“Trying to catch up with him,” I pant, pointing to the young boy standing with him. Now that we’re out of the dark store and standing under a streetlight, I can see his face clearly. He’s so young. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s ten or eleven, but who am I to know? I can only count in terms of dog years, if we’re honest. Let’s just say my maternal clock has never really gone off, so it’s one alarm that may be permanently onsnooze.
“This guy?” Levi asks, a huge grin spreading across his face. “Have you guys already met?”
I’m struggling here. My eyes flick to Zac’s, and thankfully, he looks as confused as I do.
“Met?” What is Levi saying?
“Georgie, Zac,” Levi says, smiling from ear to ear as he steps back and claps the young man on his shoulder, “this is Duncan Livingston. My godson.”
TWO
Levi
When you haven’t seen someone you’ve been hanging out with for a while, you would think they’d be happy to see you. It’s not like I’ve been gone playing football for most of the year, or that we won the Super Bowl this year (well, we did, but I digress), so I’m not expecting a parade or fireworks, but a little excitement or even a cheer could go a long way for a guy.
Georgie blinks at me. She points to Duncan, who stands beside me in his usual position: arms crossed with a slight glower on his face. I think it’s mandatory for all ten-year-olds.
“This is your godson?” she asks, her tone oddly accusatory.
“Sure is.” My gaze drifts back and forth between her and Zac, trying to read the situation. I don’t know Zac well, but well enough to know he’s a cop on the Sweetkiss Creek police force. “Got him settled in at the farm today, then came into town for dinner and a few things.” Focusing on Georgie, I give her my best grin. “Duncan wanted to stop by your bookshop and grab something. Did he find what he needed?”
Georgie shakes her head and laughs incredulouslybefore she puts me squarely in her sights and sighs. “Oh, he grabbed what he needed alright.”
Judging by the way Zac’s face twists and the lack of emotion he’s showing, I have this weird gut instinct that Duncan’s done something. I don’t know what, but it’s something that isnotgood.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” I say to Duncan, turning him around to face me and keeping my hands on his shoulders as I do so.
Duncan’s eyes are blank as he shakes his head and purses his lips together tightly.
Staying in place, I turn my head so my gaze lands on Georgie, who crosses her arms over her chest.
She’s almost apologetic as she waves a hand in the air, but I know her well enough and can tell when she’s angry. She has this crease that shows up in between her eyebrows. It’s like the muscles in her forehead give her away so you always know what she’s feeling. “I caught him trying to steal a book.” She puts her hand on her hip and pushes a few stray strands of hair out of her face.
Man. Probably not a good time to think about this, but she looks amazing when she’s mad. Georgie is what I imagine a bohemian goddess to look like, with flowing, sun-kissed hair and eyes that sparkle with mischief and a hint of rebellion. Normally, she’s a vision of effortless beauty, easily charming everyone around her with her laid-back attitude and free-spirited nature.
But when she’s mad? Those fiery eyes of hers turn into laser beams that I swear, hand on heart, could cut through steel, and her normally serene expression transforms into an intense scowl. It's like watching a majestic lioness suddenly realizing she's stepped on a thorn–fierce, yet oddly adorable in her frustration.
“You came afterme,” Duncan fires back, pulling me back into the moment, rolling his eyes as he looks up at me. “She snapped my waistband.”
“Let them talk,” Zac interjects, nodding toward Georgie as he stares down Duncan. Again, I don’t know him very well, but Zac has the BEST resting cop face. The RCF…it even makes me a little nervous.
“Is this true?” I say, looking at Duncan incredulously. “Stealing is not what we do. I don’t see you kicking off your summer in a good way if you’re stealing things from my friend’s store.”
This is also not the best way to start out my off-season downtime nor to get to know people who I care about. In the back of my mind, I want to tell on this kid to his parents. But then I remember—I’m the one in charge. I’m his guardian now. And he’s not like a machine you buy at the store; he didn’t come with a manual. I’m figuring it all out as we go along.
Georgie holds up a book and waves it in the air for me to see. “Exhibit A.”
“A cookbook?” My eyes slam back into Duncan’s. He tries to look past my shoulder, but I maneuver so I’m in his line of sight. “Look at me, please. You tried to steal a cookbook by Jamie Oliver?”
This is no way for anyone to make a good impression. I was a kid once, not so horribly long ago, and I can remember testing boundaries and doing things that made my mother crazy. Plus, I have an older brother, so he was always there either cheering me on or acting as a partner in crime. Mostly cheering me on and talking me into things, so I get it. Such is kid life.
Duncan lets his gaze rest on the book, staring at it. He shrugs a shoulder, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I wanted it.”
“Well, you should have bought it,” Georgie says. Judgingby the look on Duncan’s face, her words are not well-timed.
“If I could pay for it, I would have,” he all but growls. “But I’m a kid and don’t have any money.”
Zac winces as he takes a step back, which Duncan notices. “What did you do that for?”
