“OH MY GOD!”
The shriek came from behind us. High-pitched, delighted, and absolutely horrifying.
I turned to see a woman in her forties rushing toward us, phone already out, eyes wide with recognition.
No. No no no no no.
“You’re Dr. Brock Blaze!” She was practically vibrating with excitement. “From Midnight At Magnolia General! Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s you! What are you doing here?”
My mind went blank. Years of media training evaporated like smoke.
“I—I think you have me confused with—”
“No confusion! I’d recognize that face anywhere! My church choir is OBSESSED with you! We watch every episode!” She was already texting, her fingers flying. “Can I get a picture? Please? My friends will DIE!”
I could feel Farley staring at me. Could feel the exact moment the pieces clicked into place in his mind.
“I’m really not—” I started, but she was already moving closer, phone raised for a selfie.
Panic overrode every other instinct.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” I couldn’t look at Farley. Just grabbed my coffee from the startled deli worker and headed for the door.
“Wait!” the woman called after me. “Just one picture! Dr. Blaze!”
I was already outside, practically running to my car. The Miata suddenly felt like a spotlight instead of transportation. I fumbled with my keys, got the door open, and threw myself inside.
Through the store window, I saw Farley standing exactly where I’d left him, coffee in hand, staring after me with an expression I couldn’t read.
The woman was following me outside, phone raised like a weapon.
I started the engine and reversed out of the parking lot faster than was probably safe, my heart hammering against my ribs. There goes my anonymous mountain fling, or Farley not knowing who I was.
“Fuck!” I muttered. All I wanted was a month of being treated like a normal person instead of a daytime TV character.
I drove back up the mountain, hands shaking on the steering wheel, and tried not to think about the look on Farley’s face. I’d probably just ruined the first genuine connection I’d felt in years.
By the time I pulled up to my cabin, I’d convinced myself that this was fine. Better, even. Better that Farley knew now, before things got complicated.
“Hell, who am I kidding?” I got out of the tiny car and shivered as an icy wind blew. There was no way he’d want a fling now. And honestly? Now that he knew who I was, would he even see me as a real person?
Chapter Six
Farley
Istood frozen in the canned goods aisle of Shifflett’s General Store, a cup of coffee growing cold in my hand, watching my neighbor flee the building like it was on fire.
Dr. Brock Blaze.
The name meant nothing to me, but the woman who’d screamed it—now rushing past me and out the front door, phone still raised like a weapon—clearly thought it should mean everything.
“Sam!” she called after him. “Just one selfie! My girls will absolutely DIE!”
Through the window, I watched him fumble with his keys, throw himself into that ridiculous Miata, and reverse out of the parking lot like the hounds of hell were nipping at his perfect California-tanned heels.
The woman—somewhere in her mid-forties, wearing a fleece vest embroidered with cardinals and a disappointed expression—trudged back into the store, shoulders slumped.
“Did you see him?” She was already scanning the aisles, apparently checking to make sure she hadn’t hallucinated the whole encounter. “Did you SEE him? Dr. Brock Blaze, right here in Ashford Gap! In Shifflett’s, for crying out loud!”
