Page 65 of Recipe for Rivals

“Forty dollars per dozen,” I said, feeling a little like I was overpricing, but also they took so much time to decorate. Days of layers to get the right detail.

“Done. Two dozen then? For Saturday morning. I’d love to have you stay, too.”

“That’s not necessary.” There was nothing worse than a pity invite.

“No, I mean it. It’s a great way to meet more people in town. You don’t have to bring anything—except the cookies, of course.”

“I don’t know.”

“Here. Give me your number, and I’ll text you the details.” She opened her phone and slid it across the counter.

I liked June. We hadn’t been around each other much, but she seemed down to earth. Part of me wanted to spite Carter and allow myself to fall fully under the small-town spell of Arcadia Creek, making friends and building a life that didn’t make me miss my home so much. The other part of me wanted to go home and let the kids play on their devices while I curled up in a ball and cried.

I put my number in her phone, took our bag of books, and ushered my kids outside.

“She’s nice,” Alice said when we left.

“I agree.” I pulled her to me while we crossed the street and made our way down to our apartment. Ben was reciting the Texas pledge he’d been learning in school as we went. When we reached our place, there was a large, heavy rectangular box leaning against the door. I tried to move it aside, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Guys, I think your bunk bed arrived.”

They hollered and cheered, but I groaned. We were blocked. At least the delivery guys had brought it up the stairs.

Five minutes and some sad attempts at shoving later, I gotthe bed to move enough for us to unlock the door and slip inside.

“Will you set it up now?” Alice asked.

Fresh on the heels of learning how fully and quickly Carter had moved on, I was determined to do this on my own. This wasn’t going to be like the jar of unopened jam sitting in my fridge—a sign of my defeat. I was going to be champion. I sucked in a breath and looked at the heavy box. “Yes. I’ve got this.”

Ben didn’t look convinced. We’d see who was right.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

NOVA

Ben.Ben and his misgivings were entirely correct, and I was wrong. Just like the picture at the front of the instruction pamphlet said—and the picture on the side of the enormous box, and my quiet instincts—this bunk bed was a two-person job. I’d figured out how to get all the many pieces into Ben and Alice’s room by opening the box where it was, leaning it against my door, and carrying in the planks of wood one at a time.

Stubborn? Me? No, the word wasresourceful.

Now I realized why all the pictures showed two people lifting things. To lift one bed frame onto the other and screw them into place, you needed a second person. I’d bought a very inexpensive bed, which meant it didn’t come apart and form two different beds, but I hadn’t thought it would matter. This way they’d have more floor space to play. It also meant asking someone to help lift and hold it in place while I screwed it together. My kids were too small, and I wasn’t about to ask Gigi.

Which left me with a glaring, obvious answer I didn’t want to use. Mostly because I’d already used him multiple times.

There was also Chad, I supposed, but it felt a little weird and personal asking him to come help me. We hadn’t reached thatlevel of friendship. If I was being entirely honest, I didn’t want to reach it with him either. Dusty, on the other hand, had already been in every room in my tiny home. He was intimately familiar with my failings as a mother, and he liked helping others.

I mean, the man was a firefighter.

My kids had gotten bored with this project and were snuggled on my bed watchingDespicable Meon my laptop. I slunk down to the floor and pulled out my phone to send Dusty a message. Instead of doing that, I opened Instagram for the fortieth time since this afternoon and navigated to Carter’s page, finding his stories. He hadn’t updated them, and the picture of him and the redhead had one hour left before it would expire.

I wasn’t ready to move on yet. I toggled over to Safari and asked Google if Carter would know if I screenshot his story. I’d never felt my thirty-one years more than I did in that moment. A few years ago, that was the type of thing I’d know offhand. Thankfully, I got the answer I was hoping for. I went back to Instagram and captured the image to live in my phone forever. Or at least for as long as it took to come to terms with this change in my life.

Would my kids have to be around this woman if they went to stay with Carter for any length of time over the summer? What kind of person was she? Did my friends—Trish, at least—know she’d moved in with Carter because of Instagram or from seeing them together around the city? Did he take her out every night? Did he make time for this woman the way he couldn’t make time to call his own children consistently?

My eyes went hot when tears spilled over the edges, but I’d cried enough tonight for him. I dashed them away angrily and groaned. Sucking in a cool, long breath, I let it out and focused on exhaling, closing my eyes and commanding myself to put it aside for now. It could be managed later.

Right now, I needed to get this bed put together so my kids would have somewhere to sleep that wasn’t littered with screws and spare pieces of wood and those weird round things cheap furniture came with. I typed out a message to Dusty, but my finger hovered over the send button. Once I did this, there would be no going back. Defeat edged into my body. I wanted to be enough for my kids on my own. I couldn’t finish the bed alone, though, so I swallowed my pride, shoved away my failure with tired arms, and sent the text.

Nova