Page 2 of Carver’s Craving

“Sure.” Dickens’s flashed that grin again. “Old friends is so awesome. I’m glad Styx isn’t as alone as I thought. I’m a fan of collecting friends and keeping them.”

I sure as shit am not collecting people. Least of all Styx.

Who cocked his head at me. “Are you certain? I’m a bit of a pain—”

“It’s fine. You’re fine. Not a big deal.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Dickens nodded. “You live north of Mission City, right? In the hills?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Small property. Decent-sized cabin. Certainly enough room for two guys and two dogs.”

Styx’s eyebrows shot up.

“Right,” Dickens tapped his chin. “Walter and Poppin, if I recall? I read about them in the local paper. Spike and I couldn’t adopt them, but we sure wished we could have. When you mentioned you had, we were so excited.”

Funny—I didn’t remember having told Dickens. Perhaps one day when I’d been in the bookstore? No memory popped into my head. Still, rescuing those two pooches a year ago had been one of the best decisions of my life. Had truly saved my sanity.

“You have dogs?” Styx’s smile widened. He appeared…almost giddy.

“One senior and one with medical challenges. They’re not excitable puppies.” Just so he was clear exactly who he was going to encounter. If he came home with me, that was.

“That’s cool.” He pivoted to Dickens. “I really appreciate the offer. Like, you’re the best.”

“Well, the offer stands. Look, why don’t you come in and I’ll give you that book?”

Styx blinked. “I can’t ask you to give me a book.”

“You didn’t ask—I offered. I liked that you were interested—even though most people find the subject matter a little dry.”

“What subject matter?” I was trying to keep up.

“It’s a hardcover about the history of Mission City,” Dickens chuckled. “Lots of fascinating stories and illustrations. It’s kind of a brick so I don’t sell many, and no one’s ever come back and raved about it. You—” He turned his attention to Styx, “—seemed captivated by it.”

“I was. I am.” Again, with the vibrating excitement.

Yeah. But does he have the money for a book like that? Otherwise, why hadn’t he already bought it? Why was Dickens offering it as a gift? What was the relationship between the two men? That wasn’t at all clear to me. “Uh, I haven’t read anything about local history. I’m sort of interested in Mission City.” Not totally a lie. After a year, I should’ve known more.

“It’s all about the Stó:lō, Kwantlen, and a bunch of other Indigenous tribes. Wow, I can’t believe I remember that.” Styx rubbed his forehead.

“If you won’t accept it from me, you can try the library.” Dickens eyed me as if trying to figure out what my game was.

Good fucking luck—I don’t have one. “The library is a good idea.” Because I had to offer something.

“I don’t have a library card.” Styx pouted. Honest to God, stuck out his lower lip.

He’s what…twenty-three? Twenty-four? He’s barely out of his teen years. He hasn’t lived— Nope. Couldn’t go there either. He’d lost one of his best friends when he’d been twenty-two. That made someone grow up fast—whether they were willing to acknowledge it or not.

“We can use my card.” Inwardly, I sighed. “Or I can just buy the book now. I was heading toward The Owl’s Nest anyway. I can just add it to my purchase.” In truth, I wasn’t a rich man either, and spending unplanned money wasn’t always a good idea. Still, I’d gotten paid yesterday, and I made a good salary—a couple of books weren’t going to break the bank.

Dickens cocked his head, lips parting as if to speak. Then he appeared to wave off the idea. “Right. The one you ordered.”

Thank God.

He gestured toward the store. “Sunshine’s working. I was just doing a coffee run. Can I get you guys anything?”

Triple espresso with a dash of milk sounds lovely. I won’t ask because clearly you’re headed to Tim Horton’s—where they don’t sell that particular brew—and I don’t want to feel like I owe you something.

Styx cast his gaze at me.