Page 2 of Crossing the Line (Small Town Love #7)

Samantha groaned. "They wouldn't be able to get high enough to rip off your limbs. And really, just give them a healthy supply of yummy foods like those bugs in your garden, you're going to be just fine."

Her friend's reassuring words helped and so did the idea of having a bunch of little fuzzy then feathery creatures hanging around the house felt good.

As much as she loved her store, it was going to be nice to do things outside of Landy's. To have a better reason to go home after closing.

"If you want, I have the names of a few people around town who could help you with a coop down the road for when they go outside."

Instantly Janice's mind was full of all of the cute coop ideas she had saved on Pinterest.

"Oh, that would be great!" Janice felt her spirits lifting.

"I'll email you tonight with the links to a few carpenters that other people have raved about."

"I can't wait."

Samantha leaned in and gave her a wink. "A few of those carpenters are not at all hard on the eyes if you know what I mean."

"You mean like those TikTok where they're so hot you don't mind if every stick of furniture in your home breaks?"

Samantha snapped her fingers. "That's the kind of hot I'm talking about."

"Then please," Janice whispered a little too breathlessly, "send me those links."

"You got it, boss lady."

BIXBY

He had to admit that purchasing the sausage maker was an impulse buy. Just like the 3D printer he'd ordered for home and never really used beyond testing the thing to make sure it worked.

But bringing the sausage maker into the market had been a good idea.

A lot of people who came into Landy's Meats fancied themselves as foodies.

Bixby didn't mock it. It was kind of his bread and butter as a butcher.

If people just wanted a slab of meat or a large tray of ground something, they didn't come into Landy's.

Going into the butcher, they were looking for locally sourced meat or specialty cuts.

They valued knowing where their food came from and the kind of cuts that you could get when you know the butcher.

And there was now a steady stream of customers coming in to try out their creative recipes for custom sausage links.

It gave him a reason to call in a few of Janice's favorite people to help out.

Mirella Santini wheeled her handcart over, smiling and bouncing a little.

The baby in the sling around her chest was making little noises as she bounced him up and down. "Bixby! I have your herb order here."

She stopped the handcart and gestured at the two crates with one hand as her other continued to pat the back of her baby.

"I just dropped off my usual order with Janice. You had the bigger boxes, so I came over here second."

He looked at her, smiling. "Ahh... I'm second fiddle to Janice." He put his hand to his heart. "I'm hurt!"

Mirella rolled her eyes. "I can tell by your big grin and over-acting."

He lowered his hand to his stomach and groaned. "That one hit home."

Mirella reached out to pat him on the arm. "Poor boy."

He gave another groan for good measure and then laughed along with her. "I'm just a frustrated actor, grinding meat for my daily bread."

Mirella's raised eyebrow was followed by another pained look. "You really need some new material, Bixby."

He shrugged. "I've got years of dad jokes stored up but I'm not a dad. It's a strange existential crisis to have."

"Well, if you want to borrow one to burp and change diapers, come over to the house. I'm sure Teo would love to have backup."

Bixby held his hands up between them and waved her off. "No, thanks. I'm good. I like telling the jokes but wiping butts?" He cringed. "I'm not a big fan of that."

Mirella nodded. "I don't blame you. It's not something I enjoy either." She wrapped her arms around her baby who was grinning from ear to ear, drooling along the way. "He's a warm, cuddly bundle of drool, farts, and burps, but he's ours."

Bixby winced in commiseration. "I've had days like that, but I just take care of myself."

Mirella's expression changed to a grimace before she burst out laughing. Her son followed suit, but his laughter sounded closer to hiccups and then sniffles.

"Uh oh." Mirella sighed. "It's almost feeding time. Where should I leave the crates?"

Bixby looked down at the two crates on the hand cart.

"I've got 'em." He bent over and picked them up.

"One second, Mirella." He walked them back to the newly renovated food prep area and set the crates down on some butcher paper he'd put down ahead of time and took out his cell phone.

"Is the earlier invoice price the same?"

She nodded. "Perfect, but no rush."

Bixby gave her a look. "Well, I'm transferring it right now. If anything is wrong, please let me know."

