Page 17 of Over the Moon (Rosewood River #3)

“Okay, I’ll set it up. I’m going to get going. They just texted that they are on their way. I’ll see you later.” I gave her a quick hug and stopped by the guesthouse to grab the bottle of wine I got to bring to dinner.

I walked the short distance to the Chadwicks’ home, and my stomach was in knots because something seemed off with Clark. I checked my phone one more time, and he still hadn’t responded to my text.

It was a ridiculous text of course, because I just wanted a reason to message him.

I asked if I left the notebook there, even though I already knew I’d left it there.

But he hadn’t responded, which was unusual.

Before I even knocked, the door swung open, and Lulu and Henley were standing there smiling.

“We have a lot to discuss,” Lulu said, pulling me inside.

“Yes, we’re already addicted to the book. How have I not been reading romance all these years?” Henley said as they led the way inside. “I mean, this guy is one smoking-hot hockey player.”

“Right? It’s addicting. Emilia and I were thinking maybe the four of us could do a book club.”

“Yes!” Lulu shouted, before bursting out in laughter. “Booze, brunch, and books. Let’s make it our thing.”

“I’m in,” Henley said, just as we stepped into the kitchen.

I quickly assessed the room, noting that Clark was absent.

Was he avoiding me?

“Sweet Eloise, I’m so happy to see you,” Ellie said, as I handed her the bottle of wine. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me so tight, it made my chest squeeze.

This family was so warm and kind, and I’ve never felt so comfortable with people I’d only met a couple of weeks ago.

“Thank you so much for having me. I’ve heard your lasagna is the best.” I squeezed her hand when she pulled back.

“Is Clark bragging about my lasagna?” she chuckled. “It’s his favorite. Such a shame he’s not going to be here. But I’ll wrap some up and have one of you take it to him on your way home.”

“Oh, is he sick?” This is something I should definitely know as his trainer.

“Well, he’s been puking his brains out since yesterday,” Bridger said, walking up beside me. “If it ends up in the Taylor Tea , I’ll assume you passed the information on to your landlord.”

I was still processing his words, but my mind was on Clark.

Had he gone out with those women and partied too hard?

Had he taken one of them home, or was he really sick?

Why was I hoping that he was really sick and not lying in bed with another woman while they both suffered from hangovers?

I was an awful person. I actually wanted him to have the flu.

“Her landlord?” Lulu said from behind me, pulling me from my thoughts. “Emilia is her friend. In fact, she’s our friend, too. I like her. We’re starting a book club.”

He let out a loud breath before reaching for his beer bottle on the counter. “Then I’ll expect all the family secrets to be printed every week.”

“Hey, what if we test your theory? You know, we could say something that isn’t true, and see if it gets printed,” Henley said. “And then when it doesn’t get printed, you can drop this vendetta against the poor girl.”

“Oh, are we talking about Cara Carmichael?” Easton said, snatching a carrot stick off the vegetable platter sitting on the kitchen island.

“I wouldn’t call Cara Carmichael a poor girl,” Lulu said, as Rafe came up behind her and handed her a glass of Chardonnay. “Harvey Lawson is easy on the eyes, if you know what I mean.”

“He sure is,” Henley said over her laughter. “He could be George Clooney’s doppelg?nger.”

“Please, he’s not that good-looking,” Easton and Rafe said at the same time before clinking their beer bottles together.

Keaton asked what I wanted to drink, and he left to get me a glass of wine.

Ellie leaned into the huddle we were standing in. “He really is that good-looking.”

The room erupted in laughter, just as Axel and Archer walked into the kitchen with Melody. Their parents were out of town this weekend, so they weren’t going to be at dinner.

“Why are they giggling, Daddy?” Melody asked, surprising me when she reached for me from her father’s arms.

I scooped her into my arms, settling her on my hip, and she smiled, her little cherub cheeks round and pink. Her hair was tied up in two little buns at the top of her head. She was by far the cutest kid I’d ever met.

“They think Harvey Lawson is good-looking,” Bridger grumped. “That dude always looks like he’s up to something.”

“Well, he is,” Rafe said. “He’s been busy knocking up Cara Carmichael.”

“Isn’t she good friends with Harvey’s daughter?” Easton asked.

“You guys are a bunch of nosy hens,” Ellie said, waving her hand around. “I’ve known Harvey for a long time, and it’s good to see him settling down. He’s a good guy.”

“We’re not the nosy hens,” Easton said, holding his hands up and chuckling. “I didn’t know about him and Cara. I read it in the paper.”

“Correct. You can thank Emilia for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong once again,” Bridger grumped.

“The flower girl, I love her,” Melody said, clapping her hands together.

“You love getting your bouquet, don’t you, angel face?” Archer said, winking at his daughter.

“He gets her pink roses every Saturday,” Ellie whispered in my ear. “He’s such a good dad.”

“The flower girl?” Bridger grumped.

“She owns the flower shop where Archie gets her flowers,” Rafe said, quirking a brow.

“Well, just don’t tell her any secrets.” Bridger slammed the rest of his beer, just as Ellie told everyone it was time to eat.

We all carried platters into the dining room, and I spent the next hour laughing harder than I had in a long time.

They talked about Rafe and Lulu’s new toilet, which had the entire table roaring in laughter.

Then the conversation switched to the fact that Bridger had struggled to read the menu at the diner because the words were blurry, and his mother urged him to go to the eye doctor, for what was apparently not the first time.

“Fine, I’ll go. But you know I have a weird thing about my eyeballs.”

“What’s wrong with your balls, Unc-ee?” Melody asked.

More laughter.

“He can’t touch his balls. It gives him the creeps,” Easton said.

“He said my toilet gave him the creeps, too, so he’s clearly being dramatic,” Rafe added over a mouthful of pasta, and Ellie shook her head and chuckled.

“Hey, I don’t want to take a shower when I’m taking a poop. Sorry, Melody.” Bridger reached for his water.

“Why did you apologize to Melody? It’s my toilet.” Rafe arched a brow.

“Because I said poop.”

“Is poop a bad word now, too?” Axel asked.

“No. Everybody poops. Right, Daddy?” Melody said, as her little head fell back in a fit of giggles.

“Yep. They sure do.” Archer smiled down at his daughter. “And you do know you can get glasses if you can’t handle putting contacts in your eyes.”

“You probably just need readers. It’s not that big of a deal,” Keaton insisted.

“Fine. I’ll go this week,” Bridger said, not hiding his irritation.

“Good. It’s best to just get checked.” Ellie pushed to stand. “I’ll get dessert ready. And I’m going to pack up a to-go box for Clark. Who wants to drop it off at his house?”

“Oh, I’ll take it to him. It’s on my way home,” I said, looking up to see Bridger studying me.

No one else thought twice about it. It wasn’t on the way home; it was in the other direction.

But this town was small, and I didn’t mind a longer walk home.

“That way I can see if he’s going to be up for practice tomorrow or not. ”

Because the truth was, I missed him.