The Lemon Sisters (Wildstone #3)(14)

He gave her a one-shouldered shrug. Right. None of her business. She was racking her brain on how to start the difficult conversation she needed to have and came up with nothing.

“Don’t you have to get the kids?” he asked into the awkward silence.

Crap! “Yes! Gotta run!” Ignoring his low laugh, she raced out of there.

Forty-five minutes later, they were back, and there was no sign of Garrett. She didn’t know if she was relieved or . . . not relieved. She’d barely set her backpack down when Millie came to her, face worried. “I can’t find my candy.”

Uh-oh. “I’m thinking your mom probably doesn’t even allow candy in this house,” Brooke said.

“But my camp boyfriend gave me a bag of SweeTarts. They were under my pillow.”

Yep, that’s right where Brooke had found them when changing the sheets. Just before she’d eaten them. “You have a camp boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“You’re eight.”

“He’s eight, too.”

“Does your mom know?”

“She told me I couldn’t have a boyfriend.”

“I’m here to second that,” Brooke said firmly.

“And Daddy said I couldn’t have a boyfriend until he was old or dead, whichever came second.”

Brooke nodded. “I second that, too.”

“But he’s not really my boyfriend.”

“Good,” Brooke said. “So why did you call him that?”

“So he’d give me his candy.”

Oh boy. “Honey, that’s not cool.”

“I know. But I told him the truth, that I only liked him cuz of his candy, and he gave it to me anyway. Do you think a bad guy came in and stole it?”

No, not a bad guy. A bad aunt.

“Will you help me look?” Millie asked.

“Sure,” Brooke said, just as she caught sight of Garrett coming through to refill his water bottle, a mocking—and annoying—smirk on his face. He waited until Millie was head deep into the clothes hamper, searching, before he mouthed a single word to Brooke.

Monster.

Then he walked out of the room. She did her best to shrug it off as she and Millie “searched” the house for the “stolen” candy. They were in the hallway, Millie melting down and Brooke close to doing the same—how the hell did Mindy do all this and work the smoothie shop thirty hours a week?—when Garrett reappeared and tossed a packet of candy to Millie.

SweeTarts.

He’d replaced them. His gaze met Brooke’s. He was still smiling, but as whenever he looked at her, the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Monster . . .

He’d been joking, but she’d taken the word to heart because she knew that it was actually true.





Chapter 4


“Sometimes you just need to lie in bed and rest for a couple of years.”

Mindy’s plan had been to sleep in Brooke’s condo for three days straight. She managed two days, not leaving the bed except for the important things, like when the remote fell off the nightstand, or to answer the door for Tommy, who’d marathoned Law & Order: SVU with her, and then dragged her out to eat at the most amazing places. She’d told herself that whatever calories she consumed while on brain vacay didn’t count. And for the first time in her life, she’d been grateful for Linc’s one-text-a-day rule. It meant she hadn’t yet had to admit she’d sent the kids off with the sister she hadn’t seen in a year.

As for work, the only thing she’d had the energy to do had been to call into the shop. Though she had a wonderful assistant manager, Xena, a longtime coworker whom she trusted, she knew Xena hadn’t counted on being in charge for an extra couple of days. Keeping the scheduling, deliveries, and bookkeeping in order was more than a full-time job, and it was a lot to ask of someone. For a while now, it’d been too much for Mindy. Running the shop had gone from something she loved to something that took too much of her time and effort and completely drained her. The only thing she’d missed about work in the last two days was the baking she did to sell out of the shop’s front display, because baking fueled her soul.

“No problem!” Xena had said easily when Mindy got a hold of her. “My horoscope said there’d be a new opportunity for me this week because Jupiter and Earth are aligned. You do you, sweetness, you’ve been high-strung for a while now.”

Mindy winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Burn some sage, cleanse your aura. Just worry about yourself. I’ve got this.”

Mindy hung up, feeling better about that one area of her life, at least. She’d spent most of her life trying to be perfect, which had finally sucked the soul out of her and left her feeling like she was free-falling into an abyss.

She didn’t know how to do it anymore.

She was lying in Brooke’s amazing bed, smelling delicious from all Brooke’s products, going through Instagram, when she came upon a post of Linc’s. His account was private, and usually his pics were of her and the kids. But today there was a pic of him at his conference. He was looking extremely handsome in a suit, sitting at a table surrounded by his colleagues, all male except the woman at his right. Linc had thoughtfully typed in everyone’s names: Dr. Gerry Lepenksky, Dr. Carlos Ramirez, Dr. Scott Wells, and Dr. Sam Whitney, all of whom she’d heard him mention many times. What had not been mentioned was that Sam was a woman. A tall, beautiful, auburn-haired woman who was smiling at Mindy’s husband like maybe he was lunch and dinner and dessert all in one.