Page 15 of Will Bark for Pizza (Bluebell Springs #1)

The question nearly broke me, but I pulled back the tears before they could fully form.

“What I care about more is, are we okay?”

Connor collected an egg, looking back at me as he placed it in the basket. “We’re family, Kira. We were always okay.”

I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t trust the chickens. I preferred to wait outside the coop in the enclosure, where it was safe. The hens and I had a complicated relationship, on account of me being Husker’s mom.

“I really am sorry.”

“You done apologizing?” he asked, coming back out with a dozen eggs in his basket, and closing the rounded coop door behind him.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Good.”

I glanced back across the spacious yard—some grassy, some rocky—that separated our grandparents’ large log cabin and Connor’s smaller three-bedroom home.

Husker was behaving himself, sitting like a sphinx beside the garden with Opal.

Grandma Connie tossed something to him, and he caught it.

Opal’s laughter echoed softly. She’d grown so much in the past year.

She was at least two inches taller, her hair longer.

I made a silent vow not to wait so long between visits ever again .

“How have you been?” I asked Connor.

“Come on, Kira. Is that what you really want to ask me?”

“I’d ask if you knew why Dad was selling the bookstore, but I’m guessing you’re not allowed to tell me, either.”

“Margene.” He answered so quickly, I hardly had time to register he did anything other than blow me off.

“Margene? Is she buying it?” Margene was the bookstore manager who took over after Mom’s passing.

“Buying it?” Connor shook his head as he set the basket of eggs just inside the back door of his house.“More like robbed it clean.”

“What?”

“She’s been stealing from the bookstore for years,” Connor said, heading back toward the family garden. “It’s on the verge of bankruptcy. So, go easy on Dad, okay? He has his hands tied here.”

Halfway back to the garden, my phone rang. I shivered at the name on the screen.

“It’s Dad.”

“You should probably take it.”

I hung back, swiping to answer the call just as a black truck pulled in. It seemed vaguely familiar, but everyone in this town either drove a truck or a Jeep-like vehicle. Probably just some local wanting to chat it up with Grandpa. I turned away to focus on the call.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Kira, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m going to come right out and tell you.”

“I know. ”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I know you’re selling the bookstore.”

“You do?” He let out a heavy sigh, and I felt the weight of his decision echo. If Connor hadn’t given me a heads up, I might’ve gone off on him and made this so much worse.

“Yeah. I’m in town, actually. Are you coming to family dinner at the farm tonight? We could talk after?—”

“Maybe it’s better if you and I have a chat by ourselves. How about I pick up a couple of steaks and you come on over to the house?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be over in half an hour?”

“See you then.”

I stood frozen for several beats. Something about his tone at the end left me with an overwhelming sense of dread. I had a feeling I wouldn’t much care for this conversation. But I’d come all this way, at Mom’s beckoning. The least I could do was hear him out.

As I approached the garden to ask Grandma Connie if she’d keep an eye on Husker, I noticed Connor greet the man in the black truck. Maybe he was a delivery guy?

“Who—”

“I’ll watch Husker,” Opal said, as though I asked her to do just that. I looked at her, wondering if she’d developed a mind reading ability in the past year.

“Thank you, Opal.” I looked at Grandma Connie and added, “I’m going to head over to Dad’s.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“Don’t feed him too much P-I-Z-Z-A,” I said to both of them as I followed everyone inside the house. Husker went straight for the kitchen—no surprise there. “And absolutely no onions.”

“I ordered the supreme without them,” Grandma Connie reassured me.

I washed my hands, grabbed my keys, and headed to my Jeep.

“Hey, Kira,” Connor called to me, waving his arm from the opposite side of the black truck.

Though I planned to stop by and pick up Dad’s favorite local brew on the way to his place, I was still running early. Maybe Connor had some more advice to give me before I walked into this heavy conversation. It was worth hearing him out, so I walked over.

“I can’t remember. Have you met Beckett?”

When my eyes locked on the other man, my heart stuttered a few beats. It was Mr. Sexy Stranger.

“You again,” I said, shaking my head in amusement. Because, of course it was too much to hope I’d be able to steer clear of this mysterious man who kept popping up everywhere I went. Including my family’s farm.

“Red?”

“It’s Kira,” I said, admitting defeat.

“I should’ve known that was you,” he said, nodding toward my Jeep.

“You two have met?” Connor guessed, his eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“We’ve run into each other,” I admitted, my gaze still locked with Beckett’s. God, even his name was sexy.

“You must be the author.”

I snapped my gaze to him, instantly feeling uncomfortable that he possessed that knowledge when he only just learned my name.

My heart rate spiked before I could stop it.

It took several beats for the irrational paranoia to pass.

If he was friends with Connor, it wasn’t impossible to think I came up in conversation at some point.

Connor bragged about his family more than any of us.

I willed my pulse to chill the fuck out, silently cursing Travis for the tenth time today.

“And you must be?”

“He served with us,” Connor explained. “Beckett Campbell?”

“ You’re Campbell?” My brothers had always referred to their fourth musketeer by his last name. They talked about him all the time, especially during deployment calls. I’d never seen his face, but in many ways, I felt as if I knew him. I didn’t know what to do with that information now.

“Afraid I am. Is that a bad thing?”

I remembered how observant Beckett was out at the lake. Suddenly, it made a lot more sense. He had military training.

“Guess you’re not a serial killer after all,” I said, letting out a single laugh.

Connor gave me a funny look, but it was Beckett’s amused smile that captured most of my attention.

Just because he was no longer a complete stranger did not mean this was okay.

If anything, it made Beckett Campbell completely off-limits.

Probably for the best, considering I was still a certified train wreck.

Though my wandering eyes—that were currently sneaking up-and-down glances of the man in his dusty jeans and tight-fitting shirt—hadn’t yet gotten the memo.

Beckett shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint you. ”

“Did I miss something?” Connor asked as Luke’s police cruiser came up the driveway. Definitely my cue to leave.

Beckett and I shared a conspiratorial glance that seemed to say I won’t tell if you won’t tell .

“Not really,” I said.

“I can assure you that your new roommate is not a serial killer,” Connor said. He also said something about him being a helluva guy, but I didn’t make much out after the word roommate .

“I better go,” I said, turning on my heel and power walking to my Jeep, suddenly desperate to get off the farm as quickly as possible.

Roommate .

Well, shit.