AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"He doesn’t look happy," Keaton pointed out quietly.
"He isn’t." Knox slapped his cousin on the back.
From behind him, Knox heard the voice of an older woman.
"Hello, there, Mr. Savage. Who is your friend?"
"That’s my brother, Knox," Ford explained gruffly.
Knox still had his back turned to his brother, so he couldn’t see his face, but he’d bet his life savings that he wore his signature scowl.
"Oh, is he staying in town for a while?" the woman asked.
"I hope not," his brother grumbled.
"Well, make introductions," she demanded.
"Knox!" Ford barked.
Knox turned around slowly to find a woman with short gray hair, a round face, and rosy cheeks. She wore a pink dress covered in tiny white flamingos, paired with a floppy turquoise-blue hat and yellow purse. It was a bold choice of ensemble. Clearly, this woman enjoyed attention and did not want to blend in with the crowd.
"This is Mrs. Weathersby," Ford begrudgingly said in the introduction.
Knox grinned from ear to ear as he walked over and took her extended hand, wrapping it in both of his. "Ah, yes. Mrs. Weathersby of Needlepoint Mafia fame.” At six feet four, he towered over her, so he leaned down closer to her five-foot frame as he whispered, "I’ve heard all about the trouble you and your friends Mrs. Dobrinski and Mrs. Chen get up to."
Mrs. Weathersby’s rosy cheeks reddened to a deeper shade as she giggled. "Oh, now, where did you hear that?"
"You ladies are famous, or should I sayinfamous?" Knox winked.
"Oh, you stop." She swatted him away with her free hand.
According to what Knox had learned from his cousin and brother, Mrs. Weathersby, Mrs. Dobrinski, and Mrs. Chen, all of whom were in their late 80s and early 90s, led The Needlepoint Mafia, a knitting group. Apparently, the monthly yarn and needle gathering was a front for the elderly trio of cupids to discuss their matchmaking marks, which were single people who were usually in their thirties and forties. Sure, sometimes their tactics were sneaky and dishonest, and rumor had it that they were even illegal. But, hey, all’s fair in love and war.
In Knox’s eyes, the matchmaking dons had gotten a bad rap. What better way to spend retirement than by setting people up to fall in love? Knox planned on befriending all three of the lovely ladies and offering himself as a tribute.
Knox wasn’t exactly batting a thousand in the love department. He was what is most often referred to as a serial monogamist. As a point of pride, though, in all of the years that he’d been swimming in the dating pool, he’d never cheated, lied, or even made a single false promise.
He fell hard and fast, but then lost interest quickly. It had been suggested over the years that he mistook love for another four-letter L word, lust. Maybe that was the case. But since he planned on being in Whisper Lake for a while, he thought it would be nice if he let the professionals do their thing.
In the spirit of full disclosure, his dating life wasn’t the only reason he wanted to get close to the Three Cupidteers. These three love-mafiosas had all the dirt on everyone. From what his mom and Keaton had told him, Ford’s girlfriend, and most likely his soon-to-be fiancée since his mom sent the ring, had grown up in Whisper Lake.
The Needlepoint Mafia would know if she had skeletons in her closet. If she was only going after Ford because he’d won the lottery. Or if, as he truly hoped the case would be, her intentions were pure.
Knox made a show of looking around. "I don’t see Mr. Weathersby today."
The blush deepened on Mrs. Weatherby’s face as she batted her eyes up at him. "Fred’s home with a migraine."
Knox offered his arm. "Well, then would you allow me to do the honor of escorting you to your seat?"
She wrapped her hand around his bicep, and he noted that she squeezed as she did.
Even from a few paces behind him, Ford’s disdain at his brother’s behavior was palpable as Knox escorted Mrs. Weathersby down the aisle to her seat, which was really just the cherry on top for him of this afternoon wedding sundae.
"My, my, you Savage men sure do keep in shape," Mrs. Weathersby commented as she squeezed his arm once again. "And you’re all very easy on the eyes, too."
She wasn’t wrong. All of the Savage men were built well and athletic, but that’s really where their similarities stopped.
Ford had never been what one would consider friendly or outgoing. He was the strong, silent type. He was hard-working, loyal, and would do anything for the people he loved, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d never had a big group of friends and would fall into the loner category. He kept to himself and kept his interactions to a minimum.
