Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Two guys I sort of recognized from the Lope came up, interrupting Brooks’s questions with a shout.
“There he is! Dude, where have you been all week? And don’t get me started on that shirt, bro,” the first one laughed.
Brooks’s shirt proclaimed him Head Licker, of course, but this time, for some reason, I wanted to murder anyone who thought it was funny.
“Look at you, all dressed up to oversee the kids in the Great Ice Cream Lickening!” the second dude-bro said, punching Brooks in the arm. “Sometimes it feels like just last year when the three of us were in that contest—you, me, and Len. Remember, Brooks?”
Brooks smiled and nodded like he was ready to start reminiscing, but the first guy interrupted. “Ethan, buddy, it was just last year when you were in the contest. You’re why Mayor Johnson had to institute an age limit on the participants.” He rolled his eyes and looked at me. “Ethan’s two favorite things are ice cream and contests, you know? It wasn’t fair to the little ones for him to win all the time.”
“Screw that.” Ethan folded his arms over his chest and scowled. “Rosetti almost beat me last year.”
“Gino Rosetti? The guy who was a year ahead of us in school?” Brooks looked confused.
Len shook his head. “Nah. Gino’s daughter Gabby. She’s eight. Big brown eyes and brown pigtails.”
“But with the ice-cream-eating power of someone three times her size!” Ethan said defensively.
“Sure, bud,” Len soothed. To Brooks, he said, “You gonna be at the unofficial Lickening tonight? We’re planning a shot contest, and you and Ava have to come. It’ll be like old times.”
Brooks’s gaze flicked to me before he looked back at the two men. “Yeah, uh, sure. Of course. You’ll have to ask Ava, though. This is, uh… her boyfriend, Mal.”
Len crinkled his brow and gave me a judgy up-down. “No shit?”
I stuck out my hand. “Mal Forrester. Nice to meet you.”
He shook my hand, making sure to prove his masculinity with a tight grip. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I retained my manners instead.
“I’m Len Dixon, and this here’s Ethan Howe. We’re friends of Ava and Brooks from high school. Come on by the Tavern tonight and hang out with us, alright? We’d love to catch up with Ava, and you can hear all kinds of stories of what these two got up to back then.” He winked and slapped me on the shoulder before fist-bumping Brooks and leading his friend to another booth.
“Mpfh,” I muttered under my breath. Brooks furrowed his brow at me, but before he could accuse me of being a dick, another group of people walked up calling out his name.
“Oh Brooks, darling! Look at you. So much like your daddy. See, Vera, I told you he was the spitting image of Red. That time in the big city didn’t change anything, now did it?”
Brooks’s jaw tightened the barest amount, enough to tell me what he was thinking, that he sure hoped his time in New York had changed him at least some.
“Hi, Mrs. Little. Miss Viv. Are you enjoying the fair?” Brooks put on his bland politeness mask, all Vaseline teeth and Southern-fried platitudes. Gone was the genuine insecurity of the boy who’d stumbled over why he hadn’t found love yet. As far as anyone around would know from looking at him right now, Brooks Johnson had the world in his teeth. Everything was under control and just the way he wanted it.
But as soon as those ladies wandered off, forty bucks lighter in the purse and weighed down with metal woodland creatures, his mask fell.
“Can I take over here for a little bit so you can catch a break?” he asked. A sliver of concern wrinkled his forehead. “It’s awfully hot, and I don’t want you to—”
Dr. Dalton finally made his decision. “Son, I think I’m going to have to take this croc off your hands, if you don’t mind. I was wondering if you might be interested in making a few other pieces to go with it. There’s no rush, mind you, but we have a big wall space in the office that could use a few more pieces, and these are just perfect.”
I turned to help him with both his purchase and talking through the commission. I was grateful to discuss any commission with someone since Ava had discovered the tech CEO she’d promised me was out of town on business this week.
Despite tuning in to what my customer wanted, I was also very aware of where Brooks was in the booth. He answered questions for a few people and even helped ring up another one, wrapping the little superhero figure carefully in newspaper before handing it over for the customer to place into her canvas shopping bag. After that, he was called away, presumably to put out some kind of fire.