Copper Creek: A Sawyer's Ferry Novel by Ashwood Cate

Author:Ashwood, Cate [Ashwood, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 2019-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

Barrett

“Mase? Can you take over for an hour? I gotta run out.”

“No problem. Anything you want me to do?”

“Make sure the building doesn’t burn down? Make sure no one dies? Keep Dustin from drinking on his break?”

“So, the usual,” Mason said with a laugh.

“Yep. Be back soon.”

I decided to walk, since the sun was shining and the air was warm, and I was in a particularly good mood. The moment that I’d kissed Frankie at the top of the lighthouse, the moment I’d given in to that undeniable pull, it was like opening Pandora’s box. It was possible the contents hidden beneath the shiny surface stuff was doom and gloom, but I planned to enjoy the good stuff at the top while I could.

Frankie’s return flight to New York was leaving in a few weeks, so even if everything went spectacularly to shit, by the end of August, it wouldn’t matter.

I didn’t want to think about that, though. First thing I needed to do was figure out what the hell I was going to cook. Why had I offered? I should have suggested we order in takeout or hit up the Starlight on the way home.

Crossing the street, I waved to Ricky, then slipped into the market and grabbed a basket. I figured I could wander up and down the aisles until something jumped out at me. It wasn’t until I was staring at the tank of live lobsters that I realized I had no idea what Frankie liked.

The only thing I knew for sure he’d enjoy was thin-crust pizza with goat cheese. Maybe I could use that and go from there.

“Excuse me,” I said, catching the attention of a kid refreshing the serve-yourself olives. “Could you tell me where to find the goat cheese?”

He balked as though I’d demanded he give me all the money in the safe. “Uh. I don’t think we have that. I’d have to check, though.” He stared at me. “You want me to check?”

“That’d be great.”

I waited for him to dash off, half expecting he’d hide in the back and I’d never see him again. Instead, he stood up a little taller and yelled. “Hey, Rhonda! We got any goat cheese?”

“We got feta. Is that goat cheese?” she yelled back.

The kid turned to me. “Is that goat cheese?”

“Maybe?” I had no idea. “But not what I had in mind, I don’t think.”

“He doesn’t want that kind,” the kid hollered.

“That’s all we got. We can order whatever in special, though.”

“That’s fine,” I told him. “Thanks anyway.”

No goat cheese. Oh well, it wasn’t much to go on anyway. This was going to be a shot in the fucking dark.

After walking up and down each aisle twice, I settled on spaghetti, grabbing diced tomatoes and garlic for the sauce. If Frankie didn’t like it, we could order pizza—without goat cheese.

The next stop was the pharmacy. I stood in the middle of the sexual health aisle reconsidering every choice I’d made up until this point. A box of Trojans in my hand, the full weight of realization of what I was planning slammed into me.

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