Chapter 10
Jessica
“Is something wrong, Jessica?” my mom asks, a frown on her face. “You’re unusually quiet.”
“No!” The word is vehement, and I soften my voice. “I’m tired from last-day-of-work stuff.”
“Are you sure?” None of the concern clears from her features. “It’s not like you to be out of sorts.”
It’s not, but I can’t exactly explain I’m out of sorts because Sheriff Charlie Radcliffe did not text me even once.
Which I find very rude, considering how I rocked his world last night.
I mean, sure, we agreed it was closure, but still. One little text to make sure I was okay wouldn’t have killed him.
It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do.
All day long, every beep, peep, bing, or ring jolted my heart like a defibrillator, only to immediately crash out when the name on the screen belonged to someone other than him.
Which is why I should be happy this thing between us is over.
Why make things complicated?
It is common sense to focus on my life and the future.
I look up from my plate of garlicky shrimp pasta and vegetables to find my mom still watching me. “You know I hate goodbyes. All day, people were coming up to me and getting, like, emotional and stuff.”
It’s true. It’s documented fact I hate farewells and hugs from work colleagues. Both of which I got plenty.
Now it’s my dad’s turn to frown. “Did Travis try to talk to you again?”
“He tries every day, but since I’m out of here, he’s no longer my problem.” I pause, contemplating for a second before I continue, “Probably best not to share my new address if he happens to ask.”
“What does that mean?” His eyebrows slam together. “Do your brother and I have to go pay him a visit?”
I roll my eyes. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. The last thing I need is to bail you out of jail or represent you in a court of law.”
My mom’s lips press together at the mention of the Travis incident.
I do my best to reassure her. “Nothing is wrong, Mom. I’m tired and peopled out.”
It’s not a lie. I am operating on very little sleep.
After all the exercise I got in the back seat of Charlie’s truck, I should have slept like a baby, but I didn’t.
He feels unfinished all over again.
I look imploringly across the table at Hailey, who is daintily swirling a fork in her linguini.
Hailey was one of those postpartum oops babies. We’re only thirteen months apart, making us virtually twins, so we have excellent silent communication. “Guess what? While I packed, I finally decided how I’m going to murder my victim.”
My mom’s expression instantly transforms into delight. “That’s excellent, honey. I told you that you’d break through that rough spot.”
I jump on the subject with zeal. “Did you decide on the poison or throwing them off the roof?”
“Neither! I’m going to hack them up with a chainsaw and scatter the body parts over the city.
It’s going to be dark and personal. Each limb Morgan finds will reveal another piece of the puzzle and lure her deeper into the killer’s trap.
” She stabs at a shrimp with maniacal glee.
“It will lead her down the path of obsession, resulting in a series of yet-to-be-defined horrible decisions. You know, for her overarching character development.”
“Morgan hates feeling vulnerable,” my mom says, as though this fictional woman Hailey created is a real, breathing person.
In fairness, Morgan Reed, our tragically beautiful heroine—who finds dead bodies like other women find shoes and goes through men like used tissues during the height of flu season—has been in our lives for a long time, so she’s part of the family.
My father sighs. “All I ask is that we don’t talk about dismemberment during dinner.”
“Sorry, Dad. The last couple of books, Steele was off again, and this will drive her into his arms, sending her into a deeper spiral.” As Hailey speaks, each word becomes louder and fills with escalating excitement.
Alex Steele is Morgan’s one true love. A damaged ex-cop kicked off the force with a chip on his shoulder. They have amazing sexual tension, are terrible to each other, and full of angst.
All of a sudden, my mom’s eyes well with tears. “I’m going to miss you girls.”
Hailey’s eyes immediately begin to water. “Noooo! You can’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry. We won’t be that far. Think of how much we see Ryder. We’ll still have Sunday dinners.”
“I know.” She sniffs and carefully wipes under her lashes with a napkin. “But it’s been so fun having you girls in the house again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
Oh no, they’re getting weepy, and I can’t handle a cryfest. My emotional reserves are depleted. “You’re romanticizing. Remember how you pulled your hair out when we were teenagers.”
