Page 33 of Will Bark for Pizza (Bluebell Springs #1)

TWENTY-FOUR

KIRA

Stars illuminated the night sky as I walked Husker along a hard-packed trail that led to the boat dock.

The party was still in full swing, more than three hours after Uncle Karl and Aunt Wendy showed up.

Thankfully, the surprise was a pleasant one for Wendy.

Maybe they’d start using the cabin again. It was a shame for it to sit empty.

But if they didn’t, maybe I could buy it.

Or at least rent it, if they weren’t ready to part with it.

Beckett’s question about whether or not I thought about moving home played on repeat in my head all night, whispering in the back of my mind during every conversation I held with anyone.

There really was nothing left for me in Omaha but bad memories and writer’s block. Lila was the only friend there who survived my Dark Ages. I pushed the others away too far, and I couldn’t blame them now for ignoring my messages.

But could I truly be happy here if I had to watch Mom’s bookstore be dismantled and turned into God-knows-what?

Not for the first time, I wished I knew a way to save it. I didn’t know shit about running a bookstore, which only frustrated me more. All those years I spent in Denver after college, I could have been home, learning the business. I could have stepped in after Mom passed instead of Margene.

Fucking Margene Miller.

Instead, I found a job in Omaha so I could follow Travis when he transferred from Denver.

I thought being in Colorado would be too hard after Mom left us. That maybe she brought Travis into my life as a way to ease the sting of her loss, and nudge me on a new adventure.

If I only knew the special hell that awaited me one state over, I’d never have left.

But even if I’d stayed close, it was never my dream to run a bookstore. I wanted to write the books that lived on their shelves. Once upon a time, I had aspirations of being a household name, scheduling book tours around the country, and someday seeing my books on the big screen.

I went from dreaming big to allowing outside influence to turn me small. Travis fed on every insecurity, cementing my fears that I wasn’t good enough to make it. That my success was nothing more than a fluke that might unravel at any given time.

Now, I was too chicken to even own up to being Diana Davenport, much less travel the country on tour.

“What do you think, Bubbies?” I asked Husker as we stepped out onto the boat dock cloaked in darkness. It would be the perfect hiding spot until someone parked nearby turned on their headlights. “Do you want to move home?”

A nagging whisper in the back of my mind tried to convince me I was only interested in moving back because of Beckett. A man I barely knew. A very off-limits man.

I wouldn’t hate being around him more, even if nothing ever came of it.

But he wasn’t the reason.

At least, I was ninety-nine percent certain he wasn’t the reason.

Ninety-five.

Okay, like ninety.

Beckett or not, it was the family and friends I missed most. The closeness. The connection. If I could find a way to preserve the bookstore before Dad sold the inventory—and maybe kidnap Lila—Bluebell Springs might make sense. Hell, even Luke wasn’t being as cold to me as he had a few days ago.

Husker lay down at the edge of the dock as I kicked off my flip-flops and dangled my bare feet above the chilled water.

I wished, not for the first time, that I remembered my sweatshirt.

Despite the unusually warm evening, it was still much cooler here than Omaha’s humid summer nights.

I’d rather deal with goose bumps than swampy sweatiness, though.

I rubbed the back of Husker’s neck, certain he appreciated the friendlier temperatures with all that Husky fur.

He was so happy here, surrounded by people he loved instead of being stuck with only me in the apartment, bored out of his mind as I spent my days writing—or stressing about not writing, as I had this past year.

“Bubbies, leave it,” I warned him when he scooted farther forward, dipping his head over the side, no doubt catching a flicker of pondweed in the sliver of moonlight.

He grumbled in response.

“And what are you going to do if you fall in?” I asked him, as though he understood every word. “Do you want to get wet?”

He looked back at me, his head tilted at that sharp angle that made him extra adorable, and usually resulted in bonus treats. I was about to admit as much when I heard the light chatter of male voices.

I stiffened, hoping to remain unnoticed on the edge of the dock. After hours of socializing, I was a little spent. I craved my solitude. But I also wasn’t ready to head back out to the farm.

“I wanted to give this place one last hoorah. For Aaron. He loved it out here.” Was that .

. . Uncle Karl ? He had an unmistakable gruff voice that tended to travel in clearings.

