Page 59 of Story of My Life
“Just a second,” I panted. “The door’s stuck.”
“For fuck’s sake. Back up,” growled my not-so-gentlemanly caller.
“I think you just manifested,” Zoey whispered as we both stepped away from the door.
One second and one determined boot later, my front door flew open to reveal a scowling Cam.
He was wearing a fresh gray shirt, paint-splattered work pants, and a frown that accentuated the sharp angles of his arresting face. Dealing with a grump in real life was annoying, but looking at him was no hardship at all. The man was gorgeous.
“Hi,” I said.
“Need some more measurements,” he said as he walked past me.
“Come on in,” I grumbled under my breath.
“This was on your door.” He handed over a crumpled piece of paper.
I smoothed it out and read it. “Are you kidding me?”
“What?” Zoey asked.
I held up the flyer.Punish Goose’s Killer. Town meeting tonight at 7 p.m. BYOP.
“What’s BYOP?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Cam said. He gestured toward the door. “Don’t close that. I’ll fix it before I leave.”
“Let me just go get my laptop.”
Jim:Hope the writing is going well.
14
PUNCHABLE SMIRKS
CAMPBELL
I hate roof jobs,”Levi complained from Erleen Dabner’s ridgeline. Erleen was the kind of lady who collected crystals and tarot cards and grew herbs in a greenhouse attached to her weirdly whimsical ranch house. A ranch house with a leaky roof.
“You’d hate bankruptcy more,” I assured him, prying off the asphalt shingles around the vent pipe.
There had been a time when we would have contracted out for a project like this. But subcontractors had either moved out of the area or gotten too expensive to justify the cost when we could do it ourselves.
“Be glad it’s a one-story,” Gage said, strolling along the peak like a mountain goat in work boots. “Found another weak spot over here. Might have some rotting.”
“I’ll grab another bundle of shingles,” Levi volunteered and hauled ass down the ladder to Erleen’s driveway and my truck.
“Lookin’ forward to the town meeting?” Gage asked me as he began to strip the new spot.
“I circled it with a heart in my fucking calendar.”
A Bishop had held a seat on the town council for three generations. Another family tradition we just couldn’t let die.
“Just wondering. Should be pretty entertaining with our new council member and how worked up folks are,” Gage mused.
I hurled another shingle toward the trailer we were using as a dumpster. “You’re only saying that because you don’t have to sit through the whole circus.” Gage had held the seat before me and had laughed himself almost to tears when I was surprised by the election win after my idiot siblings organized a secret write-in campaign.
“I paid my dues. It’s your turn,” he said cheerfully.