He heard Mirella's cell phone ping with the incoming payment, but she didn't bother to check. Instead, she shifted her son in the sling and reached for the hand cart.

"I'll get that." He took the handles of the hand cart and headed for the door, opening it for Mirella and holding it open. "Did you park close?"

She nodded and pointed out her SUV on the street.

"Got a front row parking space. I barely had to walk and besides, the day is nice.

If I didn't find a space this close, I was planning on parking near Fertile Grounds and getting something sweet, but with no caffeine.

" She sighed. "But, I got this awesome space, so I'll go home and have some iced tea with Nonna. "

Mirella popped the trunk, and he folded the hand cart and set it in the back for her. "Thanks, Bixby."

"Anytime."

She opened the back door and started the engine before she took Fiore out of the sling. "When you figure out a good recipe with the rosemary, let me know. Nonna and Teo love rosemary seasoning."

Bixby waved at Fiore who gave him a toothless grin. "When I figure out a good recipe, I'll make some for you to pick up."

Mirella opened the driver's door and gave him a grin. "Or we'll just have you and Janice over for dinner! See you later!"

She waved and drove off before he could remind her that he wasn't a package deal anymore.

They hadn't been together for more than a decade, although he would bet good money that Janice could tell him how many years, months, days.

.. down to the minute since their divorce.

He just knew the boundaries that defined their lives.

The thick white line of paint between the butcher and the market.

The wall between his half of the house and hers.

The polite looks and sometimes sarcastic remarks spoken from one side of the store to the other.

Yes, they were sometimes at the same social events, but that didn't mean they were together.

As he stood out on the curb, looking around at the town of Saint Raphael.

It was the town he'd lived in most of his adult life. It was where he met his wife. Where he'd settled.

He couldn't see himself living anywhere else.

The door behind him opened and he heard Samantha before he saw her.

"Hey, Bixby. I'm going home."

"Home to the chickens or home home."

Samantha paused and then grinned. "It's all the same. Home is where the chickens are."

"I'm surprised Janice hasn't set up a coop in the backyard. She's been buying a lot of chicken themed stuff for the house."

Samantha narrowed her eyes at him, looking at him as if he was one of Janice's Sudoku puzzles.

Then she pursed her lips together and took a few steps back.

"Samantha?"

She turned around and got to her van a moment later, her hand on the door handle.

"Samantha!"

She let go of the handle and turned around. "Sorry to run, Bixby. I've got chickens to play with."

"What are you not telling me?"

Samantha pointed a finger at her chest and tried to look innocent.

Tried.

"Samantha?"

"Well," she shrugged, "it's not like you can say anything. She has her own backyard."

His chin dropped a little with a sigh. "Just say it."

"Janice is going to get chickens! Think of all the yummy, delicious eggs! That... uh... that she's going to eat when they start laying."

"Chickens?"

"They're adorable and they'll be super social."

"Social?" Why did he feel the weight of dread on his shoulders?

"You don't have to play with them."

"Won't they fly over the fence?"

Samantha rolled her eyes. "They'll stay where they know they can find food."

"And the noise?"

Samantha waved her hand at him. "You'll get used to it."

He groaned. "I already get up before dawn, so I doubt they'll wake me up."

"Oh, she's not getting a rooster, Bixby, just hens. You'll learn to love them."

"Uh," he drew in a breath, "remember, there's a wall-"

"And there's a line through the store, Bixby, but neither one stops the two of you from talking and seeing each other. Relax, Bixby, it'll be fun."

She quickly slipped into her van, and she was gone, leaving him outside wondering just how much these chickens were going to upset his world.

The door behind him opened up again and he heard Janice's voice.

"Bixby? You've got men frothing at the mouth in here for you to fire up that sausage machine and put that condom thing on it."

He swung around, his brow furrowed. "Condom thing?"

Janice made a gesture with her hands and made his brain go straight into the gutter.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Sausage casing, Janice. It's a sausage casing."

She snorted a laugh. "That's what you say, Bixby. Now come on inside. I'm not your secretary."

The door closed and he agreed.

She wasn't his secretary.

She wasn't even his wife anymore.

The thought hit him in the chest and left him aching.

He just didn't know why.