Chapter 30

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This was easy.

Simon couldn't believe how easy and natural it was to just be with Mary. He expected to feel nervous, anxious, or even scared. Afraid he might make a mistake and drive her away. But he didn't feel any of those things. A calm surety stayed with him all morning from the moment he woke up and found her in his bed. That confidence made him brave. So brave, he'd kissed Mary in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

And she'd kissed him back.

"Cash or credit?" The gas station employee, Hank, according to the blue and white name tag pinned to the man's shirt, didn't look up from the screen of the phone in his hand. The tinny sound of a crowd cheering squeaked out of the device, and Hank tossed it on the counter, grunting in disgust.

"How bad is it?"

"Damned pitcher just gave away a home run. Bases loaded."

Simon shook his head in conciliation to the other man's loss. "What's the score?"

"Eight to two. Now."

With a whistle for effect, Simon gave the appropriate response. "That's bad." He preferred hockey to baseball where the score was earned goal by goal, but even he knew this was a decent lead and would be hard to come back from.

"There goes their shot at the finals." Hank ran his fingers through his greying hair.

"Sorry man. That sucks."

"I'm supposed to be there. Had tickets to the game." He shook his head. "Cash or credit?"

"Credit." Simon pulled out his wallet. Clara's business card fell onto the counter, and his thoughts turned to the idea of spending a night at her inn with Mary. Another dinner. Another bed. Another breakfast. A warmth spread through his chest. "Say, can you recommend someplace to eat?"

Hank looked at the clock on the wall. "Bit late but Judy's Place might still be serving her pulled pork on a bun. Best in the county."

"Judy's Place. Sounds perfect. Where can I find it?"

Hank pointed out the window. "Back the way you came, if you came from the interstate. Middle of town. Can't miss the red and white sign."

"Thanks." Simon's pocket vibrated, and he pulled out his phone to see Tim's face filling the screen.

"Boss. When are you coming back?"

Simon's eyes flickered to the large glass window through which he could see Mary as she sat in his truck, her head down. He didn't know what would happen when they returned to the lake house, but he wanted the option to stick around and find out. Not just drop her off. Would Mary invite him in? What would Finn think of seeing him with Mary?

"How bad is it?" Same question he asked Hank.

"Gisele called in sick, we're out of pickles and Rain tried to set himself on fire." Simon opened his mouth in alarm, but Tim cut him off. "Don't worry, he's barely singe. The kitchen's fine. A tad smokey, but fine. It'll be good for the ribs."

"Are you sure he's okay?" Simon handed his credit card over the Hank.

"Promise."

"Okay. Send him over to Stephenson's' Grocery to buy whatever pickles they have and see when the next shipment from Carol's is due. Then call Anabelle. She might be able to pick up a shift. If not, text me and I'll see what I can do."

"Got it."

"Anything else?"

"Um... one more thing." Here it came. Tim was capable of handling all of this without him. Simon knew there had to be another reason for the call. "That guy from the development company was in here again."

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