Chapter 14: The Bet's Author

Anneliese's POV

Lacey's text came at four, while I was boxing a dozen lemon scones.

Ask Dane whose idea your little bet was. Ask Rory what they both knew on Monday. xo L

It had no hearts and no emoji, and that was how I knew it was true.

I finished the order and clocked out.

The Herons had won, I could tell by the horns going off on every street between the bakery and Alder Street.

I kept checking the text at every corner.

Dane was at the kitchen table in a clean shirt, with a bag of ice held against his shoulder.

Rory stood against the counter with his cap in his hands.

They had both been waiting for me, and neither of them looked surprised.

"Lacey says to ask whose idea the bet was," I said.

Nobody answered.

"Mine," Rory said, too fast. "I wrote the napkin."

"Rory," Dane said.

"Don't."

Dane put the ice down and stood up.

"It was mine," he said. "I asked Rory to start it."

I held on to the back of a chair.

"Why?" I said.

"I'll tell you why," Dane said. "Not tonight. You would hear it as another line."

"So you made a bet on me."

He said it plainly, with no apology in it, and somehow that made it worse.

"The tailgate," I said. "You pulled the cord before page two. How did you know it was coming?"

Dane looked at his brother.

Rory looked at the floor.

"I heard her plan it on Monday," Dane said.

The kitchen clock ticked over the stove.

"Monday," I said.

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