AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Youheading back to the city tomorrow?” he asked, and a little jolt of excitement charged through her.Washe putting feelers out?God, she hoped he was putting feelers out.
“Iam,” she answered. “Assoon as the roads are clear.”
“Youmust be staying at theShephardInn.”
“Iam,” she repeated. “Youknow it?”
Helaughed softly. “It’sthe only hotel in town, and it was founded by my grandparents.Youprobably met my sisterAutumnwhen you checked in.”
Hereyebrows rose slightly. “Oh,Autumn’syour sister?Yourfamily runs it?”
Henodded. “Forover eighty years now.”Again, the idea of deep roots struck her, and she felt…untethered.Likesomething meaningless just floating, unconnected to anything else.Shetook a long sip of her beer, doing her best to ignore the weight on her chest.
“So, you’ve got a brother and a sister,” she said, but he shook his head.
“I’vegotfourbrothers and a sister.I’mthe second of six.”
Shealmost choked on her drink. “Six?Wow.Ican’t even…Imean,I’man only child, soIcan’t even picture what it would be like to have so many people around all the time.”
“Annoyingas fuck,” saidBeckett.
“Wheredo you fall in the six?” she asked.Hewas definitely younger thanJackby several years.
“I’mShephardkid number five.Autumnis the baby.”
“Doyou all still live here?”
“Allexcept one,” saidJack, and with the wayBeckett’sjaw tightened, she had a feeling they’d inadvertently waded back into choppy conversational waters.Well, if there was anyone who was good at brushing messy things like feelings under the table, it wasRosalie.Godknew she had thirty-four years’ worth of practice.
“Still, you must know each other really well,” she said, tracing her fingers up and down her pint glass, gathering condensation.Jack’sgaze followed her fingers, hisAdam’sapple bobbing as he swallowed. “Whatdo you thinkBeckettwould be doing if he wasn’t a bartender?Notthat there’s anything wrong with being a bartender,” she added quickly.
Jacksmirked. “HethinksIdon’t know this, but he’s got a brochure for the police academy tucked away somewhere in his apartment.”
Beckettlaid his hands on the bar, arms spread. “Idon’t want to be a beat cop,Iwant to be a homicide detective.”
Jacklaughed. “Imean, yeah, that’s how it works.Yougraduate as a rookie and they hand you a detective shield and a bunch of cold cases.”WhenBeckettsighed,Jackshook his head. “Youwork your way up to it.LikehowIworked my way up to being theChief.”
Rosalie’seyes widened. “You’retheChiefof police?”
“Hehas a staff of four,” interjectedBeckett. “Idon’t want to give out parking tickets.I’mjust really into murder.”Heopened and closed his mouth. “Not…wow, that sounded bad.Notin a creepy way.”
“What’sthe non-creepy way to be into murder?” askedRosalie.Jackshifted closer, his knee brushing against her thigh.
“Youknow, true crime shit.”
“Maybeyou should start a podcast,” she said. “Couldbe fun.”
Beckettblinked, and then shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”
She’dbeen about to ask another question when theRangershad another breakaway, stealing her attention for a minute.
“Damn,”Jackground out when the goalie made a killer glove save. “Atleast they’re back in it.”
“Okay, question for you,” she said toBeckettonce the excitement had died down. “What’ssomethingJackdid growing up that your parents never found out about?”
Becketttipped his head back and laughed. “Oh, man.I’vegot a few.”
“Comeon man, don’t make me look bad,” saidJackin an exaggerated stage whisper.
