Asher’s other brothers had been pretty cool to talk to, and the chance to meet more of his family sounded fun. I glanced up at Evan, but his expression gave nothing away.
Then again, maybe it did. He wasn’t scowling. That was probably an affirmative.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind,” I said.
“Not at all,” Grace said.
Cara twisted around in her seat, as if to get a better view of me, and tapped her lips with a finger. “Definitely not a mail-order bride.”
“What?” I asked.
“Could have been a hitchhiker, but that’s not the vibe I’m getting either,” Cara continued, scrutinizing me. “Lost in the woods never made any sense. I’d put my money on friend from college, even though that’s boring, but I’m not ruling out live-in dog sitter.”
I glanced at Evan as we took our seats, but he just shrugged, like he didn’t know what she was talking about either.
“Did you really expect any of the rumors to be true?” Grace asked.
“You never know,” Cara said. “Sometimes they’re close.”
“Rumors?” I asked.
“Sorry,” Grace said. “People around here like to tell stories.”
“And by that she means the entire town is full of professional gossips,” Cara said. “Once you get used to it, it’s actually quite entertaining.”
“People think I’m Evan’s mail-order bride?” I asked.
Evan groaned.
“I agree, too cliché,” Cara said. “So what is your story?”
“Maybe let her get a drink first,” Grace said.
“That’s okay,” I said. “The short version is that I made a crazy plan to escape a crappy family-slash-job situation, but things didn’t quite go as planned. So here I am.”
Cara’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s much more interesting than the rumors. What was so crappy that made crashing at the nightmare cabin with the broodiest Bailey a better option?”
I laughed. “It’s not so bad. I worked for my father, which wasn’t that great of a job in the first place, but he kind of made it hard to leave. Dad used to be into stuff that was… not legal. He almost got caught once and he promised he’d stay legit after that. But I found out he’s been working with this creepy guy from his crime days again.”
“That’s not good,” Grace said.
“No, it’s really not good. And then I found out he was sleeping with my best friend.”
“Wait,” Cara said, holding up a hand. She put down her drink. “Your dad was banging your bestie?”
I scrunched my nose. “Yes. I even heard… never mind. It’s gross.”
Her mouth hung open like she couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“Do you want to know what’s really messed up?” I didn’t know why I kept talking. I’d just met these people, but I couldn’t seem to stop. “Neither of them seemed to think there was anything wrong with it. I guess they’re both adults, but still. He’s known her since she was little and he was friends with her dad. And it’s not just that they were sleeping together; they’d been lying to me about it for months. She let me believe she was hooking up with her asshole ex because it made good cover.”
“What’s her name?” Cara asked, her voice monotone.
Grace reached across the table and put a hand over Cara’s. “Easy, honey.”
“Tell me who she is so I can burn down her fucking life.”
I blinked at Cara in alarm. “That’s okay, I don’t need anyone to burn down her life.”
“Simone something,” Evan said, his voice casual. “I don’t know her last name, but she works for Gallagher Auto. That should be enough to find her.”
Cara gave Evan a smile tinged with malevolence. “Oh, I’ll find her.”
“Do I need to be concerned about this?”
Evan shrugged. “Probably.”
“No,” Grace said. “Because Cara’s not going to do anything.”
“Yes, I am.”
Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. “I don’t actually want anything terrible to happen to her.”
“Oh my god, Grace, she’s so nice, it’s adorable,” Cara said. “Can’t I ruin someone’s life for her?”
“Maybe we should invite her to Stitch and Sip instead.”
Cara took a sip of her drink. “Fine. We can gently fold her into Tilikum life with the Stitch and Bitch ladies. That’s not nearly as fun, but maybe it’s the healthier option.”
“I think so,” Grace said with a smile. “Stitch and Sip is our weekly crochet and knitting group. The sip part used to mean tea until our resident bartender joined.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I don’t know how to knit or crochet.”
“That’s okay,” Grace said. “Neither does Cara.”
“I beg to differ, my vibrant tropical fish. You taught me how to crochet.”
Grace tilted her head