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CHAPTER EIGHT

T he baby in Paul’s arms was content, gumming the edge of his badge lanyard and making soft, hiccupping sounds that felt louder than they were in the otherwise quiet space.

Paul bounced her gently, shifting his weight from foot to foot as the pediatrician scrolled through his notes on a tablet with one hand and palpated the baby’s belly with the other.

Dr. Mensah was all jawline and arrogance with a white coat as crisp as his opinions.

His stethoscope dangled around his neck like a badge of superiority, catching the light each time he moved.

He lifted the baby’s onesie, pressed the cold diaphragm of the scope to her chest, and listened with exaggerated patience.

“Good lungs,” he muttered, like it surprised him.

Then, casually—too casually—he added, “It figures the Chous would be involved in this mess somehow.”

Paul blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Mensah glanced up, smirking like he was letting Paul in on a town secret. He moved to check the baby’s reflexes, tapping gently along her knees. She kicked reflexively, and he gave a satisfied nod before returning to his tablet.

“Birdy Chou. She’s the lawyer for the girl who abandoned this baby, right?”

Paul didn’t answer.

“Of course she is. She’s always playing the savior, especially when there’s drama involved. Whole family’s like that—think they run this town.”

Paul’s jaw ticked. He wasn't about to disagree with the doctor's assessment of Birdy Chou. He'd learned the lawyer's name after returning to his office to find the beginnings of the paperwork she'd promised. But Paul had seen nothing but kindness from Bunny Chou.

He shifted the baby in his arms, using the adjustment to keep his tone calm. “You know them personally?”

Dr. Mensah gave a dry chuckle, peeling off his gloves with a dramatic snap. “Dated Jules Chou for two years. Until she dumped me for a soldier, of all people.”

“I’m a vet,” Paul said coolly.

That shut the doctor up for a beat.

The baby cooed softly, nuzzling against Paul’s chest as if choosing sides. From the corner, the nurse— Maya , her badge read—gave Paul a quick glance, her expression somewhere between oh no and here we go again .

Then she smiled sweetly and said, “Well, the Chous sure keep busy helping people. Jules' bakery donates to the food pantry every week. Jacqui’s the spicy chef behind Chow Town, and she's constantly sponsoring the Little League. Plus, half her staff are kids from the high school votech program.”

Two of Paul's brothers had opted to go to the alternative vocational-technical high school. His brother Pete got his mechanical skills in the program, while his brother Phil had mastered carpentry there.

Mensah snorted. “Yeah, and Birdy bullies people in court like it’s a competitive sport.”

The nurse didn’t miss a beat. “She’s done a lot of pro bono work for the women’s shelter.

Helped that one mom get her kids back from a bad situation last fall.

And she teaches those free legal workshops every spring.

My cousin went to one. Birdy Chou can be intimidating, but she makes this town safer. ”

Paul shifted his gaze to the nurse, then back to the baby in his arms. The infant blinked up at him, all big eyes and trust. Her little fingers curled around his thumb with complete faith that he had her.

Birdy. Pro bono work. After-school programs. Women’s shelters. That wasn’t the woman he’d seen in the mayor’s office—was it?

His shoulders tensed. Had he gotten it wrong?

He looked down at the baby again. She was still holding his thumb, like she didn’t care about court documents or accusations or messy misunderstandings. She just wanted to feel safe.

And Birdy—despite all her steel and sharp edges—had clearly built her career doing just that: making people safe.

Paul swallowed hard, the weight of his earlier words pressing hot behind his ribs. You can’t be her , he’d said. And yet…

By the time Paul stepped out of the hospital, the sun had dipped behind the trees, and the sky was the color of ash. The cold nipped at his cheeks. His breath puffed in front of him as he secured the baby in the carrier and began the slow walk toward his car.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Winters?”

Paul turned at the familiar voice. A tall man in a Carhartt jacket and a knit beanie stood grinning at him like he’d won the lottery.

“Fish?” Paul blinked. “Fish Pike?”

“Last I checked,” the man said with a laugh, coming forward to clap Paul on the shoulder. “I heard we had a new social worker in town, but I didn’t think it was you. What’s with the plus one?”

Paul smiled wryly and jiggled the baby carrier. “Long story.”

Fish squinted into the carrier. “That’s a baby.”

“She came with the job.”

Fish nodded knowingly. “Come on. You look like you could use a drink. We’ll head to the Grub. It's just around the block.”

“I have a baby. I can't take a baby into a bar.”

“Nobody’ll mind.”

The Grub was warm the second they stepped inside. It was like walking into a hug that smelled like barbecue sauce, cedarwood, and slow-roasted heaven. The baby dozed peacefully in the carrier as Fish led him through a crowd of cheerful regulars and toward the bar.

“Jed!” Fish called. “Got a soldier here in need of brisket.”

Behind the counter, a burly man with forearms like tree trunks and a sly grin looked up from garnishing a plate with something green and artistic.

“Welcome to Grits & Grub.”

“Paul Winters, meet Jed Winchester,” Fish said. “World-famous chef. Also known as Jami Chou’s other half.”

Paul’s eyes widened. “Jami Chou? As in the food critic?”

Jed smirked. “Was. Now she’s the boss around here. I just make what she tells me.”

“I’ve read her stuff for years,” Paul said, a little stunned. “She’s brilliant.”

“That's why I married her. Want to taste her food?”

Paul nodded, settling into a seat.

Fish leaned closer with a grin. “You might have noticed this town has a few Chous in it, and most of them cook. Jami cooks here at Jed's. Jules, my wife, runs the sugar free bakery. I know that sounds like an oxymoron.”

“The sugar free bakery? Or the your wife part?”

Fish smirked and went on. “Jacqui is head chef at Chow Town. I worked there for a couple of years before managing to get a ring on Jules' finger.”

“Is that all?” Paul asked hesitantly. “That all the Chou women who cook?”

“Bunny Chou makes a mean tea. Her baby sister Kitten is a painter. And then there's Birdy who…”

Paul stiffened slightly. Fish didn’t miss it.

“You met Birdy, huh?”

“We had a... conversation,” Paul said carefully.

Fish let out a low whistle. “Man, I hope you were wearing protective gear.”

“Not exactly. “

Fish chuckled and took a sip of the beer the bartender set in front of him. “She’s tough, yeah, but she’s solid. Has to be. Half the women in town owe her their peace of mind.”

“You talking about Birdy?” Jed walked past again, balancing a tray. “That woman would take a bat to your front door if it meant protecting a client. She’s scary—but the good kind.”

Paul looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be smiling. At ease. The kind of small-town comfort that wrapped around your shoulders like a blanket. And it would appear the Chous had a lot to do with that. Including Birdy.