My Beautiful Neighbor (The Greene Family Book 1) by Piper Rayne (phonics reading books TXT) 📕

“I don’t see the problem with a question like ‘are you into sewing?’ I mean, what do we know about Clara, other than she wants to nail Xavier?”

I scrunch my eyebrows. “They’re best friends. Platonic best friends.”

He laughs. “You’re insane if you really think that. She knows his stats better than he does. She makes you organize those nights at the brewery for him every time he plays. She paints his number on both of her cheeks. She wants him.”

“I don’t know. I never got that impression that she liked him in that way.”

Jed shakes his head, pulling into the back lot of the brewery. “This is why you need to get out there.”

I climb out of his truck, shedding my suit jacket immediately. It’s early spring, so it’s still a bit chilly, but I’d rather deal with the cold than the confines of wearing a suit. “Out where?”

“Out in the dating world.”

Unlike Jed, I rarely go outside of Sunrise Bay. When we graduated from college and got the loan to start the brewery, I put everything I had into it, wanting it to be a success. I had girlfriends in college, but I always knew I was coming back here to my hometown of Sunrise Bay, Alaska. I didn’t want to live anywhere else, and not every woman wants to live in a small town this far north. That’s not to say I’m celibate either, but my family doesn’t need to know all my business, even though they think they do.

We walk into the brewery, flipping on the lights. I head to the front door, unlock it, and put out the chalkboard sign that states we’re closed for a private party. Mrs. Harrison’s sewing store is next door, dark and abandoned. I’m not sure the last time it was open. When Mrs. Harrison was first diagnosed, Clara tried to keep up the store in the hopes that her mom would beat the disease and could come back to it. But unfortunately, she didn’t so now it sits in the middle of our main square, looking like it went out of business.

I walk over and fix the awning that flipped up from the wind last night, but there’s no hiding the fading and ripped navy material. Our wonderful mayor, Sam Klein, put in a mandate for all the businesses in the square to have matching awnings to make us look uniform. One of his many annoying mandates.

Our square portion of downtown is pedestrian-friendly. It’s literally a square with all the parking at the backs of the buildings. Cobblestone streets separate the shops from one side to the other, and during tourist season, white string lights are hung from one side of the road to the other. During the holiday season, it’s colored lights paired with long strips of garland. Sunrise Bay is as charming as any town I’ve ever seen, and I’m lucky to call it home.

On my way back into the brewery, my eyes catch sight of a blonde sitting on the park bench in the open area next to The Grind. She’s dressed in funeral attire—black pants and black heels. I can’t see her shirt since her black coat is covering it. She must be a guest, maybe waiting for others to arrive. There’s something familiar about her, though I can’t place her. Maybe if she’d look up from her phone, I’d stand a better chance.

“That’s her,” Nikki says, and I glance over my shoulder to see my stepsisters Nikki and Mandi stopped right outside of the brewery. “Who is she?”

Mandi shrugs. “She was at the funeral.”

I walk over to them. “Is that why she looks familiar? Is she from around here?”

Because Sunrise Bay is small, if you don’t know the person, you at least recognize them. Since we’re not in the middle of tourist season, seeing outsiders is unusual—unless they’re from a neighboring town like Lake Starlight. But if she was at the funeral, that would mean she knows the Harrisons.

“Maybe she was a customer,” I offer.

Nikki scoffs, but that’s Nikki. She’s always looking for a more clandestine angle. “No way. You’re telling me that girl sews?”

“What?” I ask. I mean, my little sister, Chevelle, went through that phase when she tried to make her own clothes after she heard how manufactured fabric could be toxic. “Why not?”

“Look at her clothes. Her nails? Her hair? It’s all done to perfection. I’d bet money she’s not a customer, which means it’s something else…” Nikki taps her lips with her own perfectly manicured nails. Takes one to know one, I suppose.

“Try not to make your story too far from the truth,” I say, walking into the brewery.

“Hey,” she says, following me, “I always tell the truth in my segments.”

“Sure you do.” I grab a tray of wings from one of our servers to arrange it on the tables we pushed together along the back wall for a buffet-style pick-and-go.

“I take that as an insult,” she says as she walks away.

As if small town gossip isn’t enough, my stepsister has decided to fill everyone in on the buzz during her morning radio show. You know, just in case someone happened to miss it.

A few more people are in here now, all shedding their coats as they find a table. We’ve set our two most popular beers in the middle of each with glasses to share.

Xavier walks Clara in. She’s holding up surprisingly well. Coming from such a big family, I can’t imagine being the last family member alive. Her dad died in a fishing accident that killed five men six years ago, her grandma died thirteen years ago, and now her mom. Since she’s an only child, she doesn’t have anyone else.

But I’m not too worried about her. As Xavier goes to fix her a plate, my stepmom, Marla, grabs Clara’s hands and squeezes, leading her to a table. The Greenes will pick her up as one of our own.

For some reason, my gaze