Page 11 of Enemies in Paradise

She must have shown up while I was packing, but her greeting makes me wonder if I’ve been the topic of conversation. Maybe Cassie is rehashing how rude I was to her or Georgia’s telling everyone how I think I deserve the shop.

Before my brain can really double down on my paranoia, Granny pushes back her chair and rises high on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Put your boxes down and eat. I made roast and mashed potatoes.”

Molly Dog has already found a spot under Charly’s feet with Rad, where she’ll get plenty of bits of food. I should follow her lead. Not by getting under the table, but by enjoying Granny’s dinner. She’s a good cook.

But I shake my head. “Later, Gran. When I’m done.”

“What’s with the bins?” Zach asks around his bite of meat and potatoes.

“I’m moving into the apartment above the garage,” I answer without putting down my armload or looking at him. Instead, I find Dad’s eyes. “If that’s still okay.”

Dad’s look of surprise quickly disappears into a smile. “Of course it is! Zach’s not living there anymore.”

I glance at Zach, who nods. “I’m not taking any of the furniture, but I’ll get the odds and ends out of there this week. Just push it into a corner somewhere.”

“It’s about time.” Georgia elbows him. “We’ve been married for two months. I was wondering if you were holding onto your bachelor pad in case we didn’t work out.”

Zach laughs, then narrows his eyes with a sultry look. “Or a love nest for the two of us.”

The entire room, including me, erupts into cries of “Gross! Get a room! TMI!”

When things go quiet again, I turn to Britta. “You okay with me moving there? Did you have plans for it?”

I should have thought to ask my sister first if she wanted the apartment. I should have thought of a lot of things. Like how awkward it would be to move out of my parents’ basement all the way across the yard to the apartment above their garage, in front of Cassie. Definitely doesn’t give the impression that I’ve got adulting all figured out.

Britta answers my question with a shake of her head. “Even if I did want the apartment, I don’t anymore. The love nest image is now burned in my brain.”

I shoot her a smile. “Thanks, Sis.”

“Put the boxes down and eat,” Dad says. “I’ll help you move your stuff after dinner.”

I rarely turn down food, but I do tonight. I thank Dad but tell him I’ll eat later. Now that I’ve got some momentum, I need to ride that wave.

I’m ready for a change. It’s time.

And necessary.

I need to feel like a man if I’m going to stand up in front of the city council. And I have to if my team is going to have their own rink. I have to be able to convince them to buy Grandpa’s shop and the pond for Mom’s park.

There are other places in Paradise for Cassie to open a bookstore, but there’s only one place my girls can play hockey.

There’s only one place where Mom taught me to play hockey.

And I’m not letting that place go without a fight.

Chapter 3

Cassie

Taylor’sThe Manblasts through my AirPods, blocking out every other sound in the empty field behind theAuto Sh. From twenty-five feet away, I zero in on my target, wishing it were an actual bad guy and not a drawing of one. My trigger finger is itchy as I get the perp in my sights, but my pistol is holstered to my ankle, so a golf club and balls have to do. I square my hips, swing the club backwards, and whack the ball as hard as I can.

The ball—and an icy chunk of snow—sails in a high arc. The ice hits the ground long before the ball does, which continues its flight ten feet over and beyond my paper target. Despite being secured tightly to a target stand, the picture of a man holding a woman hostage won’t keep still in the wind blowing across the field, which throws off my aim.

If I’d used my gun, I would have hit him right between the eyes.

Or maybe I wouldn’t have.

Everything feels off.

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