are your crutches?”
“No, I’m fine. I left them at Nature’s Basket.”
“Why would you leave your crutches at the grocery store?”
“Because I borrowed this.” He gestured to the scooter. “I figure if I’m going to show you around town, it’ll be easier if I don’t have to walk on crutches the whole time.”
“I don’t think those are meant to be borrowed off premises.”
“I left a note. I’m sure it’s fine. Are you ready?”
“Um…”
“You can bring your coffee.”
“That’s okay, I’m finished, but—”
He put the scooter in reverse, and it started beeping. I glanced around the shop. A few people were watching him with irritated expressions. I winced, wondering if I should apologize.
“Hey Sky, can you get the door?”
“Oh, yeah.”
I held the door open while he struggled to turn the scooter around. There wasn’t much room between the tables. After a few starts and stops, he just backed up through the opening, beeping the entire way.
“This thing is harder to drive than I thought it would be.”
I laughed. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at you.”
“You’re totally laughing at me, but that’s okay.” He backed up a few inches, straightened the wheels, and moved forward again. “I think I’m getting it now. Do you want to ride with me?”
I had a sudden vision of straddling Gavin’s lap on the scooter. Sliding my leg over one side and settling on top of him. Feeling the pressure of the bulge in his pants pressing between my legs.
“No. No, I’ll walk,” I said quickly.
“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. Your shoes are cute, but if your feet get tired, you can totally hop on.”
Hop on Gavin Bailey? God, why did that make me think of sex? That wasn’t what he meant, and I was sure he wasn’t thinking about sex. A little burst of tingles between my legs almost made me clench my thighs together.
I nervously tucked my hair behind my ear. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Tilikum town tour commencing.” He gestured to the coffee shop behind me. “That’s the Steaming Mug, of course. Grace runs it.”
“It’s nice. Good coffee.”
“Yeah, and it’s a great place to meet girls.” He winked, those dimples of his puckering in his cheeks.
“Good to know.”
He grinned and pulled ahead, so I took a few quick steps to follow.
“Across the street is Bigfoot Diner. They’re open for breakfast and lunch. Best pancakes in town.” He pointed to another restaurant a block over. “That’s the Copper Kettle Diner. We don’t go there.”
“Let me guess. That’s a Haven restaurant?”
“Yup. So it’s a no-go when you’re on the Bailey side.”
“And hanging out with you puts me on the Bailey side, I suppose.”
“The Stanleys have always been on the Bailey side. But yeah, hanging out with me does it too. Especially since we’re being seen together in public.” He lifted his hand and waved to two men standing outside the Copper Kettle. “Hey, Theo. Garrett.”
Both men scowled at him.
“Nice ride,” one of them said, his sarcasm clear as day.
“Thanks. Did you enjoy your donuts?”
“Fuck off, Gavin,” the other one said.
I took an involuntary step backward, although neither of them seemed interested in coming over here. They turned their backs on us and went into the diner.
“What was that about?”
Gavin gave an amused chuckle. “That was Garrett and Theo Haven. We sent them donuts filled with mayonnaise the other day. It’s the second time we’ve done it, but judging by the looks on their faces, they forgot to check before eating them.”
“Gross.”
“It’s a classic.”
We made our way up the sidewalk and Gavin pointed out businesses and places of interest. Like I’d told Ginny, there were two of most things. Some were near each other, like the two diners. Others had streets or blocks separating them, like the two beauty salons. There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it. No dividing line that kept the two sides of the feud separate. Just places some people frequented, or didn’t frequent, according to their loyalty.
Gavin seemed to know just about everybody. He charmed his way through town with his easygoing smile. Waved to people across the street. Said hello to those who were close enough. We stopped for a moment so Doris Tilburn—a woman who looked to be in her sixties and owner of the Angel Cakes Bakery—could sign his cast.
A group of squirrels scattered outside Happy Paws, the pet supply store, when we approached. Gavin peeked in and waved to someone inside.
“You really do know everyone, don’t you?” I asked.
“More or less.” He jerked forward as