Chapter 8
Juliette
I was ready to scream again when I saw him—standing by the window, staring at me. He was the town’s sheriff. Of course he was. Just my rotten luck.
My fingers itched, but I resisted the urge to childishly flip him off. Instead, I glared. He smiled like we were sharing some private joke and gave me a small finger wave.
I started the engine of my trusty little Beetle. She was dying, but I couldn’t part with her. Not until the bitter end. She was my first car, and a girl had to have some loyalty.
It wasn’t until I got home that I realised I still didn’t know Mercer’s name. Grammy hadn’t mentioned it.
I shoved my bag onto the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room and opened my laptop.
Know thy enemy.
?? ?? ??
Several hours later, I was slurping noodles while studying my notepad like it held the secrets of the universe.
Kade Mercer, thirty-four years old.
Firstborn of Kenneth and Lucy Mercer. One younger brother—Caleb.
One niece—Grace, age five. She is a cute little angel and is in Cathryn’s class. I could see the Mercer genes in her.
Head of the Mercer household? Queen Grammy Mercer herself.
She might just be the key to my survival.
I plucked a piece of soft beef and crisp bok choy between my chopsticks and savoured the bite, eyes flicking back to my screen.
Photos from last year’s Harvest Festival.
Grammy, grinning beside her prize-winning pie—again.
But it was him I kept seeing.
Kade—everywhere. With kids, with the elderly, laughing, scolding, human.
So how the hell had I brought out the animal in him?
I stabbed my chopsticks into my bowl with a groan.
Of course, he had to look that good in uniform. Full head of thick brown hair, those stupidly intense blue eyes… and I knew exactly what he was packing beneath those pants.
Are you going to run away again?
His voice echoed in my head.
I didn’t have the energy to pack up and run again, not this time.
Yes, I might be pregnant—but what exactly did he want from me?
?? ?? ??
The week went by with no incidents of stalking.
That should’ve been reassuring.
It wasn’t.
I peeked into Cathryn’s classroom and spotted her tidying up her book corner. I knocked gently before stepping in.
“Hey. What a week,” she groaned. “I need to let loose tonight.”
“Mmm. That doesn’t sound half bad,” I said, mulling it over. I deserved some fun.
“YAS!” she shouted, practically vibrating. “Rick’s Bar, tonight. Eight p.m. Dress sexy—and I mean for me, not the men. Sam’ll drop you off.”
“It’s just drinks. Calm down,” I laughed.
“Just go. And no cardigans tonight. I swear to God.”
I flipped her off on the way out. “See you later.”
It wasn’t until I got to the car park that I realised—I probably couldn’t drink. Just in case.
I still had at least a week before I could confirm I wasn’t carrying Satan’s child.
Great.
I couldn’t cancel on Cathryn. She’d kill me. A bullshit excuse about antibiotics or stomach issues would have to do.
He was ruining my life and he wasn’t even in it.
?? ?? ??
“You’re not drinking?” Cathryn echoed, staring at me like I’d just murdered her cat.
“I’m on antibiotics,” I said, doing my best impression of solemn regret.
Her eyes narrowed. “For what?”
God, she really didn’t let up.
“An abscess. Do you want to see it?” I asked, opening my mouth and leaning in.
“Ew—no!” she squealed, planting her palm against my face and shoving me back. “Fine. I’ll drink alone. But it won’t be as fun. I wanted to see what kind of drunk you are. I had money on horny.”
“I’m saying nothing,” I said with a grin.
When we walked into the bar, most people turned to stare.
It made me want to tug at the neckline of my dress, even though it wasn’t indecent.
“Why are they staring at us?” I whispered to Cathryn.
“It’s you, not me,” she replied. “You’re fresh meat—new in town.”
I groaned as we reached the bar.
“Hello, Juliette,” Rick said, flashing a smile. “You look ravishing this evening.”
“And what am I?” Cathryn piped up. “Chopped liver?”
I hid my smile.
“You’re both ravishing,” Rick said smoothly, “but only one of you is single.”
He winked at me.
“Give it a rest, Rick. I’m surprised you’re not riddled with STIs,” Cathryn shot back.
I choked on laughter as Rick glared at her.
We ordered our drinks and found a booth with decent lighting and surprisingly comfortable seats.
As the evening went on, Cathryn pointed out most of the people in the bar and told me their life stories—sometimes more than one generation’s worth.
“So, what’s the sheriff like?” I asked casually, sipping my drink. “His Grammy came around a few times.”
“Kade?” She tilted her head, thinking. “Hmm. Tragic, really. He’d been with his fiancée since high school. She dumped him to go live her best life in the city. Didn’t help that everyone knew about it. He’s been kinda grouchy ever since.”
I nodded, trying to play it cool while my brain caught fire.
Of course.
That’s why he made that jab about me running away.
“I’m surprised Grace didn’t try to hook you up with him,” Cathryn added with a smirk.
I let out a nervous laugh. “I think she did.”
“Oh?” Her eyes lit up like I’d just fed her pure gossip fuel. “Tell me more.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nothing happened. He’s ten years older than me.”
“A bit of experience isn’t a bad thing,” she said with a grin. “Sam was a reformed whore—so trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
I was about to reply when a shadow fell over our booth.
My heart kicked up a notch.
But when I looked up, it wasn’t Kade.
It was the guy from the hardware store—tall, friendly, flannel-shirted, and clearly working up the nerve to approach.
“Hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Juliette, right?”
I nodded, offering a polite smile.
“I thought so. I, uh… saw you come in earlier. Can I buy you a drink?”
Before I could answer, Cathryn leaned her elbow on the table and gave him a knowing look. “She’s on antibiotics.”
He blinked.
“It’s a long story,” I said quickly, embarrassed. “But thank you. That’s kind of you.”
He nodded, a little deflated—but not discouraged. “No worries. Maybe… a dance instead?”
I hesitated. Not because he wasn’t nice. He was.
“Go,” Cathryn whispered, nudging my knee under the table. “You need a win. Just one dance.”
The guy held out his hand, hopeful but not pushy.
I exhaled slowly, setting my drink down. “Okay. One dance.”
His face lit up as I slipped from the booth and took his hand, letting him lead me toward the dance floor.
Behind me, Cathryn raised her glass and mouthed, You’re welcome.