Chapter 14
brAM
Ithought Josie would be more excited about a trip into town, especially one that involves spending lots of money, considering how much she and Gray used to love shopping when they were younger.
But she spends the whole ride to town sulking in the backseat beside me, as if going into town is the worst possible fate she could imagine.
From the front passenger seat, Gray keeps up a running commentary about the people in town, though it doesn’t escape my notice she leaves out Sheriff Donnelly.
The sheriff has been something of a thorn in our collective sides ever since we moved to Forbidden Pines, but nobody clashes with her quite like Grayson.
We’re still not sure if they want to kill each other or fuck each other. And we’re not sure they know, either.
Eli parks the giant SUV in front of an old brick building, and I watch as Josie’s eyes light up.
“A bookstore!”
That’s the girl I remember. Chuckling, I give one of her ponytails—the ones she argued vehemently against keeping in for her trip to town—a tug. “I know what my baby likes.”
To my delight, she doesn’t immediately shut down at being referred to as my baby, but rather sticks her tongue out at me. “Don’t go getting a big head about it. Once a bookworm, always a bookworm.”
“Fair enough, my little worm.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Ewww, bug is bad enough, don’t call me a worm!”
Our easy banter continues as I help her out of the SUV and lead her into the bookstore, making sure to keep a firm grip on her hand the whole way. It’s been a while since our last snow, so the streets and sidewalks are pretty clear, but you never know when a patch of ice might sneak up on you.
Inside, however, I let her roam, watching silently as she lovingly runs her fingers over the spines in front of her. The bookstore itself is rather eclectic, with a mix of old classics people have brought in to be sold and the newest and hottest books on the market.
It is, to my surprise, the latter section that draws her attention. A bright smile blooms over her face as she pulls a book free, tracing her fingertips over the dark, twisty design on the front.
But before I can see what book she’s chosen, a familiar voice meets my ears. “Hello, Bram.”
Stifling a groan, I plaster on the most welcoming smile I can manage and turn to face Sheriff Reese Donnelly. “Sheriff. Good to see you again.”
At my response, Josie’s head snaps up, her gaze locking on Reese. “Sheriff?”
Reese gives a noncommittal hum, her gaze shifting from me to Josie, and it’s all I can do not to throw myself between them.
But if I do that, I’ll just be confirming the suspicion I can see in the sheriff’s pale-green eyes, so I force myself to stay put.
“Hello, there.” Reese holds out a hand for Josie to shake. “I’m Sheriff Donnelly. And you are…?”
Fucking hell. Where’s Gray when I need a distraction?
Because I absolutely need a fucking distraction right now.
Anything to pull the sheriff’s attention from my babygirl, especially when I can see the wheels turning in Josie’s mind, despite my warnings back at the cabin.
Perhaps she thinks we won’t go after the sheriff.
Perhaps she thinks she’s safe, out here in the open.
Whatever her thoughts, my gut says I need to get her away from Sheriff Donnelly.
Now.
But before I can figure out a plan of attack, an excited squeal splits the air, making us all jump and spin around to see where the sound came from.
“Oh my god. You’re Marjorie Kincaid!”
Josie
Panic seizes me, freezing me in place as my gaze darts between the three people surrounding me. Daddy is looking at me with his mouth slightly open in shock, while the sheriff is watching me with the wariness one might regard a dangerous predator.
Ironic, considering who she’s standing next to.
Then there’s the woman in front of me, her riot of red curls somewhat wrestled into submission by the twin braids running down either side of her head. Freckles explode rather than dust across her nose and cheeks, adding to the rather adorable picture she makes.
She’s a much less intimidating figure than the sheriff, with her dark hair in a high, tight ponytail and her pale-green eyes that seem to see straight through me, so I focus my attention on the bookseller and fix a bright smile on my face. “I am, yes.”
Grabbing my hands, the pretty redhead bounces excitedly in place. “I’m such a huge fucking fan, you have no idea.”
