CHAPTER 16
BLAIRE
A bell jingled as I pushed through the door, and though the air was thick with vanilla and caramelized sugar, it couldn’t mask the sudden hush that fell over the room.
I hugged the crate of strawberries closer, the rough edges digging into me, and forced myself forward through the weight of their stares.
It had been a long time since I lived in the small town of Willow Grove, but there was one thing I was sure would never change.
The people here were nosy.
Maggie’s bakery, Darlin’ Delights, was packed to the brim with familiar faces at every table.
I offered polite smiles as I headed toward the pie case, but it dropped the moment my gaze landed on Chelsey Leland.
She was a former barrel racing queen, one grade above me, and the girl who’d made my life a living hell sophomore year.
She’d made sure everyone in our school knew my “dirty secret” that I supposedly couldn’t decide between the Calloway brothers, and “brother fucker” followed me down the hallways for the rest of the year.
Chelsey was wrong though. My heart belonged to one brother, not two, and she was pissed that the boy I loved was the same one she wanted. The golden boy whose smile alone made every girl in Willow Grove stumble over their feet.
I wasn’t special in loving Colt, but he’d made it so easy.
Chelsey sat with her friends, her honey-blonde ponytail swinging as she laughed. The minute she spotted me, her smile twisted and she rose. She crossed the shop in seconds, nearly knocking over a toddler in her rush to reach me.
“I’ll be damned,” she purred, looking me over from head to toe. “If it isn’t Little Miss Strawberry herself.”
I set the crate of berries down, the wood scraping against the counter, and Chelsey slid closer.
“Hey, Chelsey,” I managed, jaw tight. My fingers curled around the edge of the crate. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” She sipped her iced coffee, her lips leaving a perfect red rim on her straw. The ice in her cup clinked as she swirled it around, her eyes never leaving mine. “Moved back after the divorce. Daddy needed help with the horses.”
She said “divorce” like it was a badge of honor.
“I heard you’re back at June’s.” She watched me carefully as she said it. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back here.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged and finally turned to fully face her. “It wasn’t exactly the plan.”
Chelsey’s eyes dragged over every inch of me, taking in my dirty jeans and the worn T-shirt that was almost too small.
“You know,” she said, dropping her voice. “I saw you on TV last year. The engagement party in Raleigh? My cousin’s wife works for a company there, and we were talking about how lucky you were to land that investor guy. What happened? Are you two still engaged?”
I swallowed hard against the memory of exactly what happened, those photos still on my computer just in case. “Grant and I called it off. It didn’t work out.”
Chelsey’s brows shot up and her eyes widened in what seemed to be actual shock. “I heard he was like a big deal. I can’t believe you gave that up,” she said, too loudly, so the whole shop could hear. “I guess that means you’re sticking around for a while then, or are you going back?”
“I’m helping June out on the farm right now.” I crossed my arms and scanned the space behind the counter. Where the hell was Maggie? My finger found the service bell on the counter, pressing it with more force than necessary. “We’re going to be selling her jams.”
“Jams?” Chelsey snorted out a laugh, and I bristled.
“And here I thought maybe you’d come home for Colt.
You know, now that he’s single and all.” Her voice dripped with mock concern.
“Or did you two already—?” She made a little gesture with her fingers that could have meant anything, but her eyes said everything.
I could feel my throat tighten, but I met her gaze, refusing to give her what she wanted. “You know what? You might be the only person in this town who cares more about my love life than I do, Chelsey.”
She grinned, head cocked to one side like a predator considering its prey.
“Oh, I don’t care at all.” Her eyes flicked from my dirty boots to my untamed hair, tallying each imperfection.
“Colt, on the other hand, he’s supposed to take me to that new place in Belmont this weekend, but I haven’t heard from him in a few days.
I assumed he was busy with the ranch, but?—”
My teeth clamped down on the inside of my cheek.
I imagined, for one vivid second, grabbing her ponytail and yanking until those perfect blonde strands came away in my fist. Chelsey knew nothing, not one damn thing, about me and Colt, yet here she stood with his name dripping from her lips like she owned it.
She didn't know I slept under his roof, or how his fingers had traced my neck in his hallway three nights ago, until I pushed him away and told him it wouldn’t happen again.
