A screw up with arecord.
He'd only come to town today for the stitches. He'd been driving back to the Triple H in Matt Hale's truck when he hadn't been able to resist the urge to stop off for a softdrink.
But he wasn't walking out of here with a lotto ticket. Even if the late afternoon sunlight was beaming down on the display like an angelichalo.
The woman leaned on the counter, chatting. Giving him a clear view of the display besideher.
One lottery ticket wasn't realgambling.
At least that's what the little devil on his shoulder would have himbelieve.
One lottery ticket wouldn't do much to scratch the itch between his shoulder blades. But it would dosomething.
Make him forget the last hour spent in the doctor's office, even if only for a momentary gambler'shigh.
He'd expected Doc O'Leary. Eighties. Failing eyesight. He’d been patching Dan up since he'd been atoddler.
Instead, the door had opened andshe'dwalked in. Wavy brown hair in a ponytail down her back. The crisp white coat and smart black slacks. She'd looked like a big-city doctor, so different from Doc, who wore Wrangler jeans to theoffice.
And those dark-rimmed glasses that had only highlighted her intelligent hazel eyes, which sparkled withcuriosity.
Shame had poured over him, hot and thick. Everybody in town knew hishistory.
He'd given up on hoping that a single soul in Taylor Hills might not know that he'd been incarcerated. And what he'd done to deserveit.
For one wild moment, he'd hopedshedidn'tknow.
And then she'd brought up Rene, the office manager. He'd gone to high school with Rene. There was no way she hadn't told the doctor to steer clear ofDan.
The doctor had been professional and polite, and all he'd wanted to do was run out of there with his tail between his legs like apup.
He was what he was. No chance of changing itnow.
But the shame threatened to eat himalive.
Made the voices in his head, the ones that begged him to hit up the nearest casino, just buyone lotto ticket, that muchlouder.
He didn't dare, even if the cost was only abuck.
Because if he could justify a buck, he could justify five. And if he could justify five, what was twenty, or fifty or aBenjamin?
Every dollar he socked away in his meager savings account was a dollar toward paying back the enormous debt he owed the Halefamily.
Today, his savings had shrunk from the doctor'svisit.
What a disaster, on so manylevels.
A bell above the door chimed, throwing him out of his scattered thoughts. Someone else was coming in to the gasstation.
He grimaced, turning away to stare at the display of candybars.
Now it would be even longer before he could get out of here. Unless he just left, just faced whoever had come in and theirjudgment.
That hedeserved.
Crap.
"Please?" said onechild.
