Page 23 of Building What's Meant to Be

Suddenly heavy with dread, I say, “Did you say three days or thirty?”

“Thirty days, miss.”

“Thirty days of community service here in Butterbury, together?” I repeat as my world comes to a screeching halt.

“You got it,” Officer Henley says as if he just announced that we’re going to an overwater bungalow on Bora Bora. I could really use a trip like that right now.

Instead, I’m stuck. Here. In Butterbury.

“Can we rethink this? I’m supposed to be in—I mean I was planning to—” But there isn’t anywhere I’m supposed to be nor are the people I know in Miami expecting me. Plus, we only met once before while at a birthday party for a mutual friend while at a resort in Cabo.

Aiden leans against the bars as if he’s as thrilled as me by this turn of events, which is to say the news is about as welcome as getting arrested and thrown in jail.

“My good buddy Bubba has his hands full at the moment. Seems that the television show, Designed to Last, really boosted business. He can hardly keep up. Sadly, neither can his building. It’s half sunk into the marsh, overtaken by weeds, and the roof among other things needs repairs,” Officer Henley says.

“I can ask Mae and the ladybosses if they can take on the project. They love Bubba’s,” Aiden replies.

“Mae?” I ask without thinking.

“Yeah, my sister. She and her friends, who call themselves the ladybosses, have a show on HLTV called Designed to Last. Have you heard of it?” Aiden asks.

“Yeah,” I answer vaguely because I’ve also heard of Mae...and I met her. And said some unkind words to her.

“She’s married to my best friend, Taylor Whitmer.” Aiden leans as close as possible given the bars between us and lowers his voice. “You may have heard of him too. He used to be the guitarist in PJ and the Oak Brook Boys.”

Officer Henley hums one of their hits.

Even though it’s cold in this cell, I draw heat from somewhere and it goes straight to my face. Not in a flirty way. Nope, it’s like I’m caught red-cheeked. “Oh, right. Yup. Mmmhmm. I’ve heard of him. Them. The band. The guy too. Yep.” My response comes out twisted like a pretzel and dry too. I have a sudden coughing fit.

“Are you okay, miss?” Officer Henley asks with concern followed by Aiden gripping the bars closest to me.

I turn around and catch my breath, waving them off and saying, er, croaking, “I’m fine. Just swallowed wrong.”

But I’m not fine. Taylor and I have a history and there was the whole showdown at his farmhouse when Mae showed up with a chicken.

When I finally attempt to take a deep breath, it’s like my windpipe suddenly has edges and the air won’t quite go down all the way.

Officer Henley inserts the key in the lock of Aiden’s cell. “I have your word?” He claps him on the shoulder and his fingers flex slightly, suggesting his grip is firm.

“Yes, sir. I will try to find the cat, return it, and of course, do whatever Bubba needs.”

“Good man. I’ll check in on progress.” Then Officer Henley turns to my cellblock.

I stand in the center of the small space as the key slides in, the door opens, and my freedom awaits.

But I don’t move. I might be better off in here. The problem isn’t only Taylor Whitmer and Mae, but that she’s Aiden’s sister and we have to work together on Bubba’s—whatever that is—for thirty days.

When the small-town connections are made, I don’t think Aiden will be joking around that I’m the future Mrs. Mayor.

“You coming?” Officer Henley says, gesturing for me to exit.

I’m about to wring my hands and ask if he has a cot, so I could just stay here. He wouldn’t need to lock the door or anything unless the townsfolk come for me.

When he gestures, I stumble forward, hoping Aiden is about as protective over his sister as my brothers are over me, which isn’t protective at all.

“Too bad we didn’t meet under different circumstances, Miss Humber, but welcome to Butterbury. I hope you enjoy your stay,” the police officer says as I follow Aiden outside.

“Thanks,” I say lightly.

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