Page 58 of When In Doubt

Shit, this girl is gonna fucking wreck me.

Chapter Nineteen

FREYA

“Iwas kind of hoping she’d bring the cat,” Oscar says quietly as Gloria leaves. He’s two rungs up on a stepladder, helping me unpack everything we took to Denver.

I came in this morning to find him waiting outside the front door, hot chocolate in hand and a refusal to hear me every time I tried to shoo him away. It’s been two days since we got back. I wanted some time to recover before tackling the mess, but I probably should have done it yesterday when the store was closed.

“Me too!” I whisper-yell, watching Gloria tuck her coat tighter around herself as she crosses the street. “I kinda feel like everyone is messing with me at this point.” People keep telling me Gloria walks around town with her cat in a baby sling, but I’ve yet to see conclusive proof.

“Next time I see it, I’ll sneak you a picture,” he replies. I don’t know how Oscar knew I was sorting everything today, but thank God he’s here. I would not have been able to get this done by myself. I’ve mostly been dealing with customers and my usual day-to-day tasks, and he’s been doing all the heavy lifting, patiently awaiting each instruction before putting items back in their rightful homes.

It’s like he’s got some kind of sixth sense for whenever I need him. It’s a little spooky.

“You’d better,” I say to him, passing up a box that he stacks on the top shelf of my inventory closet.

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were a Boy Scout?”

“For a bit.” He reaches down for the next box.

“That explains why you’re such an upstanding citizen.” I grin up at him, quirking an eyebrow. “When you’re not pillaging yarn stores.”

He reaches down and gives my ponytail a playful tug. “When are you gonna let that go?”

I bat his hand away. “That’s not very ‘Eagle Scout’ of you.”

“What can I say, I was never serious enough to make Eagle.”

“Oh, no? Just a hobbyist, then?”

“I was only in it to get girls.” He winks, and I really hope my face doesn’t look as flushed as it feels.

“You meet a lot of girls in the Boy Scouts of America?”

“Chicks dig the neckerchief.” He waggles his eyebrows and I burst into a fit of laughter.

“Oh, I bet.” My face aches from the force of my grin. This side of him, the playful side that I feel like few people get to see, has butterflies exploding in the base on my stomach. I feel like a lightbulb with the wattage turned up, my whole body thrumming with energy as we banter.

Oscar turns back to face the shelves, his voice softer now, lower. “I actually just went because my dad was a Scoutmaster.”

“Yeah?” I ask, not wanting to push. We’ve only talked about his dad a little, but I can see that it’s a sore subject.

“Uh huh. I think he was more into it than I was.” He steps off the ladder with a half-hearted smile and heads out into the main shop.

“That must have been fun, though, spending that time with him.”

“It was. He was the best.” His eyes mist over and I’m worried I’ve said the wrong thing.

“We don’t have to talk about it, you know.”

“No, it’s okay. I just don’t talk about him a lot.”

“Why not? It sounds like he was really special to you.”

“He was,” he says with a soft smile, looking past me like he’s somewhere else. “I don’t know why. I guess it was too painful at first, then people kinda stopped asking.”