Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
JESSICA
People who think small towns are boring, apparently haven’t visited one before.
There is nothing dull about living in Bluebonnet Creek.
It’s a hive, constantly buzzing with activity.
People are always out and about, and everybody knows everybody, so they make a point to stop by and chat before going on their way.
Most of the time, it’s great. But sometimes the hive can get really, really loud.
Deciding I could use a fresh cup of coffee, I park my car by the curb and then slide out. Main Street is always the busiest place in town, and today is no different.
Mrs. Timothy is in front of her flower shop, talking to Mrs. Smith.
Both of their attention going to me the moment I step out.
They wave at me, and I return their greeting as I make my way across the street to the Reading Nook.
I notice a few more groups of people gathered outside, huddled together and chatting animatedly.
More animatedly than usual, and that’s saying something.
What the hell is that about?
Just as I’m about to pull open the door to the café, it swings open. Mrs. Darrow walks out, her head turned over her shoulder as she talks to whoever is behind her. “—back?”
The hair on my neck rises at that one word as she steps out, Mrs. Lopez at her heels. Her voice is a low whisper, but not so low that I can’t hear it.
“And apparently he’s been seen going to the police station!” She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “He hasn’t been here more than a few days, and he’s already causing trouble.”
I press my lips together. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who is the he they’re talking about. As far as I know, there is only one person who came back recently.
“Right. I mean—” She turns around only to come to a sudden stop when she sees me. Red colors her cheeks at being caught, but she quickly schools her expression. “Hi, Jessica! How are you doing?”
“Mrs. Darrow.” I nod at her before shifting my attention to the other woman. “Mrs. Lopez. Not as good as you, apparently. Then again, my schedule is packed most of the time these days. Keeping busy helps me stay focused. Wouldn’t want to put my nose in matters that are none of my business.”
Although my voice is sweet, and a smile is plastered on my face, neither of them miss my reprimand. Their cheeks heat in embarrassment—rightfully so—and they scurry off quickly, muttering something under their breath.
I glare at their retreating backs, noticing how they’ve huddled together, arms linked. Now they’re probably gossiping about me. Before I know it, people will start talking about how I’m being rude to my neighbors.
Shaking my head, I enter the café where I find people staring at me with wide eyes. There is nothing like piping-hot gossip that gets this crowd going.
Like seriously.
“What do you think he did?” Mary Sue asks, none too subtly.
“Who cares?” Lauren wiggles her brows. “At least he’s hotter than ever.”
I just stare at them, incredulous.
People need to mind their own fucking business.
Lauren catches me watching them. She flips her hair over her shoulder and smirks at me before leaning closer to her friend and whispering something to her.
Rolling my eyes at her, I make my way to the counter where Rose has been observing the whole interaction.
“Some people never outgrow high school,” she comments as she watches the two gossiping women.
“More than a few someones.” There is no holding back a snort. “Has it been like this the whole day?”
“Pretty much. You know how people can get around here. I swear, when I first returned to Bluebonnet, it felt like no matter where I went, people were talking about me. Unfortunately, there isn’t much you can do besides suck it up and wait for something else to blow up and grab their attention.”
“I guess there is that.”
If somebody knows about town gossip, it’s Rose Hathaway.
She’s been the center of attention several times over the last few years.
I still remember the judging whispers circling around when the news spread that she got pregnant shortly after starting her freshman year of college.
The wagging tongues eased down once they got married shortly after.
However, they picked up again when they moved back to Bluebonnet Creek when her now ex-husband wasn’t drafted to the pros due to an injury, and again a few days ago when he tried to kidnap their son.
How sad people’s lives have to be that their best source of entertainment is somebody’s pain.
Those familiar brown eyes pop into my mind.
Is it true what they’re saying? Did Matthew really go to the police station? And if so, why?
“You want something?” Rose asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I give my head a little shake.
It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about it. About him. Matthew Williams might be back causing a ruckus, but he’ll be gone before I know it. He doesn’t belong in this town. He never has.
“Yeah, can I get a latte? Double shot of espresso. I need a little pick-me-up before I stop at the center.”
“Coming right up.” Rose grabs a cup and goes to the coffee machine, pressing a few buttons. “Volunteering again?”
“Yeah, I try to go at least once a week.”
“That’s really nice of you.”
“What can I say? I love my job.” I glance toward the kitchen just as the bell chimes. “No Becky around today?”
“Not today. She’s preparing everything for Jackson’s birthday party this weekend. I can’t believe he’s already one!”
“Right?” I grin affectionately. “It feels like she brought him here just yesterday!”
