Page 9 of Lovewell Lane (Honeyfield Dreamers #1)

A few more minutes passed of Sam flirting with her before I returned with all the things I needed.

“Let’s go,” I grunted as I walked past the two. I felt Sam’s eyes on my back as I left the store to finish the job as fast as possible.

“I’ll hold the ladder for you,” Margo said.

“It’s self-supported, no need to hold it.”

“I’ll hold it anyway, just in case. Can’t have anyone thinking this place is cursed. If you die, I take the fall. Well— technically, you would fall— but I would be the one dealing with the repercussions.”

“Sorry to be a burden,” I snarked.

She smiled as I climbed the ladder. I wished she would stop doing that in my direction. “Are you superstitious?”

“No.”

“So you don’t believe in this supposed curse on the town? Because the founders broke up? Is that even true?”

“So many damn questions,” I mumbled. “Yes, it’s true. They split and Shellman moved on to start a complete disaster.”

“Shellman? I thought they were called Fields.”

“They were. When he left Honeyfield, Dean Fields changed his last name to Shellman; he no longer wanted to be associated with Honeyfield or his ex-wife.”

Margo blew out a gust of air. “Wow. Any name, and he chose Shellman ?”

I ignored her. “The curse is bullshit, though. It’s just greed that caused all this. Nothing mysterious or magical to it,” I said.

“Hm,” Margo pondered. “So he left the town abandoned? Couldn’t the wife run it?”

I sighed. “It’s a lot more complicated than that. He didn’t just leave. He still had the liquid cash to do what he wanted, since his wife only took their properties in Honeyfield in the divorce. Instead of fucking off, he established another city nearby. Renamed it and everything.”

“Oh, Shellville? Isn’t that the big city near here?”

“Yes,” I answered through gritted teeth.

“Horrible name,” Margo said. “Why is it always men that want their names plastered everywhere?

I let out a short laugh and hummed in agreement.

“So, the shitty city is negatively affecting Honeyfield? That’s why the Dreamers Initiative exists?”

“The mayor is an optimist,” I said through the nail that I held between my teeth.

“When did this all happen? Can we parent-trap them back together to save the town?”

“Way before I was born. Maybe fifty years ago? Honeyfield wasn’t immediately like this, though. It happened over time. When I was a kid, it was still pretty nice.”

“Oh,” Margo mumbled. She sounded genuinely disappointed. “We can still turn it around.”

“You just worry about your diner. Saving the world can come after that.”

“I can multitask.”

“Why a diner anyway?” I asked.

She was quiet. Possibly the quietest she’d ever been since she entered my life.

Except maybe when she joined us for family dinner.

She just directed twenty questions my way, and suddenly she couldn’t answer a simple one about herself?

I couldn’t help but lean back to look down at her from the roof.

Her head was down and she diligently inspected her shoes.

“I like baking, obviously,” she said. Another long pause. I could tell she was still working something out. “My dad ran a diner. He was a pretty cool guy, and I’d like to carry on the tradition.”

“Oh,” I said dumbly. Was . I knew a thing or two about dead parents. “How long ago did he pass?”

“It’s been, like, six years,” she answered.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay. It’s kind of stupid, but there was something about being in that diner, though, that felt like home. My dad seemed happy. I’d like to have that one day.”

“Not a bad reason,” I said. Honeyfield was the only home I’d ever had. I couldn’t imagine not knowing what or where home was. Must be lonely. “What about your mom?”

“A total mess,” she answered with a wet laugh. Fuck , was she crying? I debated putting down my nail gun to climb down the ladder and help her. But how the fuck do you comfort a stranger?

Margo continued, “She’s a likable mess sometimes, but as a whole, I’m more her mom than she was ever mine. If that makes sense.”

It did. “Slick takes more effort to parent than Tessa ever has,” I confessed. That was the right thing to say. She laughed again, and I heard her voice even out.

“He seems like quite the character,” Margo said.

“That’s one way to put it.”

I finished up my work while she continued keeping a hand on the ladder. Not that that would do anything in the case it collapsed, but something told me she just didn’t want to be alone. So we fell into silence.

My feet back on solid ground, I turned to her again while folding the ladder with my right hand. “You don’t have to stay here if you have things to do, I can handle the rest inside,” I said.

“I have to take measurements inside anyway. Falling off of a roof is one of the most common accidents where people get seriously hurt, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t die.” She paused. “For insurance purposes.”

“Right,” I said suspiciously.

Margo and her tape measure kept me company while I started working on her ceiling where the leak left damage. She turned up her music once again to fill the silence. This time, it was a mix of rock music and some guitar-heavy pop-like music that was, to my dismay, very catchy.

I took a break from my saw and climbed down to grab a drink from my bottle of water. Her hips swayed to the music, much like last night when she was dancing alone in her guest house.

Her eyebrows scrunched in to form a cute V between them while she focused on measuring the front wall of windows from top to bottom. “Are you going to need more counter space than this?” I asked.

She jumped at the intrusion of my voice.

Then she turned to stare offendedly over at the measly counter against the back wall.

“I’d like to have a bartop. So people can sit for a cup of coffee.

And it’d be nice to put the register on a counter facing out into the store, so I don’t have to turn my back to people. ”

Whenever she went on one of these tangents, it seemed like she was talking to herself, so I let her continue.

“I don’t know if I can afford it though.

Most of my budget is going to the kitchen appliances, but I need to leave room for decorations, tables and chairs, and a sign!

I want one of those cool retro ones out front. ”

I nodded. She looked at me expectantly. “Any thoughts?”

“I can help with the bartop,” I said.

“Oh, I meant about the decorations,” she said. “It’s more fun to talk about. How much do I owe you for this leak situation anyway? Like I said, budget is king.”

“Nothing, I’ll just charge you for the supplies to build the bartop. How big do you want it?”

She looked at me with wide eyes. “I can’t do that. I’m sure you have more important things. What about your business or your daughter? And your dad apparently needs–”

“I can multitask.”