I leaned back, as though that alone would help me hear their conversation better.

“But I don’t plan to make this a regular thing. ”

I let out a sigh. That was too bad.

Or maybe it was exactly the permission I needed to ask Karl about renting it myself.

I was a couple of weeks away from having to make a decision on my apartment lease. Was this the sign I needed to take the leap and make the move?

“You’re still planning to sell, then?”

Beckett ?

What the actual fuck?

Why was Beckett Campbell having this conversation with my uncle?

“If you’re still looking for somewhere to settle. I know you have other options?—”

“I’m definitely interested in this one. Luke mentioned something about rent-to-own?”

Luke? I was going to kill my brother. He might still be a little sore at me for last year, but we were at least back to being amicable to one another.

Why the hell didn’t he say something to me about the cabin?

Uncle Karl had talked about selling the place a few times over the past decade, but he always backpedaled. This time, it sounded serious.

“I’d rather be free and clear of the place, if I’m being honest,” Karl said.

“Wendy, too.” Wendy? She didn’t bring it up when we met for an afternoon coffee date the other day.

“But I’m sure we can work something out.

I heard you’re also buying the bookstore, so I understand the timing isn’t great. ”

“I can make it work.”

What. The. Fuck.

This was why I didn’t let my guard fall anymore when it came to a man.

Because no matter how sweet they pretended to be, they were always looking out for themselves first. Beckett didn’t give two shits about me or what I wanted.

And why would he? He didn’t know me. Not really.

He’d been accepted into the family in my absence, and suddenly everyone was trying to sell him everything that meant anything to me. What was next? The fucking farm ?

I wanted to march off to my Jeep and peel out of here. But I couldn’t leave the dock without exposing myself.

“Why don’t I give you a call next week and we can talk this over? I might have Owen facilitate the paperwork.”

“Sounds good,” Beckett agreed.

I wondered if Aspen knew her dad was selling the place. But of all people, she would have told me. Right? Right?

Gah, I hated how one twist made me question everything and everyone close to me. How I still struggled to trust anything.

“Would you mind keeping this between us, for now?” Karl asked. “Wendy and I want to talk to the kids first.”

So, Aspen didn’t know. I let out a breath.

“Of course,” Beckett said.

“I better head back to check on Wendy.”

I waited on the dock for Beckett to return to the party with Karl, willing my racing heart to slow so I could make a plan.

Though a handshake among friends was as good as a signature in this town when it was among friends, I might still have time to talk to Karl before the deal was official.

He might change his mind if he knew someone in the family actually wanted the place.

Maybe I should go back to the party and mention my interest ?—

Splash!

“Husker!”

Fucking pondweed.

I didn’t think twice. I jumped in after him, worried his leash would wrap around a pole and prevent him from resurfacing.

“Kira? ”

Fuck. Beckett.

“Go away. I got this.”

“You okay?”

“You’re all right, Bubbies,” I said to Husker, ignoring Beckett.

I scooped my dog into my arms and walked him to the shore.

He could probably swim, but I wasn’t going to test that theory in the dark.

His eyes were wider than normal, and he looked like a rattled, drowned hyena who’d eaten too much pizza. Startled, but otherwise unscathed.

“What happened?” Beckett asked, wading into the water to meet us, soaking his boot-clad feet in the process.

“I don’t need your help,” I growled.

“Kira,” he said softly.

“Go away.”

“You heard that, then?”

He took Husker from my arms and set him on the shore, catching the leash handle with one boot so Husker couldn’t run off.

Beckett offered a hand to me that I only begrudgingly took because the bottom of the lake seemed extra slick, and I was struggling to get to dry land on my own.

With any luck, I’d slip and pull the jerk into the cold water with me.

“I thought we just agreed. No more secrets.”

“Kira, I haven’t even had a chance to tell you.

” I wanted his tone to be condescending.

It would be so much easier to be mad at him if it were anything but the gentleness that it was.

“Everyone told me Karl wouldn’t sell. And after he decided to throw a party out here, I thought that was it.

This conversation was a complete surprise to me. ”

“Is that why you were out here the other day?” I asked, unable to quiet the chattering of my teeth as Husker shook off gallons of water.