Page 21 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell (Rock Canyon, Idaho 7)

She held out a piece of paper to him, and he took it, reading over the bold print and a picture of a small dog in a Santa hat. “Whiskers in Wonderland?”

“Yes, if you’re interested, the Twin Falls Animal Shelter is doing a free adoption event in a few weeks. Apparently, someone came in and paid every available animal’s adoption fee so they could get homes for Christmas.”

Eric didn’t care about the adoption fee. He’d willingly pay anything for the right dog.

“Thanks, I’ll keep this in mind.”

H

e left the shelter and headed to the bar. He might as well get started on inventory since he had nothing else going on today.

His cell beeped, and he checked the screen. It was a text message from Jim Heeler, editor for the Rock Canyon Press.

Subscriptions are up. Nice work.

Eric grinned. When he’d first started writing for the Rock Canyon Press, he’d done it as a joke. It had been a type of therapy for him, writing about all the goings-on at the bar and the other gossip he heard from drunk patrons. Jim had loved it, especially after the first week’s response nearly doubled sales.

Still, Eric had never thought in a million years that “Small Town Scandals” would take off the way that it had. Or that people would love to hate his alter ego, Miss Know-It-All.

After a year and half of writing the column, he was actually surprised no one had figured it out. People loved to point the finger at Gracie or Mrs. Andrews. They were obvious choices, always putting their noses is everyone else’s business.

No one ever suspected the big, burly bartender they told all their secrets to.

Which made the whole thing just about perfect.

He texted Jim a thumbs-up pic, and put his phone into the cup holder. He might as well head into work, even though it was supposed to be his day off.

It wasn’t as though he had anything to go home to.

* * *

“There is no freaking way!” Gracie hissed, staring down at the newspaper column. Pip was sitting on the floor of Gemma’s bedroom, playing with one of the toys Connie Henderson had given her, and Gemma was lying in bed, snacking on a plate of almonds, cheese, and strawberries Gracie had made her.

“What did she say this time?” Gemma asked.

Gracie held the paper up to her face. “How in the hell did she know? It just happened this morning!”

Gemma took the paper and read aloud. “‘Looks like bachelor number… Well, I’ve lost count. Needless to say, everyone’s favorite barista has kicked another man to the curb. It begs the question: is there something wrong with them or her?’”

Gracie took the paper back and crumpled it in her fist. “If I ever find out who she is, she better run fast and far.”

“Oh, come on! There’s nothing wrong with you. You just haven’t met the one yet.” Gemma glanced toward Pip on the ground and shot Gracie a meaningful glance. “So, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” Gemma kept staring at her, and she shrugged. “She needed me, okay?”

Gemma took her hand and squeezed. “And that’s how I know there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Yeah, well…” Gracie looked around uncomfortably, searching for something else to talk about, when she spotted Gemma’s laptop. Gemma had been working on writing regency romances, but she had yet to finish one that Gracie knew about. “What are you working on? Handsome Hal’s turgid flesh?”

Gemma snorted. “More like staring at a blank screen. I just can’t concentrate when I’m tied down to this bed all day.”

Gracie took a drink of her iced tea. “Yeah, I hear that. I burned a pan of brownies this morning.”

Gemma’s eyebrow rose. “You burned brownies?”

“Amazing, right?” Gracie set her bottle of iced tea down on the side table and laid down next to Gemma. “We just need to forget men! Let’s be nuns.”

Gemma laughed. “I think you have to be a virgin to be a nun, and neither one of us are that. Besides, I think my husband might have something to say about that.”