Page 182 of Ransom

His smile could light up the whole town. "Good. Because they're already planning Christmas."

"It's April!"

"Jonas likes to be prepared."

A distant shout draws our attention to two grown men wrestling over sparkly pink fabric in front of the coffee shop. Mrs. Winston stands in the doorway shaking her head, while Angela films the whole thing on her phone.

"That video is going to go viral."

Ransom snorts. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Should we break it up?"

He tips my chin up and lowers his lips to mine. "Later. Right now, we have better things to do."

Yeah, we really do.

54

BLAIR

TWO YEARS LATER

Islouch deeper into my chair, watching John and Zach square off over food.

"You can't serve fancy finger food at a car show," John growls, arms crossed over his massive chest. "People want real food."

Zach adjusts his silk tie, looking personally offended. "Sliders aren't fancy. They're miniature burgers."

"That's what I'm saying. Why make them tiny? Just serve normal-sized burgers!"

"Because tiny food is trendy?—"

"We're in Badger Falls. Nobody gives a fuck about trends. I see at least one mullet a day here."

I take a long sip of my Shirley Temple, hiding my smile as Maggie drops into the chair next to me. Her hair, now brushing her shoulders, grew back in a riot of curls. Not sure how that happens. Either way, she hasn't quite figured out how to style them, so she either looks like she's just come in from a storm, or they're pulled back into a tight ponytail. Tonight, it's the storm-ravaged look.

"What did I miss?" She grabs my drink and takes a swig, wincing.

"Why the hell do you steal my drink if you hate it so much? You do it every damn time."

She grins, cheeks pink and full. "Because it's convenient. Now fill me in."

"John and Zach are fighting about sliders versus burgers." I lean closer, keeping my voice low. "My money's on John. He's got that vein popping in his forehead."

"The one that shows up right before he starts dropping f-bombs?"

"That's the one."

"These fuckin' tiny foods are bullshit!" John throws his hands up. "These are car people. They don't want your yuppity shit. They want beer and burgers and maybe something sweet. That's it. Stop overcomplicating shit!"

"Called it." I grin at Maggie. "I don't know why they do this. This is the third year. You'd think this shit would be settled by now."

She drops her chin in her palm with a laugh that fills my chest with warmth. Two years ago, I sat in a hospital room watching her fade away. Now here she is, alive and vibrant, rolling her eyes at our town's most entertaining odd couple.

Well, one of them. These clashes over the the car show have been going on for years.

"Should we tell them Sarah's already ordered regular burgers and hot dogs?" Maggie whispers.

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