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“Fuck my life,” I breathed out.
“You can say that again,” Billy agreed as we both stood there with our arms crossed over our chests, watching the large patio area of his restaurant get turned into “gala central,” as Molly liked to call it.
“And you actually agreed to this?” I asked, turning to him.
I’d been on patrol and stopped by to see how things were going. I’d had no idea I was going to walk into all this.
He shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Couldn’t say no, could you?” I grinned as he nervously watched the craziness unfold.
He took the towel he had swung over his shoulder moments earlier and blotted his forehead before letting out a defeated breath. “It’s hard to say no to normal Molly Jameson. But pregnant Molly? She’s fucking scary.”
“And busy,” I added, watching Molly, her sister, Millie, and several of their friends buzz around the restaurant, setting up chairs and tables. “What the hell is this anyway? I thought they were just selling tickets?”
He’d told me all about how Molly had begged him to use his patio space for selling tickets. But this? This was something he’d forgotten to mention.
“They are, but you know Molly. She couldn’t just do halfway. She had to throw a bake sale to raise a little extra cash.”
“And all the other crap?” I asked, motioning to the tables filled with jewelry, candles, and a bunch of fancy bath shit.
“I guess they figured if they were gonna sell food, might as well sell some other stuff, too. Fuck if I know. I don’t even know what half that shit is.”
“I thought gay guys were into bath salts and scented candles.” I grinned, pointing to where Millie was stacking small tins of something or other on the table.
“That is the most cliché thing I’ve heard in a long time. And I live in the South.”
I laughed before asking, “Hey, how’s Eli doing?”
We hadn’t gotten the chance to catch up nearly as much as I wanted to the other night. Running into Marin Mendez had put a bit of a damper on my mood, and I’d left after that.
He sighed. “Good, I guess. Travels a lot.”
“Still not set on moving here?”
He shook his head. “Would you be? He grew up in the Bronx. I might as well be asking him to move to Mars.”
Billy had met Eli a year ago online, and they’d been doing the long-distance thing ever since. I honestly didn’t know how they managed when both of them had such busy schedules, but he seemed happy regardless.
Even if he hadn’t told a single soul on the island but me.
“Well, this seems to be under control. Guess I’d better get back to”—I paused for effect—“absolutely nothing.”
He laughed. “Maybe you have nothing to do because you’ve done such a stellar job of keeping us all safe.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I said, remembering a time when I definitely hadn’t done a stellar job—as Billy called it—of keeping the town safe.
“I’ll see you?—”
“Macon!” Millie hollered, interrupting my exit.
“Fuck my?—”
“Life,” Billy finished. “Yeah, we get it. You’d better go see what she wants.” He chuckled, his broad shoulders bouncing up and down. “At least you’re not bored.”
I tried not to roll my eyes before I headed toward Millie’s table of…whatever. I found her hanging small, carved ornaments on a display while her husband stood next to her. At his side, there was a large golden retriever, wearing a vest around its chest.