“Watch your language, Persephone,” Sheriff Donnelly snaps, pinning the pretty bookseller with a hard stare.
Persephone just rolls her eyes. “It’s my bookstore, Sheriff. I can use whatever language I want. And besides, I think a few naughty words are called for when my favorite author walks through my door.”
I can’t help but grin at her cheekiness. “That’s a lovely compliment, Persephone, thank you.”
Wrinkling her nose, she makes an annoyed scoffing sort of sound. “Poppy, please. Only the sheriff and my dad call me Persephone, and my dad only calls me that when he’s annoyed. Which is to say he calls me that a lot,” she adds with a grin. “But everyone else calls me Poppy.”
“Poppy, then.” I hold up the book I grabbed from the shelf. “Would you like me to sign this for you?”
It’s a genuine offer, as I’m always happy to do something nice for a fan.
But I’m also hopeful I can get Poppy somewhere private, away from the prying eyes of my Daddy and his siblings.
Even better if the sheriff insists on following us.
I don’t dare tell them what’s going on right here in the open, but if we could get just a few seconds of privacy…
Before Poppy can answer, however, the bells on the front door ring and Gray comes striding into the bookstore, her usual cocky half-smile on her face. That smile tightens considerably when she spots the sheriff, and I swear I can feel the electricity crackling between them.
Fuck my life.
“Sheriff. I see you’ve met our new friend.” Moving as if there’s nothing amiss at all, Gray crosses the shop to sling an arm around my shoulder. “Bram ran into Josie here in town the other day and they hit it off, so we told her we’d show her around if she wanted.”
Rather than looking mollified by the explanation, Sheriff Donnelly narrows her eyes. “Are you the woman from the candy shop? The one who called Bram by another name? Benjamin or something.”
Bennett. Bennett Fucking Kincaid, one of the former heirs to the Kincaid mafia empire.
The words clog my throat, but I don’t dare let them free.
Not only because Gray and Bram are now flanking me, but because I can’t be sure where the sheriff stands in all this.
On the surface, it seems like she would be on my side, given her position and her apparent sneering hatred of the “Thorne” family.
But I saw the way she looked at Gray when she walked in. The sexual tension between them is so fucking thick you could cut it with a knife. There’s no possible way I can risk not just my own life but sweet Poppy’s as well without knowing for sure which side the sheriff will ultimately come down on.
So instead I force a smile, like my whole world isn’t crumbling around me. “That was me. He looks a lot like my college boyfriend, which spooked me a bit, but I just had the wrong guy.”
The sheriff doesn’t look convinced, and my heart feels like it might beat right out of my chest as I wait for her to make up her mind on whether I’m telling the truth or not.
Once again, though, it’s Poppy who breaks the tension. “Oh my god, Reese, stop being weird,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I swear it’s like you want something horrible to happen to our town the way you act sometimes.”
Insult flickers across the sheriff’s face. “I do not. I just don’t trust outsiders.”
“And the Thornes have lived here for two freaking decades. At some point you have to get the fuck over it.”
“Language,” Reese and Gray parrot together, and the way they immediately turn to snarl at each other would have me in stitches if I wasn’t watching my one hope at escape wither and die before my very eyes.
“It’s my fucking store!” Poppy yells back. Tightening her hold on my arm, she tugs. “Come on, Marjorie. I’ve got a whole stack of books in the office for you to sign. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”
“Of course.” Smiling as though I’m not secretly dying inside, I gesture toward the back of the store. “Lead the way. And please, call me Josie. That’s what my friends call me.”
“Friends,” she whispers reverently. “I’m friends with Marjorie Fucking Kincaid.” With a happy squeal, she drags me toward the back of the store, chattering the whole way about her favorite books and characters of mine. All the while, Daddy watches on, his gaze zeroed in on me the entire time.
And when our eyes meet and he smiles, a smug, knowing smirk, I swear I can hear the sound of the lock turning on my cage.