Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Andi
By the time I crawled into my borrowed truck and slammed the door, I was freshly showered but still felt dirty.
Apparently, horse shit and the embarrassment of accidental full-frontal nudity was harder to scrub off than I expected.
Heat flooded my cheeks for the tenth time in thirty minutes as I unwillingly relived the moment again.
He saw all of me.
All. Of. Me.
I groaned and dropped my forehead against the steering wheel.
It was awful, the way he stood there and just…
drank me in with wide eyes that dragged down my body in a slow, horrified awe—like his brain couldn’t keep up with what his eyes were feeding him.
And if I hadn’t been standing there, exposed and furious and wrapped in a patchwork quilt, I might’ve taken a little satisfaction in that.
I mean, if I’d known all it took to shut him up and wipe that stupid scowl off his face was standing naked in front of him, I would’ve considered it sooner.
Maybe.
Probably not.
I banged my forehead against the steering wheel again, a little harder this time.
How was I supposed to look him in the eye after this? How was I supposed to exist near him without thinking about the way he looked at me?
And I swear, if he so much as smirked at me the next time I saw him—
Nope. I couldn’t do it. Not the smirks. Not the lingering looks. Not the possibility that he’d remember every inch of what he saw.
The only solid answer to this horrible, mortifying problem was avoidance—total, unflinching, strategic avoidance…and maybe a new place to stay.
I let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a groan and a whimper, twisted my key in the ignition, and threw the truck into gear.
The old Chevy struggled to gain speed as I pressed the toe of my boot hard against the accelerator, trying to outrun my humiliation but failing.
Between the rooster ambush, Zane’s delightfully awful attitude, the manure mishap, and—oh yeah—flashing my new archnemesis, I was officially calling this morning a bust…
a fiery, steaming, horse shit-covered bust.
Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I rolled down my window for some air, hoping the wind might blow some of the shame off me and cool down that anger simmering in my veins.
It didn’t.
With the ranch now gone from my rearview mirror, I set my mind on the only place I could think of that could bring me any sort of relief and comfort: Belle’s diner.
She’d been nothing but kind and nice since I stumbled into this little town, and if anyone could help me pretend this disaster of a morning hadn’t happened, it was her.
The diner came into view as I passed the bend, its metallic siding catching the light and flickering like it was welcoming me back in Morse code or something.
My grip on the steering wheel loosened as some of that tension tightening my body faded, and I wiggled my fingers to get my blood circulating again.
Everything about the place looked…different today.
Yeah, it was the same little diner, same gravel lot, same vintage Coke sign swinging by the door, but now it kind of felt like something else entirely.
When I rolled up here yesterday, it was out of necessity.
I was exhausted and disoriented. But today? Today it felt like a haven.
I hadn’t really noticed it yesterday, but Belle’s place was actually quite charming.
The building had this classic railroad car diner aesthetic with bushes and flowers flanking the entrance, full of cheerful little buds and blooms in an array of pinks and purples.
It was cozy, and homey, and the kind of place where you just knew the coffee was strong, the pie was homemade, and the people behind the counter asked if you wanted your usual.
And after the morning I’d had, it felt like walking into a hug I didn’t have to ask for.
The gravel lot crunched beneath my tires as I pulled in, rolling up beside a rusted-red pickup truck that had definitely seen better days.
I parked and let the engine idle for a second, soaking in the calm I felt from just being there.
This I could handle. No roosters. No manure.
No tall, broad-shouldered grumps barging into bedrooms uninvited—because I had definitely said “don’t come in.
” Just the smell of bacon and coffee, the clink of dishes, and Belle’s calm, no-nonsense voice calling people hon and sweetheart.
I killed the ignition and climbed out, shutting the door and dodging the sprinkle of rust as I made my way to the entrance.
The bells over the door clanged as I walked in, and Belle glanced up from behind the counter where she was refilling a mug for one of her customers.
After doing a double take, her gaze landed on me and stuck—not quite shocked but more curious.
“Well, hey, stranger,” she said, looking me over again. “You look like you’ve had yourself a day.”
I huffed out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh, even though I tried, and self-consciously combed a hand through my hair—my fingers getting stuck in the mess of tangled waves.
“Is it that obvious?” I muttered, giving up on trying to tame my windblown locks and tucking a few errant strands behind my ears.
Belle gestured to one of the stools. “Come sit,” she said. “I’ll get you something hot and something sweet, and you can tell me all about it. Or don’t. Your call.”
I slid onto the nearest stool and slumped forward onto the counter, letting my forehead rest against the cool laminate.
The soft clink of ceramic against the laminate sounded next to my head, followed by the warm, familiar scent of coffee drifting toward me.
I lifted my head just enough to peek at her from under my hair.
“You ever fall in horse shit and then flash a guy you hate?”
Belle blinked. Once. Twice. “Not on the same day.”
“Well...” I wrapped my hands around the mug. “I guess I’m just lucky like that.”
She placed the coffee pot back on the warmer and turned back to me, hip cocked and arms crossed. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, the beginnings of an amused grin pulling at her lips. “You wanna tell me how we got from ‘thanks for the clothes’ to ‘flashing a guy you hate’ in less than twenty-four hours?”
I groaned and sat up a little, then told her everything.
Not every little detail—God, no, I didn’t need to relive all of it—but enough to paint the picture.
Her expression didn’t change once as she just stood there and listened and nodded, calm as could be.
When I finally ran out of steam, she placed a slice of pie in front of me.
“I know he’s your nephew,” I said, picking up my fork and breaking off a piece of the pie. “But I really can’t stand him.”
