He narrowed his eyes. “No catch?”
Now she smiled. “Not yet. Come on, Salazar. A big, handsome firefighter like you can handle a little snark and sass, can’t you? Consider it an added challenge of the job.”
His grin widened. “Handsome, huh?”
Frankie’s face went hot. “Figures that’s what you’d pick up on. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, thankfully, I do. Okay.” He held out his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted and they shook on their deal. “Now that we’ve got that settled, tell me something.”
“What?”
“What on earth is a Cocoon Club?”
CHAPTER SIX
GETTING AN APPOINTMENT with the mayor should not have been difficult, especially since Gil Hamilton was already aware Roman had arrived in Butterfly Harbor. When Friday afternoon’s visit to both the town hall and the mayor’s temporary office proved fruitless, Roman decided to continue the direct approach and hunt the mayor down on Saturday.
The sooner he got Jasper’s situation settled, the easier the coming initial weeks with Frankie—and subsequently Butterfly Harbor—would be.
Ferreting out that the mayor planned to drop by the butterfly sanctuary construction site sometime before noon today felt like a real accomplishment. That he’d be passing by Duskywing Farm on the way meant he could mark off some of his shopping, as well.
After only a few days in town, he was already enjoying the fact he could walk most anyplace he needed to go. Reminding him of his time in Boston, when a car was a superfluous expense and the added exercise kept his fitness tracker happy.
Butterfly Harbor was the perfect spot for an early-morning walk, well before any of the stores were open. The scents of bacon and fresh-baked bread wafted from the continuously opening and closing door of the Butterfly Diner, but he decided to forgo his morning meal there, and, protein bar in hand, headed up the hill.
The first place he came to, though, was Duskywing Farm.
He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect—a farm in the middle of a town? But given the collection of cars in the makeshift lot and the sound of enthusiastic, excited voices in the distance, it seemed the farm was about to fulfill the promise he’d been given: a unique, inviting experience.
The crisscrossed wooden fence gave way to a gate, guarded by a sleek gray cat. He’d no sooner reached out a hand to the animal than a little girl of about ten raced over, a jangle of bells wrapped around each ankle, her feet bare in the thick grass. Red curls curtained her fresh, freckled face and eyes as bright as amethysts glinted up at him. “Hello.”
“Hi,” he said. “She’s beautiful.” After receiving an approved head bump against his hand, he stroked two fingers down the cat’s back.
“She knows.” The girl laughed. “Her name’s Ophelia. Would you like to come in? We’re having a special today on honey. Calliope says if I sell all my jars I can start helping her tend the hives. Would you like a jar? Or two?”
“Quite the saleswoman, aren’t you?” Roman said. “Tending beehives is something you want to do?”
“Well.” The girl scrunched her nose. “Don’t tell her, but I’ve already been visiting them. Do you know bees talk? Not with words, but their buzzing changes depending on the time of day or if they’re stressed. If you listen, you can hear it.”
“I did not know that.”
“Stella, you have customers!”
Roman blinked at the nearly identical but fully-grown woman who strode over, equally stunning, equally barefoot.
“I do?” Stella jumped and almost collided with the fencepost. “Oh! I have to go. If I have any jars left, I’ll sell them to you. ’Bye!”
“Well, that’s the best welcome I’ve ever had.” Roman realized he was still petting the cat and pulled his hand away. The woman smiled at him and, after lifting the latch, pulled open the gate.
“Please, come in, Chief Salazar.”
“Roman, please. I’m not sure I have time.” Roman glanced up the road. “I was hoping to catch the mayor at the construction site—” Unable to resist the open expression on her face, he did as she asked and stepped through the gate.
“Actually, my husband, Xander, and the mayor are meeting today. I’ll introduce you and you can go up with him. Come.”
“Thanks.” Swallowing some embarrassment, he said, “I confess I should know your name. I’m sure Frankie mentioned it—”
“Calliope. And the honey huckster is my sister, Stella. Welcome.” She led him down a peat gravel path that twisted and wound toward a stone cottage with a bright red door that was standing open. “Xander?” She disappeared inside as Roman was still looking around.