Page 74 of Sweet and Salty

Harbor walks away, whistling to himself, never letting on that he has a service pistol in a holster hidden beneath his polo.

How to find Laura?

I walk toward the duck pond first, knowing her affinity for animals. There is a little dog and cat adoption tent set near the concession stands, but no Laura.

“Dr. Vargas!” Opal Larson waves me over to where she and Maddy Olmstead have set up lawn chairs. Their twin Labradoodles sleep at their feet, curled on each other like nesting dolls. “Welcome back! Will you do me a favor and check out Peaches’s paw? She got something stuck in there last week and I’m worried about her.”

“Opal.” Maddy slaps her friend’s arm playfully. “He’s barely recovered from getting shot. And he hasn’t seen Laura. What ifshe’s changed her mind? Two months is a long time, dontcha know.” With sparkling eyes, she turns to me. “And if you’re looking at Peaches, can you check out Cream’s teeth? No matter what I try, she gets the tartar so bad.”

Surprise, surprise. I missed St. Olaf. “Sure. I’ll stop by later, okay? I want to find Laura.”

“Oh yeah, you betcha.” Maddy and Opal wave and I pass them right by.

Only to be stopped by Moe, who, despite handing out bratwurst with the reticence of a monk who’s taken a vow of silence, calls out to me. “Jesse!”

“Hi, Moe.” We’ve never been hugging-type people, so I lift a hand to him instead.

“Have a brat.” He hands me a plate with a bratwurst in a bun, drenched in beer-scented onions. “Good to have you back. I was thinking about going fishing again.”

“Any time, Moe. Any time. It will be a while before my vet license gets approved, and I don’t know if you’ve found someone else to help—”

“You’re hired. See you Tuesday. Enjoy the picnic.” Moe turns to the next customer.

Surprise, surprise. I really did miss this town.

I nod at him and the ladies staffing the popcorn and pretzels and continue toward the picnic-cloth-covered tables laden with homemade food.

I like bratwurst just fine, especially with onions and maybe some sauerkraut. But not before I see Laura.

Because there she is, laughing and smiling with her family. She looks gorgeous. Eight weeks of video chats while I was doing rehab at a safe house was not enough.

With Moe’s bratwurst brandished in hand like a bizarre gift, I walk toward them all. Nervous? Why the fuck am I nervous? I have to get over myself.

After all, I’m home for a reason.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Jesse

Davey must have seen me,because he squeaks and runs toward me, wrapping his arms around my knees and smearing the backs of my pants with chocolate-scented kringle. I laugh and scoop him up with the arm not holding bratwurst. Rehab is a brilliant invention. I feel practically bionic. “Hey, Davey.”

“Hey, grumpy lumberjack. Auntie Laura missed you.”

Then I don’t have enough arms. Laura rushes toward me and presses her body to mine. Davey squirms so I set him down, hand him the bratwurst, and give my full attention to my beautiful Laura Marshall.

Which means kissing her. Long and deep and obvious enough to gain quite a few comments of “ooh” and “oh, knock it off then” from the rest of the fairgoers.

But it feels too good to be there with her. I wrap my arms around her, sinking into all the familiar sensations I’ve been desperate for over the last two months. “I missed you.”

She sighs happily and rests against my chest. “I missed you too.”

“Did you win the contest yet?”

Laughing, she balances on her tiptoes and kisses the underside of my job. “No, not yet. The judging starts in a few.”

“Perfect. Plenty of time to give you your present. I thought long and hard about it.”

She smirks. “Maybe you shouldn’t give it to me in public then.”

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