“Zane’s…complicated,” she said and placed the glass lid back on the cake stand holding the pie. “Always has been. He doesn’t talk about much and pretty much keeps to himself, especially here lately.”
“Yeah, he’s a real private guy,” I replied dryly. “Except for when he’s glaring at me, or judging me, or reminding me every ten minutes that I’m not welcome.”
A telltale smile lifted the corner of Belle’s mouth. “Funny, that’s not what I heard.”
I squinted at her and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?” before popping the bite off my fork and fighting the urge to roll my eyes and groan because…yeah, it was that good.
She gave me an almost-innocent look. “Word around town is, when Gus got handsy last night, Zane came charging in like a bull seein’ red.”
I stared mid-chew. “How do you know about that?”
Belle just smirked and wiped up a non-existent spill on the counter with a towel. “Sweetheart, gossip in this town is as dependable as the sunrise and twice as fast.”
I looked away from her and down to my pie, pushing the crumbs around on the plate with the prongs of my fork. “I didn’t ask him to do that.”
“Yeah, but he stepped in anyway,” she said. “For what it’s worth, he’s not the kind of guy who sticks his neck out unless something really bothers him. And Gus messin’ with you must’ve really bothered him.”
I huffed a sarcastic laugh and stabbed another bite of pie. “I really bother him.”
Belle just gave me one of those slow, knowing looks. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe you rattle him. There’s a difference.”
“Please don’t make me try to understand him,” I said, dropping my fork to the plate and scrubbing my hands over my face.
“If anything, he’s the one that needs this little heart-to-heart about understanding people.
” I brought my hands back down to the counter and sighed as I chewed on my bottom lip.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out like that.
It’s just…” I paused, picking up my fork again and swirling the last bite of pie through the syrupy filling on the plate.
“I left someone who made me feel small on purpose. A man who could twist anything into being my fault and made me feel like I was losing my mind half the time. I don’t know what Zane’s deal is, but I didn’t crawl out of one mess just to be shoved into another. ”
Belle’s expression softened even more. “Sweetheart, I’m not trying to defend him. And I sure as hell ain’t blind to his flaws. All I’m saying is…don’t mistake a wounded man for a wicked one. Zane’s rough, sure, but he ain’t cruel.”
I gave her a tired look. “I appreciate you trying to help me see the bigger picture. I really do. But I’m still mad at him.”
“Oh, trust me, hon, I’m not too happy with him, either, after hearing all this,” she said with all seriousness as her eyes met mine. “The next time I see that boy I’m gonna knock him upside the back of his head.”
Belle winked, and I held back a smirk as the bell over the door clanged and Norah’s voice rang out, cheerful as ever. “Whose skull are we crackin’?”
Belle didn’t miss a beat. “Your brother’s.”
Norah let out an exasperated sigh and plopped down in the barstool next to me. “What’d Luke do now?”
“Wrong brother,” Belle said, already pouring Norah a cup of coffee.
Norah’s gaze landed on me. “Zane?”
I gave her a flat look. “The one and only.”
“He still being a broody baby?” she asked, blowing on her coffee.
“A broody baby with hearing issues,” I muttered dryly.
Norah’s eyebrows came together at that, silently questioning me as she brought the mug to her lips and took a careful sip.
“He walked in on me changing,” I said bluntly.
Norah coughed into her mug, spraying coffee onto the counter. “Wait. What?”
Belle, ever helpful, added, “Caught her in nothin’ but her birthday suit.”
Norah turned to me with wide blue eyes. “Are you kidding me? He just…walked in?”
“Apparently, my very clear don’t come in sounded like please, barge in and ruin my life.”
“Ugh,” Norah said, grabbing some napkins from the dispenser to clean up the coffee she sprayed. “Oldest brother or not, I’m clocking him the next time I see him. Enough to jog whatever part of his brain’s responsible for being an idiot.”
Despite myself, I smiled and glanced between Norah and Belle. “You two are really committed to the head trauma thing.”
“Only when it’s deserved,” Norah said sweetly as she balled up the napkins and set them off to the side. “And trust me, Zane’s overdue.”
I didn’t trust my voice to respond to that.
Instead, I just stared at the crumbs on my plate and swallowed down the sudden emotion building in my throat.
Both of these women barely knew me but, here they were—without hesitation—ready to defend my honor.
I’d never had that kind of backup before.
When I was with Heath, I’d learned real quick how quiet the world could get when you needed someone to speak up.
People looked the other way. Friends turned into strangers.
Even when I was screaming on the outside, no one seemed to hear it—or they did and pretended not to.
But here I was now, still new in town, and these two were already lining up to swing on my behalf.
A nudge to my arm brought me out of my thoughts.
“You up for a little field trip?” Norah asked, looking way too innocent as the corner of her mouth tipped upward.
I raised an eyebrow, curious but suspicious. “What kind of field trip?”
She leaned in as her grin grew mischievous. “The kind that’s good for blowing off steam.”
Belle let out a low chuckle as she shook her head. “Don’t go gettin’ this poor girl into trouble, Norah.”
“I would never,” Norah countered, all fake innocence, before turning back to me and nudging my arm again. “What do you say? Wanna burn off a little of that frustration before you implode?”
“That sounds so vague but…” I sighed and shook my head as a small laugh slipped out. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Norah whooped and looped her arm with mine as we stood and waved goodbye to Belle.
“You’ll thank me later,” she said, low and playful near my ear.
I wasn’t so sure, but I followed her out the door, anyway.