Mister Naughty (Smalltown Secrets #6) - Cat Johnson Page 0,1
that down.” I picked up my cell and typed the idea for the title into the notes app before turning my attention back to Red and Bethany.
“I pretty sure it’s because of your . . . books.” Bethany cringed, no doubt because she knew how I was going to react to that statement.
She was correct. I felt my blood pressure rise.
“Seriously? Still? Two years I’ve been in this town and they still can’t accept I write—gasp—romance novels? Worse, since the week after I arrived they’ve been sneaking around reading those books yet they still pretend they’re shocked and appalled by the genre.” I shook my head at the hypocrisy of it all.
“Shocked and appalled. That could be a good title for a book,” Red suggested.
“No,” I shook my head, dismissing her idea without a second thought as my mind whirred with a jumble of thoughts, all being stirred by a good dose of anger.
I tried to calm my thoughts enough to formulate a plan for revenge. If only because the old biddies and their nickname for me had ruined my enjoyment of my first pumpkin spice cupcake of the season. That, above all else, was unforgivable.
Eyes narrowed, I said, “This needs a suitable rebuttal.”
“Like what?” Bethany asked.
“I’m not sure yet. But I’ve got to do something. They can’t get away with calling me names and not have me do anything about it.”
“To be fair, you call them names too,” Red pointed out.
In spite of the admitted truth of that, I turned to stare at her. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. Definitely yours,” she rushed to say.
I tipped my head. “Thank you. Besides, Binoculars Brimley more than earned her name.”
“She definitely did.” Red nodded.
“One hundred percent,” Bethany chimed in.
Moderately satisfied with their agreement, I reached for my cupcake again as I still searched for appropriate retribution to the biddies’ new assault on my character and my livelihood.
“So, what else is new with everyone?” Bethany asked, over-cheerfully.
I sent her a sideways glance in response to her thinly veiled effort to change the subject and make me forget I was angry. “Same old stuff for me. Just busy writing my next naughty book. What about you two?”
When Red didn’t offer up anything, Bethany leaned forward. “Well, I’m working on a menu for a Honey Buns booth at the Winter Wonderland the Rotary is setting up at the tree lot at Morgan’s farm market. My booth at Autumn Fest is always such a hit, we decided to try it for the Christmas season. They get tons of traffic from people stopping by to pick up a tree.”
“Excellent idea,” Red agreed. “I can picture people loving someplace to grab a hot cocoa and a gingerbread cookie while they search for their Christmas tree.”
“That’s what we figured.” Bethany nodded.
Since I wasn’t contributing all that much to the conversation at the moment, there was another pause before Red said, “I’ve been listing some items from the shop on the Mudville forum. You know, it’s that online community bulletin board. I actually sold a few things off there, so that’s been nice.”
In any given day I spent literally hours online, but I’d forgotten about the Mudville forum. “I signed up on there when I first moved here. I logged in a few times but there wasn’t much happening so I never went back.”
Red nodded. “It was pretty new back then and there wasn’t much action. But posts have markedly picked up.”
“I try to check it out at least a couple of times a week. There are posts about community events. People announce garage sales. And, like Red said, there are always things for sale. I’ve even seen threads pop up with people asking for advice.”
Advice. The word sparked a flash of brilliance. The perfect plan for payback hit me like a lightning bolt.
“Hmm . . .” I stared blindly out the window at Main Street as the pieces started to form a complete picture in my mind of how I could respond to my haters.
“Uh, oh,” Red mumbled.
I found both Red and Bethany watching me and asked, “What?”
“You’re planning something,” Red accused.
“And I have a feeling the old biddies aren’t going to like it,” Bethany added.
I smiled, the kind of exuberant Grinch-worthy smile that only the most deliciously evil plan elicited. “You’re both right.”
Picking up my cupcake, I took a huge flavor-filled bite.
Pumpkin spice—and revenge—had never tasted so sweet.
TWO
Stone
There was nothing more peaceful after a hard morning of chores than kicking back in solitude.
Just a man and his