for a construction company with an address emblazoned on the front. I mean, c’mon…I solved that one in two seconds flat. Now tell me about Carmel. I didn’t know Mr. G had a house there. What’s it like?”

“Adorable. The whole town is adorable. If you’re thinking about expanding BGoods, I’d highly suggest Carmel-by-the-Sea as an option. Bran, it’s like stepping foot in a fairy tale.”

We glanced up when a gaggle of high school students entered the store and shared a bemused look. Teenagers weren’t our usual clientele. They gathered near the candle display a few feet from where Connor was busily folding throw blankets while chatting with a loyal old customer. He could handle the girls while I showed Bran a few photos I took in town.

Oops. I couldn’t open my photos without accidentally sharing selfies of Pierce and me at the beach. Now wasn’t the time.

I scrolled to my search engine to look for a few stock photos to show him instead, pausing to read the headlines:

“Earthquake in Turkey,”

“Astronomers Detect an Explosion in Space,”

And—my heart jumped into my throat, then stopped altogether.

“Pierce Allen’s New Man!”