Page 11 of Starting Over with You
Dean
After we open the library doors and windows for ventilation, everyone is working together, not only to gather the six cats and two juvenile raccoons, but to take photos and start cleaning up. While the fire department may not do that in the big cities, here in Thistlebrook, there is no damn way Miss Alice is going to do this on her own. I make sure she understands the importance of checking the book drop for raccoons, because honestly, this isn’t the first time.
Those raccoons and cats have some kind of beef with one another.
While I am in chief mode, I still can’t kick the anger I have toward Nyle. He’s just…more of a pain than a help. I don’t even know why he “wants” to help. He just wants to impress Missy and be the doting husband, but he isn’t.
Plus, what the hell are my baby mama and my sister up to? That can’t be good. They’re a lot tamer now that Missy’s sister doesn’tlive here, but back when we were younger, those three tore the town up.
I think I still have trauma from the late-night calls to come get them from various spots they decided to wreak havoc on.
I shiver at the thought and decide I need to call Missy to ease my mind. We finish up as quickly as someone can with cats and fornicating raccoons. Garrett is holding each raccoon by its scruff as he grins up at me. He has a boyish charm to him even though he’s my age. His eyes are dark, while his hair is sunflower yellow. Like me, he grew up here too. “Skyye need a pet?”
I snort. “No way. Missy would have my ass.”
“Speaking of Missy, how’s your sister doing?”
See? I think everyone has the same trauma I have. I mean, those three stole three pigs, dressed them up like the three little pigs and snuck them into the boys’ locker room on championship weekend. I played my final game smelling like pig shit.
They were terrors.
And yet, I’m super protective of their crazy asses. “My sister is married with three kids,” I remind him, fighting back my own grin. I feel as if I should defend my brother-in-law. If he can stay with her, he’s basically a saint.
Garrett doesn’t even flinch, just keeps grinning. “I’m holding out hope.”
I roll my eyes at that. I don’t even know how Sadie got Matt to marry her and make babies with her, yet she has guys ready to take his place. My sister is wild and reckless, but she’s not dumb. She knows what she’s got, and Matt is the real deal. He loves my sister, loves their kids, and loves Skyye. I’m surprised Skyye didn’t call him, honestly. Though, if Missy and Sadie are together, then Matt probably has the kids.
“Matt’s good people,” I remind Garrett, even if Matt is a cop and thinks the police have a harder job than firefighters. He sits in his car all day eating snacks from Noelle’s Nibbles, while I’m out saving Miss Alice from a turf war and the smoldering romance section.
Ha. I need to tell Skyye that one.
“But is he good enough for her?”
No one is, but I just give him a dark look. “She’s made three kids with him. I’d say he’s okay.”
Garrett just laughs as he walks away, the raccoons wriggling in his grip with no cares. Being Sadie’s little brother is not an easy task. It never has been. I sigh deeply as I do one last once-over and then go to the truck for my iPad. I got the department to switch to iPads two years ago because I hate writing. I’d rather type. And thankfully, they went for it. As I take pictures and document the call, Wagner helps and does his own documentation. I watch the time to make sure I am out of here before I need to get Skyye, but luckily, it doesn’t take long to get everything taken care of.
“Hey, Cap.”
I glance up from my iPad, and then I hold out my hand for Jackson Shepard, one of the town’s deputies, to shake. My black button-down shirt strains on my shoulders since I refuse to go up a size in my shirts after a year of working out like crazy with my buddy Jett Cook. He had to increase his upper body strength back to full force when his old figure skating partner came back to town and asked him to skate with her again. I don’t know how he pulled it off. I’m sore as fuck after a game at my ripe old age of thirty-eight, but my boy not only put on a show, he got the girl of his dreams to marry him.
Their story is cute, and I’m not the least bit jealous.
Okay, maybe I am a bit.
Because I’m lonely.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my daughter. I am a proud dad and I love spending time with her, but I want that connection. I want to wake up to a woman in my arms who isn’t there just for sex. I want to have those chaste kisses. Those late nights when we watch “our” shows. I want morning coffee and supper together.
I want my person.
Remembering I’m in the middle of a handshake, I focus onJackson instead of my lonely love life. “Hey, Jackson,” I greet. “I shared my report with you.”
Jackson sends me a grateful grin. “Thanks, Cap. How ya doing?”
I shrug. “You know, killing it at life.” His grin grows wider, but it’s all a mask. He’s nervous. He’s kicking at the brown carpet of the library, and his eyes are wild. I arch a brow. “How are you, Jackson?”
He sighs deeply, meeting my gaze. “I was wondering if you’d help me.”
