Page 67 of When You Got a Good Thing (Misfit Inn 1)

“What are you doing? We have visitors.”

“They can wait.” He swung her around, lacing his hands at the small of her back and beaming. “I’m so damned proud of you. You did this. You brought this place into being.”

“Not without a lot of help.”

“Your vision,” he insisted. “And now it’s a reality.”

She pressed her lips to his in a lightning kiss. “Thank you. But the reality is that we have most of town here, and I need to play hostess.”

“Kennedy this is—oh! I’m so sorry.”

Xander pivoted to see a tall brunette in the doorway.

“Elena! You made it!” Kennedy broke away to fling her arms around the other woman.

“Wouldn’t have missed it. This is an amazing turnout.”

“We’re pretty pumped.” She held out her hand to him. “Xander, this is Elena Beckhoff. My editor.”

Xander grinned. So this was the woman making Kennedy’s book a reality. “Pleased to meet you.”

Elena shook his hand, giving him a once over from head to toe before looking back to Kennedy. “You ever considered writing romance? Because, girl, you’ve got some excellent book fodder right here.”

Kennedy beamed at him. “I really do.

If only she knew.

“Xander’s the sheriff here in Stone County.”

“Interim,” he corrected. He’d stepped into the role right after his father’s heart attack.

“Just until the election.” Buck stepped into the room, a plate of appetizers in his hand. “Everybody knows you’re the right man for the job.”

He was almost back to himself, a fact which greatly relieved Xander. He didn’t ever want to see that gray cast to his father’s face again. This was the first major event in town since his doctor had cleared him to go back to normal life. Since Buck was officially retired now, he was still figuring out what that looked like, but he was throwing himself into campaigning on Xander’s behalf. It was an olive branch Xander had opted to take, both because he despised campaigning himself and because he’d realized Kennedy was right. Forgiveness wasn’t for his father. It was for him.

 

; “Dad, you’re not supposed to be eating bacon. Your doctor said.”

“No, it’s fine. I had Athena make a special stack for him with turkey bacon so he could be included,” Kennedy said. “Although…that doesn’t look like turkey bacon.”

“It’s not.” Athena charged into the room and plucked the plate right out of Buck’s hand and gave him another. “These are yours.”

His father eyed the bacon wrapped pears on his plate. “Turkey bacon? That’s a crime against food.”

“On that we agree, old man.”

Kennedy plucked one of the pears off the confiscated plate and bit in. “Mmm, this is good. What is that? Cinnamon?”

“And a pinch of ginger. It’ll be a super simple appetizer you can make once I head back to Chicago. I’ve been working on some menus.”

“Sounds awesome.” Kennedy turned and made a presenting gesture with one hand. “Elena, this is my sister the Michelin-starred chef, Athena. Athena, my editor.”

Elena shook Athena’s hand and tried one of the pears herself. “This is amazing.”

“You should try the rest of the spread.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” The two women headed for the kitchen. “Have you ever considered writing a cookbook? It’s not my area, but I’ve got a colleague…”

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