“Not because of me. Ryder and Jessica are the problem children.” Hailey beams like the perfect daughter she is.
I stick out my tongue at her. “Okay, you’ll miss Hailey, but think of how happy you’ll be to get rid of me.”
“Don’t even joke, Jessica. You know we love you just as much as Hailey,” my mom admonishes.
“Even if you can’t help finding mischief wherever you go,” my dad adds helpfully.
Last night, Charlie said I couldn’t help being a scene-stealer.
Then he pulled me close, rubbed my back, and made me feel safe.
Even though I don’t care about being safe, I can’t deny the heavy weight of his palm was nice.
No. Don’t think about him. It’s over.
From this second on, he’s Ryder’s boss and my coworker.
Hailey glances at the clock hanging in the eating area. “I need to get a few things out of my head.”
“How long do you need?” I ask.
“At least thirty.”
I turn to my mom. “I’ll help clean up. When Hailey’s done, we can curl up on the couch and watch a Hallmark movie.”
Her expression brightens. “I’ll make lemon drops.”
Crying crisis averted, I stand from the table, grabbing my plate. “We’ll have cocktails and watch the workaholic heroine who inherited her grandma’s inn fight with the disgruntled handsome handyman until she learns the true meaning of life and love.”
“It’s a date.” Happy again, my mom rises from her seat.
See? This is all I need.
Watching a hero who comes through with the people I love, instead of obsessing about the sheriff.
Who can’t even be bothered to text me!
Charlie
It’s lunchtime on Thursday at Earl’s Diner, the mecca of Revival dining. The waitress, Mabel, an institution in her own right, raises the pot in her hand. “Afternoon, Sheriff. Coffee?”
I throw my keys on the table and slide in across from Mitch. “I’ll take an iced tea. Thanks, Mable.”
“Sure thing.” She walks away, leaving me alone with my best friend.
Since Mitch is working from home today, he took it upon himself to show up at my office and refuse to leave until I went to lunch with him.
So I’m not surprised when, as soon as we’re alone, he puts the menu aside. “Today’s move-in day, right?”
“Yep.” I keep my eyes trained on the menu like I’m memorizing a masterpiece instead of an oversized laminated card with pictures on it.
“You’ve avoided me, so I assume you didn’t talk to Ryder.”
No, I have not talked to Ryder.
I have, however, fucked his sister again. “No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“She asked me not to.”
“And you agreed?”
I shrug one shoulder.
What does he want me to say? That the only thing I managed to accomplish yesterday was not texting her, like I’m in fucking high school?
Or that, when she’s in my arms, I would do anything for her?
Or how, even though I haven’t seen or talked to her, I can feel her presence in Revival.
After an extended silence, I raise my head, surveying the patrons, cataloging the lunchtime crowd. I spot Mable headed this way, saving me for at least a few minutes.
In her sixties, she still teases her platinum blond hair into an updo that’s at odds with her faded jeans and an Earl’s T-shirt. She puts my tea on a white doily. “Chief’s sisters are moving in today, aren’t they?”
The haunting of Jessica continues.
I preemptively attempt to head off any more questions. “Ryder’s helping them move, and that’s as much information as I have.”
“Heard they’re real lookers.” There’s a reason Mabel is a fountain of information.
“Wouldn’t know.” I hand her the menu. “I’ll take a cheeseburger.”
One penciled brow rises up her forehead. “I thought you were spotted with the brunette at Sam’s the other night.”
I look at Mitch and shake my head, silently asking the question we’ve asked each other too many times to count. Why do we live in this town?
Mitch also hands over his menu. “I’ll take the same.”
Then the three of us have a standoff that goes on for an uncomfortably long time before Mable concedes with a huff. “You boys call if you need anything.”
When she takes her leave, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “This is going to be a fucking disaster.”
“They are new and exciting. It will die down.” He pushes the sleeves of his navy waffle shirt up his forearms. “Don’t forget, there are two of them, so the attention will be spread out.”
“Maybe, but the other sister’s the writer, so I don’t know if I’m going to get that lucky.” I know I’m not. I’ve learned enough about Ryder’s sisters to know who the troublemaker is.
