Page 25 of Finding New Dreams

My gut clenched. I couldn’t argue that. My “reputation” had never bothered me before. But this was a different world here. The good people of Tangled River all seemed to want that cozy, lovey-dovey, let’s-stroll-around-the-square relationship I’d never had. Even with Lorraine, before she’d ground my heart into glitter under her stiletto.

Now that reputation kept biting me in the ass. But how could I be other than who I was? Something Lorraine had reminded me of just before she walked out our door for the last time.

“Earth to Flynn,” Carter grumbled. “I see some things never change.”

“Definitely not your wardrobe,” I shot back.

He grunted, unruffled.

“Or your vocabulary,” I added.

He grinned, dropping his arms to his sides. “How about I throw you into the river like the good old days?”

I scoffed, but Wyatt interrupted. “So, beers later?”

I glanced at him. His expression didn’t give much away, but his shoulders were relaxed. He must’ve concluded that I didn’t pose a threat to their Rose.

“Sure,” I said. “Invite Hunter, Owen, and Louis too.”

Wyatt nodded.

The three of us talked for a few more minutes then said goodbye. My last stop was Owen’s bookstore, the Twisted Oak.

I entered the little bookshop and a wave of calm washed over me. It was quiet in here. The bustle of the town stayed locked outside the door, replaced by the crackling of a fire in a stone fireplace. The smell of wooden bookshelves, inked pages, and worn leather—presumably from the squashy armchairs and sofas hidden around the bookshelves—should have been distilled into a candle and used for aromatherapy. I didn’t even read a lot, but a soul recognizes peace and harmony when it feels it.

I picked my way around the bookshelves and browsing readers who couldn’t have cared less who I was. Then I saw a familiar blond mop of hair bent over a large leather book. Owen Monreau was a year younger than me, and I hadn’t known him long before I’d left Tangled River and college to go to L.A. But he’d been a fast friend.

He didn’t look up as I approached him. He was perched on a stool behind the cash register desk. A tattoo I hadn’t seen before wrapped around one muscular arm, almost hidden by the sleeve of a green t-shirt, which had a dinosaur on it saying, “I’m a Veloci-reader!”

“Still got your nose in a book, I see,” I said in a deep but quiet voice.

His head shot up, his bright green eyes taking a second to refocus on the real world instead of whatever book world he’d been in. Then he grinned.

“Flynn! I heard you were back already and figured it was only a matter of time.” He carefully placed a red ribbon in his book and set it down before coming around to hug me.

“How you been, man?” I asked. “Other than giving Tangled River one of its best businesses.”

He waved off my praise. “I do all right. People seem to like it, tourists and locals alike. But what about you? I’ve been following your career. Impressive stuff.”

I shrugged, my eyes darting around the treehouse-style interior of the store. Owen had always had a flair for whimsy.

And insight.

“Is it getting to you a bit?” he asked, his sharp gaze missing nothing.

I smiled like I didn’t have ticking deadline, a worried agent, and a demanding rich guy breathing down my neck. “It’ll all work out. I’m fine.”

Owen grunted, his arms folded over his wide chest. He looked a bit like a Viking—our old football coach had almost cried when Owen proclaimed zero interest in sports.

Changing the subject, I said, “I stopped by your brother’s clinic earlier. Awesome that you guys are back in the same town again.”

Owen’s posture relaxed. “Yeah, he worked so hard through vet school. And Furry Family has already been spotlighted in a few internet articles for its animal rescue efforts.”

A hint of jealousy nipped at me. The pride in Owen’s voice over his little brother’s achievements was unmistakable and genuine. Did Chloe ever talk about me like that?

Owen nodded at the flyers clutched in my hand. “Need me to put one up?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

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