Page 70 of The Bitter Heir and the Beauty

A rash of heat breaks out across my skin because I’m here and she’s there, and there’s not a thing I can do. Honey is strong but rattled and I hate that.

Thinking fast, I say, “I’ll have SecuriTech outfit the restaurant by the end of the week.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Careful with those words, Honey,” I say, my voice sharper than I mean because if she dares to try to push me away when it comes to her safety, I will mow down Hogwash and anyone who so much as touches a hair on her head—or a potato in her restaurant.

“I thought maybe it could’ve been Roxy and Sawyer again, given the fact they were behind the stolen rotating root beer mug. But Jesse thinks it has something to do with the Hunt.”

I nod, recalling our conversation a few weeks ago when she heard noises outside the chateau.

“Could be early bird scavengers.”

“Well, they’d better watch out ... no one has found Chick Jagger. If I’m not mistaken, the mayor is a bird and the crocogator is on the loose.”

She laughs faintly.

“Is Leonie okay?”

“She’s with Lexi today.”

“How about you?” I ask to give her a chance to lean on me if she needs to.

“You know me.”

“What was your good news from earlier?” I ask, following up with an apology for not being able to reply.

“I think I’ll let it be a surprise.”

I eye my truck parked in the gravel lot, eager for the next three weeks to fly by.

Thankfully, they do without incident—well, there was Couger in the kitchen with the squash souffle. Thankfully, we’reequipped with fire extinguishers, fire blankets, and baking soda in a pinch. Kids, do not try this at home.

They call him Couger because he’s the youngest on the team, yet the older ladies seem to love him anytime we go to town. Fitting he’d make souffle which seems like it would be a hit with the silver-haired set. No offense to anyone. I found a couple of grays on my head the other day.

Eggs remind me of chickens which makes me think of Hogwash’s supposed mayor. As the owner of the town, according to parish statutes, I’m not eligible to take on that role, but that begs the question: How was a rooster voted in?

Maybe his hens lay golden eggs.

It’s then I know what I’m going to get Leonie and Honey for Christmas.

The last time we video call before I hit the road, I tease her with hints about my gifts. Her expression falters and I remember she’s not great at receiving things from other people. But this one, she’ll love.

“Well, I still have a surprise for you when you get back. Bring an appetite.”

“Oh, I will ... and not just for flapjacks.” I wink and then end the call because the truck is gassed up and I’m bound and determined to get to Hogwash by Christmas.

Chapter 17

Deck the Walls

Is it weird that I’m nervous about Maddock coming home? If I were a normal person, no, not at all. Having butterflies about a guy is perfectly acceptable.

But I’m me. Honey Hamilton. Pancake Queen and Independent Girl Boss.

But that’s just it.

All this time, I’ve been thinking like a girl and not a woman. A mature adult would realize that it’s okay to sometimes ask for help and receive it. I can be strong but don’t need to seize and hold on to my so-called independence with a death grip at the cost of relationships with people who truly want to help. Meanwhile, I’ve been pushing everyone away or making them feel bad about their generosity.

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