Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(4)

He ambled over to the far end of the table. “Ladies. Jefferson,” he said with a nod, pointedly avoiding further eye contact with me.

“We were talking, and we think it’s time you find some gym space,” Louisa announced.

The rest of the ladies nodded their heads emphatically.

“That seems to be the sentiment of the day,” Jonah said cryptically.

“I know not a one of us looks a day over fifty,” Gert said, patting her white hair. “But we shouldn’t be tripping over tree roots and free-range chickens to get to our Happy Hour workout.”

Happy Hour was the name residents over the age of sixty voted to call Jonah’s senior fitness class.

“Mona Lisa McNugget Number Five sure is more adventurous than Number Four,” Jefferson commented.

“Now, you wouldn’t just be trying to get me to settle down, Gram-Gram. Would you?” Jonah asked with a wink. Gosh, his smile was nice. No wonder the ladies loved him. Heck, I liked him, and he wasn’t even nice to me.

Gert, Cassidy and June’s grandmother, feigned innocence and pathologically lied her cute little butt off. “I have no clue what y’all are talking about. I’m looking out for your welfare. Why, imagine if Estelle here took a header over a chicken in the park and broke a hip.”

Everyone at the table, except for me, knocked on wood.

“What about the high school gym?” Jonah prodded. He was a personal trainer, and I doubted there was a single lady within town limits who wouldn’t be interested in him personally training her. I’d taken one or two of his boot camps before he became woefully misinformed and decided to dislike me. It was a shame. He was an excellent teacher, and I was in need of some athletic guidance.

“We just think you would do a better business, especially with the summertimers, if you had a dedicated gym space,” Mrs. Varney insisted.

“I’ll think about it,” he promised, smiling at the table. His gaze skipped over me.

I wondered if he would think about it. The man had come to town to get to know siblings he had never met only to find out that his biological father was the primary suspect in a years-old missing person case. Growing up without a father and then discovering the man might be a criminal? Unless he cemented his bonds with the rest of the Bodines, Jonah wouldn’t have a reason to stay in Bootleg. No reason to own real estate.

“You do that, Jonah,” Myrt insisted. She batted her lashes at him, and her glass eye glinted under the table’s chandelier.

“Care to join us for brunch?” Estelle offered.

“I’d love to ladies—and Jefferson—but I’ve got a family thing to take care of. You all have a nice weekend,” Jonah said and headed up to the counter where his to-go order was waiting for him.

I bet it was egg whites and veggies. Gross. The man was a paragon of health, and it showed. Rumor had it a pork rind had never crossed his lips.

“Henrietta Van Sickle is due in for supplies,” Jefferson announced, restarting the gossiping portion of the meal.

“Think Gert will get her to talk again?”

“You mean force the poor woman to demand to be left alone?”

“I am a delightful conversationalist,” Gert sniffed.

“You blocked the woman’s exit from the grocery store with your cart until she had to ask you to move,” Louisa argued.

“Still counts. She talked to me.”

I’d grown up in Charlotte and spent the last several years in Pittsburgh. The idea of a hermit sneaking into town once a month for supplies piqued my interest.

To be fair, just about everything in Bootleg Springs did. Including Jonah Bodine, I thought, idly watching him hustle out of the restaurant. He shot me a parting look before disappearing into the spring sunshine.

“Shelby, honey. Don’t you think it’s time to come clean with that boy?” Estelle asked.

I shrugged, tucking back into my eggs Benedict.

“I agree. The Bodines are practically the heart of this town. You need them if you’re going to write your fancy paper,” Mrs. Varney piped up.

They had a point. A small one.

“Your brother cracked the door open by moving in with June Tucker,” Jefferson noted. “Use that to your advantage. Show the Bodines they were wrong about you.”

“And I know just where you need to start,” Gert said slyly.





*



Q. What’s the most neighborly thing you’ve done for someone in your community?



Jefferson Waverly: I rear-ended Wade Zirkel last year at a stop sign to show my support for that Scarlett Bodine girl. Told the sheriff it was an accident cause of my bifocals. But that Zirkel fella knows the truth.





3





Shelby





The sounds coming from inside the cottage suggested I’d arrived at a bad time. Someone was swearing. Something was ringing. And something else was yowling.

I rapped briskly on the cottage door and pressed the doorbell.

There was a crash followed by a lot more swearing, and then the door opened.

“Well, what in the hell do you want?”

Scarlett Bodine glared at me and puffed out a breath to blow the mahogany hair out of her face. There was a cat attached to the leg of her jeans.