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Shannon

“Are you sure it’s all right that I’m coming along uninvited, Mara?”

I showed up in Pilgrim four weeks ago and the only person I knew in town was Mara, she ran the bakery I owned, Bread Box. Thanks to her reluctant kindness and generosity, I had a place to stay, even if it was smaller than my walk-in closet in Los Angeles. And now I even had weekend plans. A backyard barbecue.

How quaint.

Mara sighed in that put upon way that she’d perfected in the years I’ve known her. “Of course, it’s fine. The people in this town are unbearably nice and live by the motto: the more, the merrier. This is a good way for you to meet people, Shannon.”

I let out a laugh as we turned onto the block where Olive and Liam lived, because Mara insisted on walking even after she got a glimpse of my red and white gingham wedges.

“You just want me to make more friends so I stop clinging to you.”

Mara shrugged. “You’re not so bad, actually. But this is a stress-free way to meet more people, instead of being accosted at the bakery.” She made an excellent point. In the month that I’d been a temporary resident of Pilgrim, the lines at the bakery moved a lot slower because everyone wanted to know my life story as they waited for cronuts and cheesecake.

“If it’s not all right, I’ll just leave.”

Mara groaned and gave me a shove through the tall wooden door that led to the backyard. “Be more worried about how you’re gonna navigate the grassy backyard in those ridiculous shoes.”

“Ridiculous? You mean fabulous, don’t you?” I stopped just inside the fence to show off my shoes. “Tell me these aren’t amazing.”

Mara stared with a blank expression before a small smile turned the corners of her mouth up. “Yeah, they’re pretty great, but they won’t be by the time you leave.” Her gaze slid to her red Chuck Taylors and then my wedges and back. “At least you can afford to replace them.”

“Thanks to you.”

Mara gave me what I called, the look, the one where she arched one eyebrow and pursed her lips. The look was filled with a mix of emotions, from disbelief to suspicion, with a hint of thinking the other person was a dummy, and she used it effectively. “You were already rich enough to buy the bakery, Shannon.”

“Yes, but you’ve made the Bread Box a success, mostly on your own, and that’s why Daddy keeps releasing my trust money every quarter.” Mara and Bread Box was why I’d packed up and came to Pilgrim in the first place. I owned several small businesses in the south and southwest, but the bakery was the only consistent performer. I needed to find out why.

“So technically, you’re the reason I can afford to replace them, but I really don’t want to have to replace them.”

She shrugged. “Kick ‘em off as soon as we sit down. Olive is a million months pregnant, so she’ll be barefoot or in flip flops.”

“I can’t walk around with no shoes at a stranger’s house!”

Mara snorted and shook her head. “It’s a barbecue in Texas, shoes are always optional. Suit yourself Shannon, but I’m going inside to grab a beer and claim some ribs before the boys eat them all.”

“Speaking of boys, where is your handsome Sheriff?”

“Working. He’ll stop by later to grab some food, because according to him, no one grills better than Liam.”

“Weird, but okay.” I sucked in several deep breaths and let them out slowly, summoning every ounce of courage I could. “Okay I’m ready. Maybe.”

Mara’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Good.”

“Wait. There are no mean girls here, are there?” A lifetime of private education had given me a healthy wariness of big groups, especially close-knit groups.

“Other than me? No. You’re more at risk of being forced to date than anything. Can we go in now?”

I nodded and pushed my auburn waves off my shoulders, no longer ashamed of the freckles that dotted my skin. “Yes. And thanks again, Mara.”

“You can pay me back my making sure I get some ribs, because Xander is right, Liam is the best.”

As soon as we rounded the house, the scent of grilled meat wafted on the breeze and served as a perfect reminder that the only thing in my stomach was a latte and a bite of Mara’s maple bacon breakfast biscuits. “Oh, that smells wonderful.”

“Told ya,” she said proudly and motioned for me to follow her towards a group of people who sat around a wrought iron table, engaging in at least half a dozen different conversations. “Hey guys. This is Shannon, the elusive owner of Bread Box. Shannon this is…everyone.”

A woman with thick black hair pulled into a high bun and gorgeous gray eyes stood and rolled her eyes. “Great intro, Mara. Nice to meet you Shannon, I’m Eva.” She flashed a friendly smile that was at odds with her put together appearance and her words to Mara. “This is my husband Oliver. That’s Tara and Chris, she’s a cop and he’s-,”

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