Page 41 of The Spite Date (Small Town Sisterhood #1)

His head whips up and he stares at me with the most comical oh shit, I’m caught expression.

Simon’s son is attempting to dognap Digger.

He has the rear door of the SUV open, and he’s using grilled chicken to try to lure the dog inside.

Digger’s already halfway up.

“You are so busted, dude,” Daphne says.

“The dog opened the car,” Eddie blurts.

Digger does his part and finishes jumping his sturdy body up into the SUV.

I snicker. “Uh-huh.”

“He did. I’m trying to get him out. Here, boy. Here, Digger-Digger. Get out of the car.”

“Did you know Ryker lost one of his dogs a couple weeks ago?” Daphne says.

Eddie’s eyes get big.

It’s like looking at a mini-Simon.

A mini, not-smiling Simon.

And something melts in my heart.

It’s a little something, but it’s also not.

Because I know exactly what that feeling is.

Protectiveness.

And not for Ryker.

Not for the dog.

For Eddie.

Dammit .

“Lost him how?” Eddie asks.

“She ran away and didn’t come back,” I answer. “He used to have three dogs. Now he’s down to two. And the cat. He’d be sad if he only had one dog. And the cat.”

Someone shouts in the backyard, and I pull my phone out of my pocket—best dress ever—and send a quick note to Simon. Daph and I are with Eddie. He’s fine.

“Don’t tell my dad,” Eddie says.

I hold eye contact with him. “You’re going to tell your dad.”

“But—but then he’ll never get us a dog.”

“Have you asked him for a dog?”

“All the time, and he keeps saying no because Mom’s too busy and he’s about to be gone too much,” he mutters. “But I can take care of a dog. Charlie and me both can. We can walk to the store and buy food and we can walk the dog and we can sleep with the dog and we can do all of the things.”

“Like picking up dog poop?” Daphne asks.

“That too. We can do it.”

I want to believe him.

Simon probably wants to believe him.

And he’s still a thirteen-year-old boy.

As is his brother, whom I suspect just faked a bee attack to facilitate this attempted dognapping.

Which wouldn’t have worked, by the way.

There’s zero chance Digger would’ve made it to the end of the driveway without barking inside the car, even if they managed to hide him under a blanket or something.

He hates car rides.

He also smells like a dog.

Someone would’ve noticed in four seconds flat.

“Can you tell him?” Eddie says. “Can you tell my dad we’d take good care of a dog?”

“Have you tried showing your parents that you’re responsible enough for a dog? Do you help with the dishes? And the cooking? Do you keep your rooms picked up? Do you do your homework on time?”

I feel four hundred years old as the words leave my mouth.

The number of times I had to say these exact words to my brothers—it’s bringing back all of the feelings about being thrust into the parent role at nineteen.

My parents were amazing, and I was grateful that I could step in and let my brothers finish growing up here in Athena’s Rest, but the responsibility wasn’t without resentment that I wasn’t getting to experience college and a job away from home and the parties and the freedom.

And the time to figure out who I wanted to be.

What I wanted to do with my life.

So I wouldn’t be twenty-nine and still floundering, wondering what my purpose is.

“But a dog is different,” Eddie says.

My brothers said the same thing. It’s like reliving history.

“When I was your age, I wanted polar bears,” Daphne tells Eddie. “My parents wouldn’t let me have one either.”

He makes another teenager face at her. This one’s you’re stupid . “Nobody can keep a polar bear for a pet. They’d eat you.”

Daph puts one hand on her hip. “My parents had enough money to buy an entire zoo. They could’ve gotten me a polar bear. And a polar bear keeper. And I could’ve had a polar bear that didn’t eat me because I could’ve raised it from birth to love me.”

Eddie gapes at her while I swipe a hand over my face to hide a smile.

Footsteps pound behind us.

Eddie looks past Daph and me, and he cringes.

“What on earth— Edward Richard Kent, are you stealing a dog? ”

I grab Simon by the arm before he can storm past me. “He wouldn’t have gotten away with it.”

“Between Bea knowing her brother’s tricks and me basically being one of her brothers in my youth, we were on to him,” Daph agrees.

“And Digger’s a barker who poops in cars,” I add.

Daph nods. “If you didn’t hear him, you would’ve smelled him.”

“You said we could get a dog but we don’t have a dog,” Eddie says. “It’s never going to happen if Charlie and me don’t make it happen.”

“ You don’t steal someone else’s pet .”

Whoa.

Simon’s actually pissed.

This is new.

No smiling or anything.

“She already lectured me,” Eddie grumbles.

“ Especially after they welcome you into their home and serve you good food and let you run loose and wild and pet their other animals.”

Eddie scowls at him.

Simon’s chest is heaving, and I don’t think it’s the running.

Pretty sure that’s anger.

“Bea, please thank your brother for a lovely evening. I must return home with my hooligans.”

“Simon?”

“Yes?”

Yep.

He’s pissed. Fuming pissed. And clearly uncomfortable with anyone seeing him this way.

“Remember their brains won’t be fully developed for another decade.”

“Even people without fully developed brains shouldn’t be booking secret parties and destroying the landscaping by digging for imaginary treasures and attempting to steal other people’s pets.”

“The man has a point,” Daph murmurs. “But my brain’s fully developed and I’d honestly go digging for imaginary treasures too, for the record.”

Simon squeezes his eyes together.

Tank and Pinky stroll past with Charlie between them.

I let Simon’s arm go. “I promise it gets better eventually.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Digger?” Ryker calls from behind us.

The dog barks once and takes off running for him.

Simon stares his boys down as they load into the back seat of the SUV.

“Good dinner,” Pinky says to me.

“You ever want to drop off more of that risotto, we won’t have you arrested,” Butch adds.

Daphne snickers.

Honestly?

I do a little too. “Appreciate that kind sentiment.”

He grins.

And then everyone’s in the SUV, and they’re pulling away from the farm.

And I’m sighing a sigh so deep, I feel it in my toes.

“I totally get why my parents hired nannies now,” Daphne says.

“What the hell was that?” Ryker’s joined us, clearly completely oblivious to the fact that Simon’s kids just tried to steal one of his dogs.

“You remember the guinea pig?” I ask him.

He stares at me.

Then looks at Digger.

Then looks at the dust cloud kicked up from the departing SUV.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters.

Daph lifts a brow at us.

I shake my head. “Let’s go do some dishes. And I need to pack up some of that strawberry shortcake.”

Daphne smirks.

Ryker sighs.

I ignore them both and head for the house.

A summer fling is supposed to be more sex and less talking.

But we’ll get there.

Hopefully.