Page 8 of Something’s Brewing

At the mention of Garrett, something flickered in Rosie’s gaze—interest, maybe amusement—but she schooled her features fast. “Oh, that’s right. It’s a shame about his arm,” she tsked. “And right before his grand opening. Bet he’s just loving having someone help him out.”

Madison huffed a laugh. “If by loving, you mean actively resisting with every fiber of his being, then yes.”

Rosie snorted. “Sounds about right.” She tore off the order slip and handed it to the cooks behind her, then tapped the Fourth of July flyer taped to the counter. “You should check out the bachelor auction while you’re here.”

Madison glanced at it. “Uh, pretty sure I’m not in the market for a small-town bachelor.”

Rosie grinned. “Oh, I wasn’t suggesting bidding. I just meant you might find it interesting.”

Madison narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like that’s code for something?”

Rosie ignored the question entirely. “Garrett’s filling in for his brother, Cole. Cole’s off visiting his girlfriend in Hawaii, so Garrett got roped into replacing him.”

Madison choked on air. “Wait—you’re telling me Garrett Reid is willingly participating in a bachelor auction?”

Rosie shrugged, too innocent. “ ‘Willingly’ might be a strong word.”

Madison stared at the flyer, then back at Rosie, a slow grin forming. “Well. This did just get interesting.”

Rosie handed her a to-go box with a wink. “Enjoy your ribs, honey.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Madison took her time strolling along Main Street, balancing the warm takeout container in one hand while taking in the quaint, almost aggressively charming town. Flower boxes overflowed with bright summer blooms, American flags hung from lampposts, and the storefronts displayed a mix of hand-painted signs and modern touches—a boutique, a hardware store, a coffee shop housed in an old church with a giant steaming mug on its sign. Every few feet, someone nodded or smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“Evenin’,” an older man said as he tipped his baseball cap.

“Good evening,” Madison replied.

She stepped into Turner Books and perused the display of beach reads. A woman greeted her. “Hi, I’m Paige Turner, the owner. You must be Madison.”

“How did you⁠—”

She chuckled. “Small town. What can I help you find?”

“I think I found it.” Madison picked up Catherine Coulter’s latest FBI thriller. “I haven’t had time to read a good book in a while.”

With book in hand and after a nice conversation with the owner, she set off for her new home away from home to eat the now-cold barbecue.

Another man, pushing a stroller and holding an ice cream cone, gave her a friendly “How’s it going?” like they knew each other.

Madison managed polite nods, but inside, she was reeling. She’d spent fifteen years in Washington DC, where random street greetings weren’t exactly standard protocol. Minnesota lived up to the “Minnesota Nice” moniker, but small-town MN was even friendlier than Minneapolis.

Her phone dinged in her pocket. Eve.

Did you make it to town? Or did you turn around the second you saw the Welcome to Deer Creek Falls sign?

Madison smirked and typed:

I’m here. No turning back now. Currently adjusting to the fact that everyone in this town makes eye contact. It’s unnatural.

Another ding.

You’ll get used to it. Just embrace the small-town charm. Maybe you’ll even find yourself a nice rugged outdoorsman at the bachelor auction. ;)

Madison snorted, typing quickly.

You mean rugged like a lumberjack? Or rugged like Garrett growling at me because I exist?