Page 12 of Over the Moon (Rosewood River #3)

“Well, if you all choose to wear blinders, be my guest. If she plays on our team, I will walk.” Bridger spread some butter on a roll and set it down on Melody’s plate.

“Thanks, Unc-ee,” she said, which was damn cute coming out of that sweet girl’s little mouth. “What’s bwinders?”

“Blinders,” Bridger said, surprising me with how patient he spoke to his niece. “It’s when people show you who they are, and you choose not to see them.”

“Doesn’t Jelly Roll have a song about that, too?” Isabelle asked.

“What is the deal with Jelly Roll?” I leaned forward and whispered to Lulu and Henley.

“Ellie and Keaton went on tour for a few weeks with Jelly Roll. They followed him all over the US,” Lulu said. “And Isabelle and Carlisle joined them in a few cities.”

“They’re superfans,” Henley said over her laughter.

Keaton was still discussing the meaning behind the lyrics to a particular song, and Bridger looked displeased.

“Okay, can we move on from this ridiculous Emilia Taylor discussion? I get to start running in a few days, so cheers to that.” Clark held up his beer bottle and clinked it against my wine glass, and everyone joined in.

“I think Eloise might be a little stronger player than you are on the court, so I’ll leave it up to you guys to decide who plays,” Easton said, reaching for another roll.

“It all comes back to pickleball.” Rafe barked out a laugh.

“How do you assess who’s a better player? I’m one of the strongest dudes out there,” Clark said, and I chuckled at how defensive he was about it.

“It’s not like he said I was a better hockey player,” I said over my laughter.

“She’s correct. Although, I haven’t seen you play yet, Eloise.” Easton winked at me. “Clark, you’re good, but you tend to hit it out of bounds a lot. You use a little too much force. It’s all about finessing it over the net.”

Clark rolled his eyes and flipped Easton the bird.

“What’s that mean, Unc-ee?” Melody asked, staring down at her own fingers now.

“Well played.” Archer raised a brow at Clark. “Let’s not teach her every horrid thing we’ve got in our arsenal all at once, yeah?”

More laughter.

Like I said, this family was entertaining.

We finished up dinner, and everyone helped clear the table. The guys all jumped in and did the dishes while Ellie and Isabelle got dessert on the table.

Once we finished up, I joined Lulu and Henley for a glass of wine out on the patio.

It meant a lot to me that they’d invited me here. I hadn’t expected to feel so welcomed. So relaxed. My stomach hurt from how much I’d laughed.

And how much I’d eaten, too.

I finally understood why Clark wanted to be home while he recovered from his injury and trained for the new season. This family was warmth and kindness.

It was impossible to miss.

“Don’t listen to Bridger about Emilia. I think she’s great. Somewhere along the way, he just decided she’s the one behind the column, and once he gets it in his head, it’s hard to change his mind,” Henley said.

“Agreed. He’s being such a stubborn ass about it.

I really like her, and I feel bad that she’s being blamed for something she probably has nothing to do with.

” Lulu shook her head before continuing.

“I mean, look at my family. If I was held accountable for all the crazy shit they do, no one would ever speak to me.”

I chuckled. I liked these girls. It felt like I’d known them forever.

“I could just ask her directly. I mean, she’s brought it up and talked about it, but I could just ask if it’s her, right?” I said.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s an anonymous column, so I’m assuming the author wants to have anonymity.” Henley tapped her finger against her lips. “But she’d probably tell you the truth because you're friends.”

“And what would you do if she admitted it to you? She would swear you to secrecy.” Lulu laughed. “And does it really matter if it’s her? I mean, they aren’t writing horrible things.”

“True. Although the column gossips about things you might not want talked about, like Emerson’s fiancé cheating on her, and Easton briefly ditching me after our rafting accident.

And they loved writing about you and your ex-rock star boyfriend.

” Henley nodded her head at Lulu. “It’s not necessarily things we want discussed. ”

My head was spinning at all she just shared. “Emerson is their sister, right? Ellie mentioned her at dinner.”

“Yes. She’s married to Nash now, and they have the most amazing son. But she and her ex had been engaged, and he had an affair with her maid of honor,” Lulu said, eyes wide. “It was a big scandal back then according to Rafe. Her ex is a total douchebag. It’s his loss.”

“Wow. That’s a lot,” I said, leaning back and taking a sip of my wine. “And they can print whatever they want?”

“They don’t fully name anyone, but they give enough hints that, in a small town, everyone knows who they're talking about. Like you were referenced as the new lady trainer in this week’s column.” Henley fell back in laughter.

“I do not think Emilia would call me that, because first off, it’s slightly sexist. Why not just say the new trainer?” I insisted. “Would they say someone was a new male trainer if I were a man?”

“That’s a fair point, but what if she’s trying to throw everyone off her scent?” Lulu said. “That’s what I would do. I’d make it seem like it’s not me.”

“Could it be you, Lu?” Henley asked, arching a brow before falling back in a fit of laughter.

“Girl! I wish it were me. I’d love to claim that shit. It’s the highlight of my week, seeing what she has to report,” Lulu said.

“I just don’t know why Bridger is so convinced that Emilia is the one writing the column. She’s pretty busy with the flower shop, and she’s a part-time caretaker for her grandmother, as well,” I said. She and I had grown close. I felt like I knew her pretty well in the few weeks since we’d met.

I knew a good person when I saw one. And Emilia Taylor was good people.

Clark and Bridger walked out onto the patio.

“You three look like you’re conspiring,” Clark said, and a jolt of awareness shot through me as his light green eyes found mine. A rush of flutters hit my stomach, and I tried desperately to ignore it.

“We’re talking about the Taylor Tea ,” Lulu said, quirking a brow as she turned her attention to Bridger. “What if you found out that I was the one writing the column?”

He rolled his eyes. “Nice try. I have a gift for reading people. You’d never be able to keep a secret that big. Plus, you weren’t living here when this column first came out.”

“Touché,” Lulu said, before reaching for her wine glass.

“Dude, does it really matter?” Clark groaned. “I don’t really give a shit who writes it.”

“Really, brother? This woman said that you might be done playing hockey because of your injury. That shit is not okay,” Bridger hissed.

“But I’m not done. I’m practically back to 100 percent.” Clark waggled his brows, and damn if the man wasn’t sexy as hell. This is why, once again, alcohol and Clark Chadwick did not mix. “Right, Weeze?”

“I’d say you’re 92 percent there,” I chuckled.

“Loving the cute nickname,” Lulu said, as she leaned close to my ear.

Yeah, me too.