She rose from the booth, but it was too late, Carlos was marching toward her.
Shit, shit, shit.
“You,” Carlos growled.
Noah rose from the booth, but when he tried to step in front of her, she pressed a hand to his chest. If she wanted to stand on her own two feet in this town, she couldn’t let her big brother fight her battles.
“Hi, Carlos.”
His eyes spit fire. “You dare show your face here after youkilledmy son?”
“Hey.”
At Noah’s shout, she stepped in front of him and gave her full attention to Carlos. “I’m back because this is my home. But I understand that my return might be a shock for you, so I’m going to leave.”
“You sure as hell are going to leave.”
“Not Amber Ridge,” Bonnie clarified. “This café. This town is my home, Carlos. And I’m here to stay. I know it might take a while for you and Jane to get used to—”
“A while to get used to? I’m not going to drink fucking coffee beside the woman responsible for my son’s death! The best thing you ever did was leave, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do it again.”
Then he stormed straight back out of The Tea House.
A rush of air Bonnie hadn’t realized she’d been holding rattled out of her chest. Her heart beat like it was trying to punchout of her body. And maybe it was. Maybe it wanted to run as much as the rest of her.
“Are you okay?” Noah’s words were quiet, but there was also an edge to them. An anger. Like he was right on the verge of going after Carlos.
She turned and looked at him, trying hard to keep her voice steady. “He didn’t do anything.”
Noah eyes narrowed like he didn’t agree. “You should have let me put him in his place.”
“His son died. He’s still hurting. And I’m thirty-one now. I don’t need my brother throwing punches for me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m going to go.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
She shook her head. “No. I just…I need some time to think.” She reached out and pulled her brother into a hug. “Thank you. For coming today and welcoming me home. And for being on my side.”
His strong arms were tight around her. “I’llalwaysbe on your side, Bon.”
They parted, and she smiled once more before turning. But before stepping outside, she caught a glimpse of Zane. He was still at the counter but standing straighter now, watching her. And he looked as angry as her brother. Maybe angrier.
Angry on her behalf? He didn’t even know her.
One thing she knew for absolute certainty—the White family still placed the blame for their son’s death squarely on her shoulders.
CHAPTER 4
“Hi, Zane. It’ssogood to see you.”
No. Too eager.
Just because he had that unfair combination of strength and symmetry like someone had built him out of spare Greek god parts, itdid notmean she needed to bat her lashes over him.
She watched her reflection in her bathroom mirror as she practiced again. “Zane. Hey. I was wondering if you had a minute.”
Better. More professional.
She stepped out of her bathroom, grabbed her cell from the top of the dresser, and moved out of her bedroom.
