“It’s funny you say that, because I’m going to have to askyouto tell my Jamie that her place is with her man.” He snarled the words, although he hadn’t made an overt threat yet.
She remembered where she had put the hammer.
Sidling closer to the register, she felt for the shelf alongside it.
“Hey, sis,” a friendly voice called from the doorway. “Is it too late for a donation?”
Her older brother Scott appeared next to the potted rosebush, a big box in his hands.
Relief nearly brought her to her knees.
Until the big, surly stranger pulled a knife.
Remy turned offthe GPS as he neared the exit off I-65 for Heartache. It hadn’t taken him long to learn his way around town. This small map-dot in central Tennessee had ended up feeling more like home in the course of almost two weeks than Miami had done in the years he’d lived there.
Then again, maybe he hadn’t really wanted Miami to feel like home. Part of the reason he’d chosen the city after Liv’s death was to be anonymous. The less people he connected with, the less he needed to talk about the past, but it sure as hell hadn’t helped him move on. Whereas being in Heartache had hauled him back to the land of the living and it felt—nice.
With the pink and gold colors of sunset slanting across his windshield, Remy drank in the moment that seemed like coming home. He’d spoken to Theresa, Sarah’s counselor, and they had a plan for helping her apply to some schools that used rolling admissions. However, he wanted Sarah to be on board with it. This week would give him that time to figure it out.
Now, after a quick stop at the B and B to change, he’d call Erin and find out where to meet her. He couldtake her out for dinner and then guide her around the dance floor under the stars. If the band playing at Lucky’s tonight was half as good as the group he’d heard last week, they would have a fun night. Actually, he could have a good time with Erin by cranking up the radio on her deck and two-stepping through the damp grass in her backyard. He needed more of that in his life if he was going to make a real effort to move on.
Needed more of Erin.
Not quite sure what to do about that thought, he shoved it aside for now. He’d bought another week to be with her, and he planned to enjoy the time without worrying about what happened afterward.
Heading through the center of town to get to the Heartache B and B, Remy turned on to Main Street.
His heart stopped when he saw the cop cars in front of Erin’s store. Blinking hard, he hoped for a second this was another nightmare—a new one that merged past and present. Cold sweat popped along the back of his shoulders. Clammy hands slid on the steering wheel as he slowed the sedan to a crawl.
Two county sheriff’s cruisers flanked the shop doors. All the lights were on in Last Chance Vintage, while the other stores were dark and closed for the night.
Remy must have parked his vehicle in a blind fog because, in the next moment, he walked toward the front door. Voices emerged from inside, but not hers. Not Erin’s. Where the hell was Erin?
Uniformed officers appeared in front of him.
One face after another. None of them the right one.
The hissing static of the past filled his ears. He couldn’t hear what any of them were saying. He lumbered around the store like a wounded bear, bumping into racks andknocking over a display until an officer grabbed him by the elbow.
“Where is she?” he shouted, his words the only ones he could hear.
Except for hers.
“Remy?”
Erin burst into the store through the open back door.
Relief pierced his chest like a tranquilizer dart, stopping the fear. He reached for her, unsteady as hell, and she wrapped him in a hug so hard she might have kept him on his feet. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled the amber fragrance of her perfume, the clean smell of her shampoo.
Her heart pounded softly against his chest, making him realize he held her too tightly. With a kiss to her forehead, he loosened his hold. Stared into cornflower blue eyes.
“I wish I’d called you. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner. Maybe I hoped everything would be cleared up before you got here. Or maybe I’m not thinking clearly at all.”
“You’re okay.” He needed to affirm it. To hear her say it.
His pulse still jittered too fast.
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” She stroked his arm. Kissed his shoulder. “I’m just a little…scattered. I had a disgruntled visitor earlier, but he’s gone now. The police escorted him off the premises and I’ve already given my statement, so I think we’re about done here.”
