Chapter 6
Fiona
It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of the sheriff coming in every damn second of the day that he can. His silver gaze locked on me like a heat-seeking missile.
Every time a man thought he’d touch me, a growl broke out of his broad chest and the lean angles of his face hardened to rock and the assholes got the memo.
Sighing, I push my grocery cart to the front of the little store. Groaning when I see Margaret Shank. Her thin lips twist in a scowl when she sees me.
“Hello, Margaret,” I sigh and start putting my things on the counter.
“Fiona.” One word and her lips clamp together like she’s tasted something bad.
“How have you been?”
“Fine.” Her thin hands pull my lettuce over and punch in the code. Her hard eyes don’t even come up, staying locked on each item as she rings them up.
It’s like pulling teeth but I don’t give up even though I know I should. I pretend to glance around the store that’s only got a few people in it. “Business slow?”
Her head comes up, her dark eyes blazing. “Why do you care, Fiona?”
Stuttering back a step, I smile grimly. “I don’t know.”
Like a damn that’s burst, she mutters angrily. “You don’t belong here and you sure as hell don’t deserve a good man like the Sheriff. He’s making a fool of himself over you. It’s awful to see a good man brought to his knees by such as you.”
My fingers clench hard into my thighs, digging in so hard that I’m surprised blood doesn’t well up through my jeans. “I didn’t ask for any of that. He’s his own person.”
She sniffs and I can practically see the hate rolling off of her in waves. “You’re no better than your mother. She was a mess and you are just like her.”
Fighting the wince, I keep my face carefully blank, holding out my card and taking my bag of groceries. Silently, she runs the card and hands it to me, sniffing like she’s smelling something awful.
As carefully as I can, I walk out of the store, my legs stiff, my heart aching.
This is why I can’t be with Grady. The Sheriff is an elected position and they all think I’m trash. What happens to him when the election comes around if I stay with him?
He loses. We both lose. Because he’s made for this town and this job. I can’t be the thing that takes it away from him.
If I have to leave to get it through his thick damned skull, maybe I should look into selling the diner and finding a new life somewhere.
Closing my eyes, I rest my hand on my chest, the ache feeling like a pull, ripping my heart out of my chest while still beating, feeble as it is.
Tears crowd my eyes but I open them and sniff, refusing to let them fall. Refusing to let these damn people see what they’ve done to me.
All I did was be somebody’s child. Life just isn’t fair sometimes. But there’s nothing you can do about it.
Straightening my shoulders, I suck in my gut and stroll to my car like there’s nothing wrong here.
Like I haven’t been gut-punched again. Dumping my groceries in my car, I drive to the one realtor in town, needing to get this done while I still have the guts to do it.
The bell rings over the door and I smile grimly at Betsy Harris sitting behind the desk in her fancy pale pink suit with her perfectly-coiffed hair and nails.
“Hello, Betsy. I want to know if you can find me a buyer for the diner.”
Her head cocks and she smiles, brittle and fake as hell. “Of course, dear. Let’s look at some paperwork.”
I sit down and drop my huge tote bag to the ground, sitting straight and gulping a swallow as she begins to talk rates and closing costs and all that other shit.
All I have to do is get this done and then I can start over somewhere else and forget about this town, these people.
And the only man I’ll ever love.
Swallowing roughly, I force down the wail that wants to break free of my lips and nod my head like I’m listening to her instead of my heart beating slowly, breaking in my chest.