She also didn’t know that I’d learned to wait for the rumble of his engine each morning, hiding in my room until his tires crunched gravel.
It had become a daily ritual of self-denial that my racing pulse betrayed with every passing second.
But to my credit, it worked. We barely spoke whenever Ruby wasn’t involved.
“Are you two fucking?” She scrunched her nose as if the thought disgusted her, and I flinched at her question. “I’m not interested in him if?—”
“If what?” I asked as a possessive heat clawed at my throat.
“If he’s fucking me?” I studied her, watching her reaction to my words, and I knew I should stop but was unable to dam the flood of words.
“Even if he’s not fucking me now,” I stepped closer, lowering my voice like I was telling her a little secret just between us girls.
“I’ve had him in ways you can only imagine, Chelsey.
” I leaned back just enough to watch her eyes widen.
“There isn’t a single piece of Colt Calloway that doesn’t already know my touch. ”
Chelsey’s mouth hung open before snapping shut, her lips flattening into a thin red line. Her nostrils flared, and her practiced bitchy composure flickered off like a dying neon sign.
She flinched when the door behind the counter swung open, and I took a step back, not believing what I’d just said.
Maggie walked out from the back of the bakery, her hair leaking from its clip and a bit of flour on the side of her nose.
She wore a pink apron with cherries and Darlin’ Delights written across the front.
“Chelsey, girl,” Maggie said, wiping her hands down her apron. “Why don’t you let the woman breathe? It’s barely eight thirty in the morning, and you’re already on her ass about which men she’s going to take off your roster.”
Chelsey whirled in her direction, face pinched, but Maggie just stared her down with her hands on her hips.
“I was just welcoming her home,” Chelsey lied.
Maggie snorted before she reached for the crate of strawberries. She plucked one from the top, rolling it between her fingers with a nod of approval. “These are gorgeous, Blaire.”
I exhaled, tension melting from my shoulders now that Maggie was here. “Picked them this morning. I’ve got June’s Jams in the trunk too. You’re going to freak out when you see how cute the packaging is.”
Maggie’s eyes lit up as she took the crate.
“Perfect timing. I’ve got a special corner all ready for them, right next to the croissants.
” She winked at me before turning to Chelsey with a honeyed smile.
“Some things just belong together, don’t they?
” Her gaze flicked meaningfully to me and then to the door. “Always have.”
I turned at the sound of the bell and watched as Colt sauntered into the bakery.
“Mornin’, Colt,” someone called from across the bakery, and I saw Chelsey stiffen at the same moment my own body betrayed me with a jolt of awareness.
He must have come straight from the school drop-off because I’d timed my escape this morning precisely to avoid this, slipping out while his truck was still idling in the driveway.
Colt’s cowboy hat was pulled low, but there was no hiding the sharp angle of his jaw or the shape of his mouth I’d memorized years ago. And that mustache, God, that mustache should be illegal.
My heart hammered against my ribs before my brain could remind it to behave. All around us, people called out good morning to him as chairs scraped against the floor, and half a dozen men rose to their feet to shake his hand.
The Willow Grove golden boy through and through.
He fit this place so well, and I wasn’t sure where I belonged anymore.
His white T-shirt stretched across his shoulders that had grown broader with the years of ranch work, and he wore faded jeans tight against his thighs. One thumb hooked casually in his pocket as he laughed at whatever Mr. Chambers from the feed store was saying.
He scanned the room, not lingering on anyone for long, until it caught on me.
His entire demeanor shifted. The casual air evaporated as his eyes traveled from my face down to my boots, lingering in places that made heat bloom beneath each spot his eyes touched.
One corner of his mouth lifted as he murmured something to Mr. Chambers, eyes never leaving me.
Then he pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair before he headed in our direction, closing the distance between us with each step.
He came right up to the counter, not even glancing at Chelsey as he nodded to Maggie.
“Morning, Mags.” His voice was softer than I expected, almost warm, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at me like I was a problem he was trying to solve.
“Morning, Colt.” Maggie pulled open the cash register, the drawer’s bell dinging as she slid bills back and forth. “You picking up something for Ruby again or is this a grown-up errand?”