“I know.” There’s a wistful note in her voice. She places my cup on the counter. “They grow up so fast.”
I wiggle my brows. “You thinking of having another one of your own?”
She’s been dating Chase Williams, the man who has barely stepped a foot off his ranch in the last few years. However, since she walked into his life, he’s slowly started to open up. He’s obsessed with her and her son, making her the happiest I’ve seen her since she came back.
Rose chuckles softly. “I don’t know. Maybe someday. We’ll see.”
“I get that. There’s no need to rush.” I pull out my wallet, ready to place the money on the counter, when a hand slides into my peripheral vision.
“I’ll take care of that.”
The familiar voice has a shiver racing over my skin. I turn on my heels, my gaze narrowing when I spot Damien standing behind me. He’s dressed in his trademark jeans and flannel shirt, with a white tee underneath. Light stubble covers his jaw, but today his eyes seem clear.
He watches me intently, almost as if he’s drinking me in, and I stiffen under his gaze. He extends his hand to me, a bouquet of pink flowers in his fist.
“What are you doing?” I hiss softly, so only he can hear me.
The rest of the café is blocked by his tall frame, but I can still feel people’s attention on us. The murmuring has died down enough to hear the music that’s playing through the speakers.
“I got you flowers,” Damien points out, his attention shifting over my shoulder to Rose. “And I’m treating you to coffee. I think this should cover it.”
Rose must have not taken it because the muscle in his jaw twitches in annoyance.
“You haven’t bought me coffee or brought me flowers in forever, Damien. There is no reason for you to do it now.”
He presses his lips together, his fingers curling around the cash as he drops his hand to his side. “Well, now I’m doing it. I want us to talk.”
He wants.
Why am I not surprised?
Our whole relationship has been about what he wants.
“There is nothing to talk about,” I grit out, exasperated. When will he let this go? “We’ve said everything we had to say to each other.”
I turn around, effectively dismissing him. Shooting Rose an apologetic look, I quickly grab some cash and place it on the counter as I pick up my cup. “I’ll see you later, Rose.”
She’s nibbling at her lip, clearly worried, so I give her my most reassuring smile as I slip past Damien and go for the door. Everyone is watching us, curious to see where this is going, but I’m done being their entertainment.
I barely take a few steps when I hear Damien call out to me. “Jessy, wait.”
Dammit.
I walk faster until I reach the door. The bell chimes as it swings open, and I rush out. I barely make it to the curb when I feel fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling me back and making my coffee spill over the rim of the lid.
“Seriously?” I ask, yanking my hand out of his grasp. My skin burns at the sudden movement, but I ignore it. “What do you want, Damien? We said everything that needed to be said.”
“No, we didn’t. And since you blocked my number, I figured we’ll just have to do it in person.”
Of course, blame it on me.
That’s nothing new.
“I blocked your number,” I mutter softly, trying to keep my cool, “because you were being unreasonable. And now you’re cornering me in the middle of the town and making a scene?”
“If you’d just listen…”
“I don’t want to listen!”
But does he respect my wishes? No, of course not.
“The last few days were rough, and I said some things that I shouldn’t have. But you have to understand, I’m under a lot of pressure right now. I thought you of all people would get that.”
“This isn’t about the last few days, Damien. It’s the last few months. It’s you not listening and always blaming everything on me. Always judging me and demanding more and more and more. Belittling me any chance you get when things don’t go your way.”
His cheeks flame with anger, but I’m done taking his bullshit.
“It’s clear that we’re not good for each other.”
“We’re good for each other, baby…”
He tries to reach for me, but I take a step back, lifting my hands in the air. I need to put some distance between us. “No.” I shake my head, taking another step away. “We’re not getting back together. It’s done, Damien. We’re done. Please don’t do this again.”
His eyes narrow, lips pressing into a stubborn line. Something shines in his eyes. Determination? Anger? I’m not quite sure. And in this moment, I don’t have it in me to care.
Spinning on the balls of my feet, I find a few people standing on the sidewalk, and even some from the nearby shops, watching the show.
My fingers clench into fists in annoyance. At him. At myself. At everyone who’s staring at us.
Sucking in a deep breath to calm myself, I check the road for any oncoming cars before crossing.
“I’m not giving up on us, Jessy!” Damien calls out after me.
He always has to have the last word.
At this point, I’m not even surprised.
He’ll give up soon, right?
I mean, how far can he push this? He doesn’t want me, not really. He just hates that I was the one to call it off.
Sliding into my SUV, I lock my doors and let my head fall back against the headrest as I close my eyes.
What a fucking mess.