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“Okay. Let me know if there’s something I can do. I guess I’ll go see what the gang’s up to.”
I nodded. When she’d gone inside, I turned back to the grill and lifted the lid. Most of the stuck-on food had turned white. I unhooked the scraper from where I stored it and attacked the grill racks until they were clean then closed the lid again. I checked the temperature gauge. Almost time.
I went into the kitchen to the fridge and got out the burgers and brats. Happy sounds of conversation and laughter floated in from the living room. I smiled. It was good to have a group of friends.
I needed to remember that and not do something stupid that would mess it up.
Because while Austin might say he was okay with the idea of me pursuing Megan, the rest of the guys would definitely not be. They all considered her their baby sister. Sort of a personal mascot to the group. If things didn’t work out between us? It would make things awkward at best, tear things apart at the worst. The group of guys was family. They mattered.
4
MEGAN
Iglanced up at the movement near the picture window of the bookstore. Was someone finally going to come in? Mondays had never been our busiest day, but it seemed like they were getting slower with every passing week.
The couple strolling down the sidewalk moved along toward the café. At least they’d thought my display was interesting enough to stop, even if it didn’t entice them to come in.
I sighed.
Maybe I should close on Mondays. I wouldn’t mind having two days off each week. Then Sunday could go back to being a true day of rest instead of the day I tried to do all the things that I couldn’t accomplish in the morning hours before I had to get to the store. It felt like admitting defeat.
Which was dumb.
Bookstores in today’s world were tricky. Grandma had known it. She’d told me—warned me, really—when I said I was quitting social work and moving to handle the store myself. I was grateful the building was paid for and I just had to manage utilities and inventory and, oh yes, my salary, out of the profits. I could occasionally even hire a part-time employee to give me an extra afternoon or evening off.
I’d even swung a vacation over spring break since everyone else had been headed to the Caymans. An older brother who was a billionaire had some definite perks. Even if it hadn’t occurred to him to include me in the whole business to start out.
I wouldn’t mind being a billionaire in my own right. Then I could float the utilities—heck, maybe even an employee salary—if I needed to.
But he hadn’t and so I wasn’t a billionaire and I needed to get over it and move on. I forgave him. I really did. His rationale was sound—I hadn’t had the money to go in with them. As much as I’d like to protest that I could’ve found a way to make it work, Austin was right that I probably couldn’t have.
So. Fine.
If watching my brother and his friends over the last year had shown me anything, it was that money could only fix a small handful of the problems in life. And it created new ones. Like losing Austin and Kayla their jobs in the public school where they’d been teaching. Of course, now they were running a new learning center and it was even more fulfilling—at least if you listened to Austin go on about it. God always seemed to work everything out.
For other people.
I winced.Sorry, God. I know that’s not true. You take care of me. I’m grateful.
The bell on the door jingled.
I glanced up and my face heated even as I smiled. “Hey, Cody.”
“Hey. Great news.” He grinned and held his phone out to me.
I took it and looked down at the screen. “What am I looking at?”
“What?” He took the phone and laughed as he unlocked it. “Sorry. Torpedo Factory is a go!”
I looked at the email and skimmed the contents. It all looked pretty standard. There was a small part of me that was surprised they were still available. Glad. But surprised. I handed Cody back his phone. “That’s excellent. Congrats.”
“It’s a relief, let me tell you.” He clicked the phone off and stuck it in his pocket. “So. I guess now catering is the next thing? The save-the-date cards shipped today, so they’ll be here Wednesday. I already printed labels, so if I hustle on Thursday, I can probably drop them off at the post office after work and get them on their way. Since nearly everyone is local, I would imagine people will get them Friday or Saturday. Monday at the latest.”
“Make sure you send yourself one. And maybe Noah, too.”
He frowned. “Why would I do that?”
“So you know roughly when locals are getting them?” It had seemed like a straightforward idea to me. Maybe it was weird. Sure, it was going to cost an extra stamp, but wasn’t it worth about a buck between the two of them to know what delivery times were?
