Page 103 of Love Expert

“You should set my Dara up!” Barbara’s eyes swing boldly across my lawn, then back again, before she notices me here. “Detective Caster would be a good match for her, don’t you think?”

“Well—”

“It’s tragic what happened to Norma Sinclair’s granddaughter. But it’s been a while now, and Dara is recently out of a relationship. Perhaps the timing is right.”

No. Fucking. Thank you.

“Come on, buddy.” I scoop Jeremy up and push off our chair, carrying him all the way to the door. “Let’s go inside for a little while.”

“Please don’t marry Dara.” He leans back and searches my eyes, his nose wrinkled with distaste. “I’d rather speak to the grass at Mom’s grave.”

I choke out a laugh and step inside, crossing the threshold and slamming our door behind us. “I’m definitely not marrying Dara. Not in a million years.”

“You should marry Maggie. Cos even if she was annoying and horrible and ugly—which she’s not,” he adds quickly. “But even if she was…” His lips quirk high. “Her homemade donuts are really, really good.”

“I wouldn’t know.” I walk into the living room and drop him onto the couch. “You’ve never shared them with me, greedy guts.” Snatching up the television remote, I spin and plop onto the couch beside him, then I turn the TV on and navigate across to The Bodyguard.Fuck it. Why not?“Maybe I’d be less mean and rude and grumpy all the time if you shared your baked goods sometimes.”

He opens his legs wide, leans forward, and yanks the couch cushion up. Reaching under, he comes back out again with a Tupperware container and a shaky grin. “I got one more left from the last batch.” Peeling the lid open, he glances my way with tears still in his lashes and red splotches on his cheeks. “Wanna go halfsies?”

ROUND THIRTY-SEVEN

MAGGIE

“So you’re just giving up?” Brienne slaps a plate of freshly made bread on the counter by my elbow. “Seriously, Maggie? You’re gonna swoop on through, re-meet these people and make them fall in love with you.” She plops a bowl of soup down with the bread. “Because you’re adorable, by the way! You’re telling me you’d go through all the trouble of making new friends and setting me up with a cop who isclearlyin love with someone else?—”

I scoff.

“And still,” she presses. “Afterallthat, you would let your mom’s bitterness screw you over? That’s weak!”

“She’s right.” Devina hunches forward at the counter, one leg folded over the other, and runs the tip of her finger around the lip of her mug. “That’s weak. Your mother’s opinion shouldn’t count. You know it, we know it.”

“My mother’s opinion is no less valid just because she delivers it with a cold sneer.” I crush my thumbs against my closed eyelids. “When facts are facts…”

“Facts, my ass,” Brienne growls. “Success takes time! I used to sleep on the floor in the kitchen of this diner, because businesses rarely turn a profit in their first couple of years, and I couldn’t afford to keep paying the rent on my apartmentandrun this place. So I packed my crap up, put everything I didn’t need into storage, then I splurged on an inflatable mattress and spent two years opening and closing this place on my own.”

“Probably shouldn’t admit that,” Devina teases. “Sleeping on the kitchen floor is probably a health violation.”

“Oh, shut up, Number Three!”

“Don’t call me Number Three!” she laughs. “That’s rude.”

“I’ll always be Billy’s first Magnolia Sava date,” Brienne preens, inspecting her nails as I drop my hands and blink the dots from my eyes. “He’s such a sweetheart, too.”

“Ugh.” I let my head hang between my shoulders, my elbows on the counter while, for now, my customers happily enjoy thedishes I slung. “He’s probably gonna fall in love with Luciana. She’s beautiful and funny and smart. And she told me they’ve met up since their first failed date.”

“She told you that?” Brienne digs a hand into her apron pocket and comes out again with her phone. “That’s not very girl-code of her, is it?”

“And that’s another thing!” I throw my hands in the air. “He’salwaystexting someone. And whoever he’s talking to makes him smile, so even if it’s not Luciana, it’s someone. Maybe that’s why he let me leave the hospital.” Tears thicken in my throat, forcing a croak into my voice. “Maybe that’s why he sat on his porch and said nothing about my yard sale. Maybe that’s why Jeremy doesn’t even come to the boundary garden very much anymore.”

“Maybe he’s too freakin’ scared to becauseyouleft the hospital that day Jeremy got hurt.”

“He didn’t stop me!”

“He was busy dealing with his child,” Brienne counters. “And since we’re going,youhosted a yard sale right there in front of him. Which sends a certain message, don’t you think?”

“I’m not moving,” I whimper. “I needed to sell my grandmother’s excess things. I’ve got a mortgage to pay, and my business income isn’t cutting it.”

“And don’t forget how you had Stuart over three nights in a row the other week,” she adds.