“Tricia Pemberley and Scott Hauser got engaged last night.”
“I heard,” Quinn told her. “Tricia came by the abbey this morning.”
Ms. Eun rolled her eyes. “Well, of course she did. She’s always been bothered that you two dated.”
Quinn let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t see why. It was barely a blip on the radar.”
“Maybe not to you, but it was to him. You’ll always be the girl who got away.” Ms. Eun wasn’t done. “And some people think you might still be harboring a secret crush of your own because you haven’t been seen with anyone since being back in town.”
“You can’t be serious.” Quinn stared, pausing mid-sip. “I’ve only been back a couple of months. Who works that fast?”
“Good point, but no one could fault you if you had your eye on someone. Anyone in particular?”
And there it was … Quinn had walked right into that trap. Rookie move.
“Not these days, no.” She took another sip of her seltzer. “And for the record, I’m good with that.”
The little bells over the door rang.
Ms. Eun appeared unconvinced. “Really? Because there are some really nice boys at my church that I am more than happy to set you up with, especially since you’re—”
“Leave her alone.” Daria walked in and parked herself at the counter. Now she looked more like the cousin Quinn had grown up with, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a worn Young Life T-shirt. “Trust me, Quinn. I’ve seen the boys at her church. You aren’t missing a thing.”
Ms. Eun gave her the stink eye. “Hey, just because they’re not Anglican doesn’t mean the boys at my church aren’t good enough for Quinn.”
“Hey, I’m not saying they’re not good enough because they’re Presbyterians,” Daria said. “I’m saying they’re not good enough because they’re boys. In case y’all haven’t noticed, Quinn is all grown up now. She needs a man.”
Greg called out from behind the grill. “Eunnie, you gonna find out what the girls want, or you gonna keep yapping about boys like you’re at a sleepover?”
“All right, all right … I’m getting to it.” She leaned a slender hip against the counter, taking a pencil out of her pixie-cut black hair. “What’ll it be?”
Her cousin didn’t need to see the menu. “I’ll have the Gooey Grilled Cheese and a ginger ale.”
The tiny bells above the door rang again.
Ms. Eun wet the tip of her pencil on the tip of her tongue. “And you?”
Quinn handed back the menu. “I’ll have the Shredded Herbed Chick Omelet.”
Ms. Eun nodded, jotting her order down. “Side of almost-burnt home fries?”
Quinn smiled. They knew she adored the crispy potato edges. “Always.”
Someone spoke behind her. “You know, Mom still considers that her chicken recipe. If she catches you eating any version of her creation outside the house, she’ll go nuts and burn a bunch of sage in your old bedroom to cleanse your chakras or something.”
She knew that voice.
Quinn spun her stool around. “Only our mother throws parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme onto a chicken and proclaims Simon and Garfunkel taught her to cook.” She jumped into her older brother’s arms. “I can’t believe you’re back!”
There he was, her handsome, brilliant, and irreverent brother—Sebastian “Bash” Caine. She hadn’t seen him since her welcome-home party.
“Of course I am. Where else would I be?” Bash gave her a long squeeze before smiling at their cousin. “Hey, dork.”
Sister Daria laughed. “Hey, stink face.” She gave him a tight hug. “Look at you! Still in one piece.”
“So far, so good. Must be all those extra candles you’re lighting for me.”
Her cousin scoffed through a laugh. “The Catholics do that, not us, genius.”
“Then do that thing where you toss my sins on bread crumbs into the river instead.”
Daria’s eyes darted between Bash and Quinn. “Is he trying to be annoying? Because I know you know that’s the Jewish atonement tradition of tashlikh.”
Bash knew exactly how to push people’s buttons. It was a miracle he was as well liked as he was. “It used to be harder to rile you up,” Bash said. “You’re getting soft-headed in your old age, cousin.”
Greg opened one of the ovens and retrieved a succulent roast chicken. “By the way, Adele Caine is a kick in the pants, but for the last time, this is not her recipe.”
“It’s not yours either, Mr. Hutton,” Daria piped in. “It’s from a song.”
Quinn ignored the religion and chicken debates. “I thought you weren’t coming back for another week or two.”
Bash shrugged. “That was the plan, but rainstorms rolled in. So, I was able to get back earlier than expected.”
Just then, her cousin received a text and frowned.
“Everything okay?” Quinn asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine, but I’ve got to head back.” Her eyes darted from her phone to the Huttons. “Can I get that to go?” Her expression said everything was definitely not fine.
“Sure thing, Sister D.” Mr. Hutton placed a grill press onto her cheese sandwich. The husband and wife team worked lightning fast, getting everything together.
Ms. Eun brought her the food in a bag, along with a ginger ale that had a paper straw already in place. Her cousin handed over payment, but Ms. Eun brushed it away. “Your money’s no good here, honey.”
Daria’s expression softened. “Thanks, Mrs. Hutton.”
Ms. Eun gave Daria a hug. “Try and stay out of trouble now.”
Her cousin’s brows went up. “Me? I never get into trouble.”
That comment earned Quinn’s “you don’t fool me” gaze. “You mean you learned how not to get caught anymore.”
Bash chimed in. “She’s right, you know.”
Daria grumbled while grabbing her bagged lunch. “Oh, hush already.”
“Bye, Sister! Be careful!” Ms. Eun called out, waving.
Quinn watched her cousin walk out the door and hurry down the street. She’d have to call her later and find out what was up.
Meanwhile, her brother combed his fingers through his sandy-brown hair as he twisted side to side on his stool.
“Hey, Bash. Taking a break from saving the world?”
He gave Ms. Eun a playful wink. “Something like that. How’s my girl doing?”
And sure enough, that’s all it took to make a grown woman blush. “Don’t give an old woman hope. Now what can I get ya?”
It didn’t matter that Eun Hutton was twice his age and happily married. Bash was a natural flirt, a particular gift he shared—often. Everyone knew he was just playing.
He grabbed the menu off the counter, giving it a compulsory glance, although Quinn didn’t know why: Bash had been ordering the same thing since he was a kid. In fact, he loved their burger so much, Ms. Eun had it named after him.
“I’ll have my usual. Make sure that boyfriend of yours makes the fries extra crispy.”