I nod.
“I love that. Gosh, I can’t get over how darling this all is!” Poppy’s head is on a swivel as she takes in the heart of downtown. Her face is shining in the late-afternoon sun. Even Rose, the more serious of the two, is eagerly peering out the front windshield.
Since I’ve lived here my entire life, the charming shops and picturesque views have become second nature, and I guess I take them for granted. Along the street, the sidewalks are wide and lined with planters overflowing with an assortment of seasonal blooms. Antique lampposts outfitted with modern electric functionality are strategically positioned on each corner. They’re my favorite part of the downtown Cashmere Cove landscape.
The buildings are a mixture of brick and siding, and each has a wooden sign hanging perpendicular from its façade, announcing what business is housed inside.
“There’s Mood Reader.” Rose points to a long, narrow building with a wide front window.
Nearby there’s also the hardware store, the flower shop, the ice cream parlor, several tourist-trap restaurants and souvenir shops, and of course, the Getaway Café—the best place to go for coffee in town.
“Oh! Holland mentioned the Getaway Café in his email. He said I should try the cinnamon rolls.”
“You heard from Holland?” Rose shifts in her seat so she’s facing her sister.
I cut a sidelong glance at Poppy. She’s beaming.
“Yep!” she says. “Earlier this afternoon.”
She looks so happy it makes my stomach hurt to know that it wasn’t Holland who reached out, but me.
“Here we are.” I park outside Romeo’s, thankful to have an excuse to change the subject and not dwell on the email Poppy received (that, in a strange twist, I wrote!).
I lead the way to Romeo’s, and Poppy falls into step next to me with Rose behind us.
We walk in silence for a couple beats, but then Poppy tugs on my arm. “Uh, Mack, not to be a paranoid Polly, but you aren’t taking us somewhere to murder us, are you? This back alley feels a little sketchy, if I’m being honest.”
Her gaze darts to the high walls of brick on either side of us.
“If you thought I was going to murder you, I don’t think you’d be asking me about it.”
“True. I’d clobber you over the head, Pops would grab your keys, and we’d make a break for it,” Rose says without missing a beat.
Poppy nods solemnly, her big blue eyes wide.
I’m fighting a full-fledged laugh at the ridiculousness of this entire situation.
“Cashmere Cove has its local haunts and its tourist traps,” I explain. “Unlike Mood Reader and the Getaway Café that have storefronts on Main Street, Romeo’s can only be accessed through a back entrance. You’ve got to know it’s here to find it. It’s the best restaurant in town.”
That means it’ll also be full of at least half the town.
The good mood Poppy and Rose have me in disintegrates at the thought. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer the locals to the tourists, but I also still run the risk of getting shunned by some members of the Cashmere Cove community every time I go out. That’s what happens when you have a messy break-up with the town darling.
The daughter of the Cove’s beloved police chief.
The one and only Tricia Rattler—or, Tricia Reynolds, now that she’s married.
I hold the door for Poppy and Rose to walk in ahead of me, and once inside, I scan the dimly lit pizza joint. Mercifully, the place doesn’t look too crowded. Pizza Master Kenny is in the kitchen. I can see him through the look-through window.
Yes, he goes by Pizza Master Kenny, or PMK for short.
We stop by the hostess’s station, and a teenager leads us to a table tucked into a back corner.
“It smells amazing in here.” Poppy beams and pulls in a deep breath.
“I’m starving,” Rose says as she plops down into her seat, grabbing for a menu. “What’s good, Mack?”
“Everything.”
