The Lemon Sisters (Wildstone #3)(62)

“Was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Oh.” His dad pulled off his ball cap and scratched his head before putting the hat back on. “Just visiting some old friends.”

Garrett really wanted to believe this, but he didn’t. This campground was one of the few in the area that didn’t charge overnight fees, making it a favorite spot for the homeless.

Snoop padded over, looking at Garrett with big, soulful brown eyes as he dropped his tennis ball at Garrett’s feet, his tail sweeping the ground as it waved back and forth.

Squatting low, Garrett stroked his hand down the dog’s back. “Hey, Snoop.”

Snoop promptly melted into a puddle at Garrett’s feet for a few pets. Garrett obliged, then picked up the ball and threw it.

Snoop happily chased after it, ears flopping, tail going a mile a minute.

“Now you’ve done it,” his dad said. “He’s going to want you to throw it until your arm falls off.”

And sure enough, Snoop came back with the ball.

Garrett threw it again. “Are you living out here, Dad?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

If only he could believe that, too. He threw the ball for a few more minutes and then turned to his dad. “I’m going to ask you again. Do you need money?”

“Absolutely not.”

All right, then. With nothing else to say, Garrett got back into his truck and left.

Twenty minutes later, he was at the store. In the first aisle he ran into Callie, the woman Mindy had tried to set him up with. She looked over his cart, which held beer and eggs so far. “Okay, so you’re clearly still single. Should I give you a second chance?”

At any other time, he’d have jumped on that. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the night he’d spent with Brooke—in Brooke and on Brooke and . . . well, every which way with Brooke. Somehow, in spite of his efforts, she was worming her way in, knocking down his walls one by one, which was probably why he’d been such an asshole to her. Grimacing, he scrubbed a hand down his face, but no matter what he’d told her, he knew that for as long as she stuck around, there wouldn’t be another woman for him.

With a regretful smile, Callie moved on.

He was still reeling from his epiphany when he ran into Linc in aisle five, pushing an overloaded cart with one arm and carrying Maddox, barking at high decibels, surfboard-style under the other. Linc still had a stethoscope around his neck, but his tie was loose and his hair was crazy. The mystery of this was solved when he shoved a hand through it as he reviewed what appeared to be a shopping list.

“Your kid’s barking,” Garrett said.

“I know.” Linc set Maddox down. “He’s got to go to the bathroom. We’re almost done here. I think. Mindy’s got tampons on the list. Did you know there’s fifty-five different kinds of tampons? Regular, super, scented, unscented, with applicator, without applicator . . . I mean, what the hell do you do without an applicator?”

Garrett shrugged. “Hedge your bets and buy one of each.”

Linc sighed.

“You figure out what to do about the smoothie shop yet? You keeping it or selling it?”

Linc slid him a look. “You really think I should sell? You don’t think she’s going to change her mind once she calms down? What if I sell and then she can’t work there anymore?”

Maddox barked louder.

“Almost done here, buddy,” Linc said, and turned to Garrett expectantly.

“Okay,” Garrett said. “Let’s put it this way. What I think is . . . you’re screwed either way. The Lemon sisters don’t really do calm.”

Linc nodded grimly, then sighed. “Slip ’N Slide upgrade later?”

“Yeah, I drew up a new set of plans. The kids are gonna love the new course. It’s Olympic quality.”

They bumped fists and were about to go their separate ways when suddenly Maddox stopped barking. He’d shoved his pants to his ankles and was peeing into the bin of dog toys on the bottom shelf.

“Nice choice, kid,” Garrett said, and went to move past Linc as if he’d never met the guy.

“Seriously?” Linc called after him.

Garrett ran one more errand and then he was on the road again. The sun was setting, but he had no trouble seeing that his dad’s truck was still in the parking lot of the campground.

Yeah. He was definitely living there.

This time when he pulled into the parking lot, no one else was in sight. He got out of his truck and popped the hood on his dad’s. He replaced the old spark plugs with the ones he’d bought at the auto parts store. Interestingly enough, though the truck was a piece of junk, it was clean. There was a single suitcase in the truck bed. In the back seat were a dog bed, a bag of dog food, a bag of tennis balls, and two dog bowls.

Snoop was living better than his owner.

There was a phone on the dash. A burner. With only a twinge of conscience, he violated his dad’s privacy and opened the phone.

Garrett was the only contact in it.

With his gut in knots, he followed the scent of a campfire and found a small, raggedy-looking group of people seated on logs around it. In the background was a cluster of equally raggedy lean-tos and tents.

His dad looked up and paused. He rose with some difficulty, as if he was stiff and sore, prompting Garrett to start to reach out to steady him, but the stubborn old man shook his head. “I’ve got it. Everyone, this is my son, Garrett.”