Travis

by Mia Sheridan

“I didn’t realize you were that cheap,” I said.

Plus, if I became an unwitting witness to any sort of domestic displays of physical affection between the two of them, I’d have to find a therapist, or maybe a lobotomist, and a serious medical procedure wasn’t currently in the budget.

We serve my sister Cricket’s homemade hooch.” My brows flew up. “Prison wine?” “That’s right. She perfected it in the toilet inside her cell during her time away, and now it’s a family favorite and all the rave at social hour.”

There was a tall potted plant next to the bed and I turned to it. Living things feed off energy. “How’s it going?” I asked the plant, hitting a new life low.

I glanced at a potted plant nearby, noticing others flanking the room. I nodded at one of them. “Your refugees?” She smiled. “Yes. They’re doing beautifully.”

A full house of eclectic misfits. And I was now one of them.

Cricket nodded. “That it does. Of course, not making it in a toilet means it lacks a little something.” “We’re all grateful for that, Cricket,” Haven offered.

the flavor is that much better when excess bacteria aids the fermentation process.” She tapped her head. “Prison science.”

When his eyes met mine, he said simply, “You’re perfect.”

When Travis hesitated, she said, “Come on, Chief, you’re off duty and Burt here will drive us home.”

Betty had lost her words, and Burt had spent years collecting them.

“Promise me you’ll always do it, even when I’m gone. It will be my legacy.”

The vision crashed over me like a dizzying wave. It was my dock, my house, the picture I’d tried so hard to insert Phoebe into and come up short.

I wanted to laugh and fall to my knees. It was hilarious. And completely tragic.

What I did know—suddenly and unmistakably—was that she was capable of shattering my heart. And if she was going to, all I could do was let her.

“Stop accosting me, Chief.” “Accosting you? I’m not accosting you!”

I stood in front of her, reaching out, grabbing her hands and closing my eyes. “Tell me what you see,” I demanded.

And then I rolled on top of her, crushing her momentarily as she laughed and pretended to choke.

Second best. And second best didn’t even deserve a goodbye.

him. He had a teasing glint in his eye. And then there was the sex— “Don’t tell me about the sex.”

Most unwanted.

Im physically in pain reading this

“Maybe it seems quick—” “Maybe it seems like it’s about damn time!” someone yelled from the crowd below.

“I ran over my in-law’s dog and replaced it with a new one,” Bill Donnelly confessed.

“Well, now you’ll have to retire. In shame,” I heard Maggie hiss accusingly.

Cricket stood up. “I killed Betty’s husband and I’m not sorry about it.” My head, along with Archer’s and Bree’s swiveled in unison.

“Okay, okay,” Bree said. “Point made. Um, thank you?”

“Do we really need a public official who did what’s on page fifty-three? And in a church?” “To be specific, it was in the graveyard,” another voice chimed in. “That’s worse!” came a shout.

“Seems like the perfect place to help others plant ten thousand gardens,”

“I’m going to kill you.” “Excuse me?” “Why would things progress with Gage when I’m in love with you?”