I nod, heart full.
A shadow falls across the booth, and I glance up to see Misty and Blake approaching, each holding an iced lemonade. Misty’s already waving.
“Look at you,” she beams, eyeing the stacked boxes. “You’re officially a businesswoman now.”
Blake leans on the edge of the stand. “Smells like sin and sugar over here.”
“That’s the brand,” I say, winking. “Temptation baked fresh.”
Misty takes a sip, then leans in closer, her voice dropping. “Hey, weird question. Some guy came into Town Hall yesterday asking about available properties in Lords Valley. Said his name was Rick. Tall, dark hair, real polished, but… Something about him gave me the creeps.”
My breath stills. Of course Mike’s brother’s here.
Misty catches the shift in my expression. Her smile falters. “You okay?”
I nod, but it’s slow. Heavy. “That must be Mike’s twin, Rick.”
“Seriously?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice low and firm. “Your other half-brother from hell. He’s as bad as Mike. Avoid him as much as Mike.”
Misty stiffens, her grip tightening on her coffee. “Noted. Any more half-sibling spawns I should know about?”
I laugh, but it’s tight. “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they start crawling out of the cornfields.”
Before either of us can say more, Blake holds up his phone to Derek, drawing our attention.
“You’re not gonna like this.”
“It’s official. Mike Bishop’s on the race roster. Signed up as Midnight Racer.”
Derek’s jaw clenches. “Perfect. Midnight Loser is about to get his ass whooped.”
“What about the restraining order?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just closes the message and mutters, “I want to race him. I win on Day One, and he’s gone by Day Two.”
But this isn’t about the race. Not anymore. I can see it in the tight set of Derek’s jaw, in the way his fingers curl at his sides.
Mike isn’t here to compete.
He’s here to provoke.
“You shouldn’t do it,” I say, voice small. “We’re married now. You’re getting the money.”
He shakes his head, jaw tight. “There’s too much riding on this. I can’t back out now. Maybe I gave him new tires. But I didn’t give him a new engine.”
He tries to smirk. Tries to make it a joke. “If that Chevy’s still held together with duct tape and delusion, he won’t last a lap.”
But I hear it in his voice.
He’s not sure.
And neither am I.
What if Mike has another car?
What if Derek crashes? What if this is how I lose everything?
