Page 32 of Merry Mayhem
After we get our hot chocolates—classic chocolate with marshmallows for Bruce, chocolate with a shot of Bailey’s for Harley, white chocolate peppermint for Thea, and white chocolate with caramel for me—we start down Main Street.
Another woman stops Thea and requests that she give the woman’s son a mini-lecture about using his crutches even whenhe’s out with his friends. The teen rolls his eyes, but he nods dutifully as Thea scolds him gently.
It’s clear the entire town knows and appreciates this family, and Thea obviously is an integral part of this community.
“How long have you been practicing here?” I ask her.
“Since I graduated,” she says. “It was always my plan to come back here and open my practice.” She takes a sip and side-eyes me. “So, six years.”
“What’s that look for?” I ask.
“I’m thirty-one.”
“Okay.” I’m not following.
“Old.”
I laugh. “Thirty-one is old?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
She nods. “So, a lot older than you.”
I’m not sure why she’s pointing out our age difference. “Five years isn’t ‘a lot’,” I say.
“Violet is twenty-three.”
I lift a brow. “Good to know.” I guess. Why is she telling me this?
“Sam is twenty-three also,” Thea says.
I’m amused even though I have no idea what we’re doing here.
“Sierra is thirty,” I say.
Thea pauses with her cup partway to her mouth. “Who’s Sierra?” She sips.
“The woman I followed to Louisiana.”
Thea chokes on her drink of cocoa.
I smile and take a drink of my own.
Hmmm. She wasn’t expecting that I’d be into older women before. Well, olderwoman.
Until now.
I’m definitely into Thea Chabert.
Which is, admittedly, not ideal.
But Violet and I are not involved. Yes, I need to play a part here and at least stall until I can talk to her and work things out, but Violet isn’t my girlfriend, and I’ve made no promises to her beyond this weekend.
Thea doesn’t say anything about my revelation about Sierra. She just keeps walking. And I follow. For now, I’ll let her lead the way. I can’tdoanything about my attraction to her at the moment.
But I know she feels the chemistry. Our moment in Bruce and Harley’s kitchen was not one-sided. Her hand on me, even while blotting my wet shirt with a dish towel, had sent fire licking through my veins. She was affected too. I saw it in her eyes.