The bell over the door rings, and as if I’ve conjured her out of thin air, Jessica comes strolling in.
And because I turn into an eighteen-year-old around her, I get hard at the mere sight of her.
It’s infuriating.
There’s a stilling in the room at an unexpected face.
As if she’s a heat-seeking missile and I’m her target, she immediately locks in on me.
Time and space stand still.
Somehow, I have to sever the connection, but it’s so strong, I don’t know how. I can’t even force myself to stop looking at her.
From the inside of my haze, I hear Mitch say, “That’s her, huh?”
“Yep.” The casualness of my response is met with an intense spike of possessiveness that takes me by surprise.
I experience an irrational urge to demand he stop looking at her.
Which is utterly ridiculous.
Mitch is completely devoted to his wife.
But logic doesn’t apply here. Doesn’t apply to her.
As she stands there, her face scrubbed free of makeup, her hair in a high ponytail, dressed in a pair of tiny black cotton shorts and a red graphic half shirt with white lettering I can’t read, she’s so fucking hot I can’t stand it.
“This is making a lot more sense,” Mitch says.
The words don’t break her hold on me.
But when her expression suddenly shifts and she gets that determined look in her eyes, I tense right up.
Instantly on high alert.
Her shoulders roll and straighten.
Oh no.
I give her a slight headshake, silently imploring her not to come in my direction.
She ignores me, flips her ponytail, and heads on over.
“She’s not coming over, is she?” Mitch’s question finally breaks through my lust.
The room blares into focus.
I sigh. “She is.”
When she’s standing at the edge of our table, she puts her hands on her hips. “Sheriff.”
“Jessica.” My gaze catches on the expanse of her smooth, flat stomach, and I try my hardest not to remember my lips trailing over her skin.
“It seems I can’t escape you.”
“It’s a small town.” I gesture to the smug, grinning asshole sitting across the table. “This is Mitch Riley. He’s married to Sophie’s best friend, Maddie.”
She turns and beams at him. “Ryder told me you were nice enough to volunteer your house for the party.”
Ryder and Sophie are building a house, and construction just broke ground, so they’re in a small temporary place over on Pinecrest not suitable for a large gathering.
“It’s our pleasure. My wife grew up in a big family and loves a full house,” Mitch says.
“Mitch is also a lawyer.” I offer, wanting to keep her attention off me.
She gives him an assessing look. “Where do you practice?”
“I’m at the state attorney’s office,” Mitch says.
“What’s your view on lawyers?” Her voice is full of flirtation.
Or is it my imagination? I can’t fucking tell anymore.
Mitch laughs. “That they’re boring as shit and mostly assholes.”
She laughs right along with him. “Fabulous. We’re going to get along just fine.”
Mitch’s smile widens, and he’s clearly amused by her. “That’s all it takes? Disdain for our chosen profession?”
“I’m afraid it’s a requirement for me.” She cocks her hip and gives me a very pointed look. “But for the record, I’m a lot harder to please than that. A lot.”
I keep my jaw clamped tight to keep from engaging her.
This is the problem with her. She cannot help herself. The woman has no ability to play it cool.
“I bet.” The bastard slides over and gestures to the spot he’s made. “Do you want to sit down?”
That’s the last thing I need. I glower at him, but he ignores me.
She stares at the seat like a long-lost lover before a forlorn, dramatic sigh escapes her lips. “You have no idea how much I want to say yes, but I was sent to retrieve lunch, and I don’t want to deal with a bunch of hangry people.”
“Maybe next time,” Mitch says.
“Maybe.” She looks down her nose at me and sneers. “Assuming you’re with better company.”
“A pleasure as always, Jessica,” I say.
She offers my best friend a dazzling smile before waving toward the counter. “I should get back.”
Then she swishes off, her hips swaying as she heads to the counter.
As predicted, every eye in the room stays glued to her. It takes five excruciating, endless minutes and for our hamburgers to be delivered before she leaves.
When the door slams closed behind her, I relax, blowing out a pent-up breath. “So that’s her.”
A despicable chuckle comes from Mitch. “You are totally fucked.”