Page 9 of The One With The Secret Crushes

Aviana grinned. "Maybe we should start a romance book club that meets a different week." Then she put her chin in her hand and bounced her eyebrows first at me, then at Scott. "You two could be the founding members."

Oh hell.

Scott tossed his dish towel over his shoulder and leaned forward on the bar. "I find my own dates, you murderous little book nerds. And so does Mackenzie." He looked right at me, nodded once, and went back to work.

That dagger went right through my heart.Yes, Scott finds his own dates because Scott is not interested in dating Mackenzie.

"I don't recall seeing you onanydates recently," Aunt Sharon shot back. "Perhaps you need a little help."

He hung his head, leaning on the bar. This was torture for him. We'd only just agreed to be friends again, just spoke more than a sentence for the first time in a decade, the last thing he needed was myauntforcing me onto him romantically.

Maeve looked up from a red leather-bound notebook. "The last date of yours we noted was when you took Leslie Hilt to dinner at the Lodge one year and four months ago."

That was oddly specific and quite a while ago. "You keep notes of Scott's dates?" That was beyond extreme. It was disturbing. My Aunt and her friends were gossips but this was borderline stalking.

No, it wasdefinitelystalking.

Maeve's eyes darted to me. "We keep notes on everything."

What wasthatsupposed to mean?

But before I could ask, Scott's shoulders started shaking with laughter. "This is batshit insane. Go back to your books and leave me out of it or I'll kick you all out too." His eyes darted back to me with what I swear to all the fairies in the forest was a twinkle in his eyes but was probably just good old-fashioned friendly shared amusement.

Aunt Sharon pursed her lips. "Fine, back to the book."

The group was as animated and weird as I expected. Maybe even weirder. They spoke at length about the psychology of the serial killer, even acting out one of the murder scenes, but didn't spend a single moment debating the story structure or writing style. They put themselves into the shoes of the unfortunate sister who eventually unraveled the identity of the killer, debating how they would have approached things differently. They noticed things I was pretty sureno onewould notice, maybe not even the author.

I felt the discussion starting to wind down—thank god!—when Aviana turned to me. "How are you doing? Ready to run for the hills?"

"A little," I admitted. "But I'm also impressed. If I ever need help tracking someone down or digging up dirt, I know who I'm calling." They could compete with Swifties. In fact, I'd pay money to see it.

"Thank you," she preened.

"Will you be joining us next month?" Junie leaned closer.

I had to admit, it was nice being out of the office. And the house. And talking to people who weren't named Joanne or Lucy. But there were some obvious downsides. All the murder talk for one, not to mention the painfully awkward suggestion Scott and I should start a romance book club.

Joanne, Aunt Sharon, and Maeve were all going to be mighty disappointed when they discovered we were just friends. "I don't know. Just listening to you all has me terrified that a serial killer is going to walk into my bedroom and murder me."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Scott freeze. Aviana's lips turned up and her eyes twinkled and I got the impression I'd just said the wrong thing. "But we don't have serial killers in Lost Creek."

"Yet," I muttered. "We're a small town in the mountains. A killer could slip in, do a murder, and slip out. He could hide in the wilderness, coming and going as he pleased."

Yeah, my imagination had gone into overdrive over the last hour and a half.

"Or..." she drawled, "you could have a big, strong bar owner protect you."

Harrison Smith groaned. "I was on board with getting them in the same room, but this is too much. You have to stop."

Even sweet Harrison was in on this? "What made you guys think this was a good idea? We're friends. Please stop."

As if there was some sort of secret signal, they all began gathering up their stuff. Aunt Sharon and Maeve slid out of their booth and came closer. "Look," Maeve said first, "your dad asked us to make sure you found your way back. We tried getting you out of the house with Joanne. Didn't work. So we're pulling this card now." She glanced past me to the bar where I could only imagine Scott was either hiding or glaring daggers. "Your dad always liked Scottie, and well, Scottie has always likedyou."

My stomach dropped. No, they misread the whole situation and now I was going to have to have an even more embarrassing conversation with Scott than the one we already had today. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”

Aunt Sharon cupped my cheek. "Trust me. He's always watched you, and you've always watched him. Why neither of you ever made a move, we're not sure. But you're both here, you're both single, and you could both use some excitement in your lives. Let him make you lunch, huh? See what happens."

Somehow this strange day kept getting weirder. Like each incident saidHold my beer, I can do better."You set usbothup on a surprise blind date?"

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