Page 24 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

The minotaur male behind the checkout counter at Feed & Hardware nods. “Same as the prior shipments? Set it on the right side of the main house?”

Jasper yawns next to me.

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” I confirm. “Any time this week is good.”

The big minotaur grins. “Knock ‘em dead tonight, Hadrian. We hate it when the Sao Paulo Silents come to town.”

Unsurprising. I’ve had a run-in or two with their shitty coach, Gil Stoneswallow. He’s brash and arrogant, and he coaches dirty, which means his players play dirty, and I hate that shit.

“I’ll do my best,” I assure him.

Jasper yawns a little louder, kneeing me in the thigh. “Dude, when are you gonna give up and just hire someone to do the work for you? That ranch is a mess, you don’t have time, and you have a shitload of money.”

I smile as I thank the minotaur clerk and turn to my best friend. “Like I’ve told you at least a half-dozen times, I want to do the work myself. I might be slow, but I’m thorough, and it makes me happy. Plus, it’s a good excuse not to go party with my teammates after games.”

Jasper blows air out of his lips. “I’ll literally never understand this about you. You could be partying all over the haven system, having the time of your life, and you’d rather be up to your horns in wood shavings, pine dust, and books than enjoying the fruits of your labors.”

“We like different fruits,” I deadpan.

“You can say that again,” he snarks back. He waves at my crotch. “I still don’t understand why you even got that fucking piercing if nobody’s getting the benefit of it.”

A grin overtakes me as I consider how it feels good for me. I’m sure one day someone else will appreciate it.

I grab the door to the store, opening it as he sails through. “Hey, have you seen Bluebell around today?” I haven’t seen her for three days since she fitted me for new clothing. Three a.m. rolled around that night, and Jasper fell asleep on my sofa, but I never heard her come home. She’s up at dawn every morning and back late as far as I can tell. I don’t know if she even sleeps.

Jasper shrugs. “Long as she gets the invoicing and scheduling done on time, that’s what I care about. Who knows what that girl even does with all her time?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that she’s fucking working nonstop, and I’m pretty sure she’s twelve seconds from burnout. Why the hells did she buy a business to add on top of everything else? She’s a twitchy, busy person. She never could sit still. But the Bluebell I’m seeing now who lives across the hall is busier than any monster should be.

Jasper walks me to my truck.

“I’m gonna run a few more errands,” I say offhand.

“Dude, you promised me burgers,” he groans. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“You’ll be fine.” I shove him with a wing. “Take yourself for burgers. I’ll see you after the game.”

“Not if you’re going out to that ranch to do whatever the fuck you’re doing out there.” He spins so he’s walking backwards as he winks at me. “Knock ‘em dead, buddy. Oh.” He pauses and reaches into his pocket. “I got you something on our recent buying spree.”

My brows lift. “You did? I thought gifts weren’t your love language?”

He grins and hands me a small envelope. “They’re not, so literally don’t expect this ever again. But if I haven’t said it, I’m really glad you moved home. I’d have been miserable without you. I love my brothers, but you’re my favorite, not that I should have one.”

Grinning, I pull him close with my left wing. He stumbles toward me, eyeing the envelope with a little smile. Not the usual smirk but just a regular old smile. It’s almost tender.

“Oh my gods,” I whisper. “Are we having a bromance? Is this a love letter?”

He scoffs and elbows my wing. “As if. You took my sweet moment and ruined it. I’m leaving for the burgers you promised me, asshole.”

Spinning on his heel, he shoves my wing aside and walks up the street, lifting a middle finger as he goes.

“Awww, come on back, sweetie pie,” I shout after him. “Love you, bro!”

He lifts the middle finger higher even though the sound of his laughter echoes back to me.

Now I’m intrigued, though. Opening the envelope, I pull out what looks to be a printed receipt. Scanning the contents, I gasp. It’s a first edition of Beasts of Bateau, a suspense mystery written by my favorite author, Mirabelle Megaux. She died over a century ago, and first editions are impossible to come by.

A note at the bottom of the order receipt lets me know the actual book will be coming soon.