Chapter 2
Two
Roxy sank down into one of the barstools at her kitchen counter, hands trembling violently as she clutched the small white card in her hand.
She couldn’t stop staring at the roses, which she’d picked up with shaking hands, and carried inside.
They sat in front of her on the kitchen counter, the light above the island bar top casting a halo of light around them.
Fingers shaking, she was barely able to manage opening the tiny envelope. She tugged the card out and flipped it over, and her eyes scanned it rapidly and then a frown tugged her brows together.
It was completely blank.
Turning it over again, she shook her head at the blank card. Dropping the card onto the table, she covered her face, her hands still shaking uncontrollably.
The simplicity of it was more terrifying than anything else.
Because it may have been blank… but she knew who had sent the flowers.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
She stood, crossing to the blood red blooms with striding steps, where she picked them up and then threw them in the trash.
Her heart was hammering in her chest, fear clogging her throat.
She walked through the house, turning on lights and closing blinds, checking every room, making sure every window and both doors were locked securely.
They always were. Always.
Panic seized her again and she clawed at the collar of her shirt, pulling it away from her throat and attempting to suck in steadying breaths.
He was back. He had been here. Had he been in the house? She didn’t think so, as Free had made sure the locks were changed before he moved to Michigan.
She’d been confident Neal wasn’t returning to Fort Worth, to the little community of Melody Hills.
To her.
Until now, at least.
She stripped off her gym clothes in the bathroom with the door cracked open.
Every creak and groan of the old cabin made her jump, her heartbeat hammering in her throat, roaring in her ears.
Pulling on a pair of jogger sweatpants in a dark, eggplant purple color, and then a matching sweatshirt with the words ‘Squat: Because No One Raps About Little Butts’ emblazoned on the front.
Tying her red curls up in a messy bun on the top of her head, she walked out to the kitchen.
But as she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, she told herself she was just being paranoid.
Maybe the roses were from Free and Jodi, as a thank you token for being part of their wedding last week.
Maybe they were from Kasey; a thank you for being his ‘wing-woman’ and helping him get the girl of his dreams.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. That one was farfetched.
But why would Neal return now? After almost a year and a half, why would he come back now? Why would he go out of his way to deliver flowers to her doorstep? It made no sense.
Her phone buzzed where she’d set it on the counter next to her purse. Picking it up, she swiped to open the message.
Natalie: Duuuuude. He’s so hot it’s not even fair. How do you get anything done with him here at the same time as you? I can’t even concentrate on working out. I want to take a bite out of his ass like it’s a big ol red delicious apple.
Roxy rolled her eyes and typed a message back to Natalie.
Roxy: Screenshotting this to put up on the bulletin board in the gym entrance.
The text bubbles immediately appeared, and a moment later, she laughed out loud.
Natalie: Don’t you fucking dare! I would DIEEE!!
A moment later, another message popped through.
Natalie: Please sign up with me for his kickboxing class! Pleeeeease I will do anything! I CANNOT do this class alone Rox!
Sighing, she stared at the message for a long time.
Setting her phone down on the counter, she stepped over to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door, pulling out a single serve Stouffer’s frozen lasagna.
Tearing the cardboard open, she picked a fork out of the drawer and stabbed the plastic wrap over the top of the container, then popped it into the microwave.
Returning to her phone, she saw several PLEASE, ROX!! text messages and rolled her eyes again. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to brush up on some self-defense exercises.
Just in case.
That old, familiar chill of dread washed over her spine and made her shiver, and she glanced around the kitchen. Other than the remnants of the bouquet of flowers that were safely in the trash, everything was remarkably the same.
All except the clawing, chest seizing fear that tightened her throat…
Picking up her phone, she typed up a message back and hit send.
Roxy: Ok. Count me in.
She could almost hear the squeal of excitement from Nat’s end of the phone as her response came in, simply:
Natalie: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you!