Page 85 of Don't Clause a Scene

I loved how his smile went all swoony whenever we exchanged those words.

My first Mystic Rind booth at the farmers’ market had been a huge success. The biggest lesson of the day was that I needed to increase production.

Amos had offered to stay with me at the market as my emotional support extrovert, but I’d declined. We’d compromised with Amos helping me set up before leaving for his shift at Red’s.

“Thank you for using your extrovert powers for good and helping me with the marketing.”

He winked. “Anytime.”

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo.” Dad’s voice cracked. “You’ve worked so hard for this.”

I walked around the counter and pulled my dad into a hug. “Thanks, Pops. The new mac and cheese on the menu has really helped. A lot of people mentioned today they wanted to try making it at home.”

A couple entered the restaurant, so Aunt Ingrid moved to greet them after giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Proud of you.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed for the better in the past six months. No more secrets, no more drowning under a sense of duty that I’d suffered with silently.

“Now that you’re here, we wanted to run an idea by you,” Dad said with a mischievous smile.

When Amos’s smile mirrored his, I knew trouble was coming.

“What have you two concocted?”

Dad and Amos grinned at each other.

Amos leaned toward me. “Dad and Sage won’t tell me what they have planned for the Team Red’s versus Team Sparky’s softball game next weekend, but I know they’re doing something. We want to offer everyone who shows up to the game wearing red a coupon for a free milkshake with any entrée purchase in July. What do you think?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Ever since the truth behind the rivalry had come out on Christmas Eve, it had becomefun.Dad and Ian got to publicly tease and try to one-up each other in playful ways. Everyone was so much happier, including me.

“I think it’s a great idea. If I wear red, do I still have to buy an entrée, or do I get the milkshake for free? I am a Brewer after all.”

Dad laughed and turned to the new ticket printer when it spat out a fresh ticket. “Two burgers, coming right up!”

I hooked my finger through the belt loop of Amos’s standard-issue black uniform pants. “I can’t believe you talked him into the new system,” I said quietly. Amos had spent countless hours researching options over the past two months while getting to know how Dad liked to operate. He’d assessed the situation perfectly and made the ideal recommendation.

Amos leaned into me. “He’s a smart man who knows a good thing. Just like his son.” He kissed me. “When Bethany comes in for her shift, I’ll be ready to go. We can swing by Sage’s and grab the rest of my stuff. Maybe order pizza? Sound good?”

“Pizza and unpacking sounds like the perfect end to the day.” And the perfect start to the next chapter of my life, where I got to wake up next to Amos every morning.

I couldn’t help but wonder what Red and Sparky would think of all this. Grandpa confirmed that the falling out had happened over a disagreement on the contract clause about who would inherit their joint diner. Both wanted it for their own kids, and they couldn’t imagine their children running it together. Yet here was Amos Flynn, prepping to take over Red Brewer’s legacy.

Only in Maplewood.