Page 38 of Small Town, Big Storm

“This kid and ice cream,” she says with a laugh as we turn onto Main Street and start heading for Sully’s.

“Mom says if you cut me open, I’d bemadeof ice cream,” Holly chimes in.Then adds in a stage-whisper, “But she’s just kidding.If you cut me open, I’d be made of blood and other stuff.”

I chuckle.

“Doyouknow how to make ice cream?”Holly asks.

“I do, actually,” I tell her.“It’s not that hard.”

Poppy snorts.

I glance over at her, lift my brows in question.

She grins.“I was just thinking about you burning that entire batch of hot dogs at The Shack.”

“In my defense, I was distracted.”

Mischief in her green eyes.“Hmm.I wonder by what.”

We pause by the one signal in town, waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green, and I bend down.“I’ll tell you by what,” I murmur, and I’m close enough to watch the flush rise in her cheeks, to see her pulse speed at the base of her throat, to watch those gorgeous green eyes dilate.“It was that tiny red bikini.”

She shivers and I shift even closer, inhaling deeply.

God, she smells good.Good enough to?—

Someone giggles, and my head snaps up.The light’s turned green…and we’ve garnered even more attention.

Great.

“This fucking town,” I growl.

Her eyes cool and she steps back.“Thistownisn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, sure.Tell me that after the gossip about us beingseen together”—I make air quotes—“hits the streets.”

“Gossip hits the streets all the time, Storm.No one’s immune.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the fucking problem,” I mutter.

“They mean well—” I scowl and she gives me a rueful smile.“Okay, they’re nosy, sure,” she admits, “but tell me another place in this world where Gertie Walkins could create a schedule to both get Donna Sullivan to her chemotherapy appointmentsandwatch over her cats when she wasn’t feeling well afterward.Or a place where the town comes together to raise money for the Pioneer Museum every year so every kid can have free summer camp and after-school care.Or where they vote down big chain businesses so our grocery store can function and Bits & Bobs can run its craft shows and Sully’s stays afloat.Or where,” she adds softly, “my fridge was always full in the months after I gave birth, and there were always plenty of babysitters, and when I didn’t think I could stand it for one more second—because Holly just wouldn’t stop crying—there was a rotation of men and women in my apartment, sweeping Holly out of my arms and all but shoving me into bed.So, tell me, Storm,” she finishes softly, “where else could I find that?”

Nowhereelse.

Because as much as I hate this town, I can admit that there’s also something special about it.

Not for the son of Norm Harrison.

But for Poppy Baker and her daughter?

Yeah, Cedar Hollow absolutely is that place.

Twelve

Poppy

Maybe I shouldn’t have goneon a rant.

God knows this town has its flaws, and Storm hasn’t exactly had an easy time of it, what with his dad being his dad and all.