The sky is gray—not quite a snow sky, but weather’s coming. In the watery light of the winter afternoon, her skin looks pale, but her cheeks are a deep, rosy pink color and the dark slashes of her brows and fringe of lashes seem more vivid. Her hair is tucked under a cranberry-colored knit cap that compliments the deep blush color of her lips. And her eyes…
Her eyes narrow.
The small movement kicks me out of the hunger-induced stupor her features hypnotized me into. “What were you doing in there? Are you sick? Did you see Dec?”
The words come from my mouth before they ever entermy brain, barked out like orders instead of questions filled with an unreasonable amount of concern.
Her head rears back and her eyes go wide. “I—That’s none of your business.”
My mouth snaps shut, and I can’t think of a single thing to say. There are any number of responses that would work right now—you’re right, of course, I apologize, I’ve become a bear at the end of hibernation and am so hungry I could eat my own arm and therefore am not thinking things through—but none of those come out. I should say something, or wait for her to say something, or do anything other than what I’m already doing. But I’ve lost the ability to stay and chat and avoid looking at her lips again.
So I go. Right back to my office without another word or glance at her despite absolutely owing her something more, and I beeline to my office where I close my door and inhale the sandwich and banish the memory of how damned beautiful the woman is.
I don’t need someone else to worry about.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sam
It’s looking like I may actually have a job! I’m feeling triumphant. Totally.
And I am not irritated in the slightest that I had yet another awkward, frustrating interaction with my landlord slash the sheriff slash a man who should not be appealing to me at all based on his inability to behave rationally around me.
The way he jumped down my throat about coming out of the doctor’s office—what on earth? Where in his mind did it seem like his business to question me? And why is his approach always to be suspicious or harsh?
At the same time, that’s not quite true. I’m living in his garage apartment and paying less rent than he could charge. He did extend his hand in a way—he apologized and I believe he meant it.
And the other thing? The way his gaze tracked over myface earlier? It felt… heavy. But not in the grumbling, suspicious way it has at other interactions. This time, it was different.
This time, just like that wink he sent me, just like the flicker of a smile I caught, just like the sight of his very silhouette tends to do, our interaction left me buzzing.
Obviously not turned on. Buzzing. Irritated. Annoyed.
Completely put off by his abrasive approach to every single thing he does, minus that look he gave me that sent my stomach to my toes and my heart to my throat…
I shake that off and run through the contents of my fridge. Getting hired at Jerry’s today is the absolute best news, and even though I don’t think I want to be a waitress forever, I’m genuinely looking forward to the work. It’ll help pay the bills, let me keep my fridge stocked, and get Mr. Bingley back into his wet food luxuries, and I’m hoping it’ll give me a little space to figure out what I do want to do in the long run. I might even be able to enroll in a class and take a tiny step toward my bachelor’s degree, which I’ve had to put on hold for years.
May declared we needed celebratory coffees when I texted her the news, but when I stopped by Corner Coffee, someone else was there pulling espresso and she was apparently out at a meeting.
I haven’t figured out all the things May’s involved in, but so far, I know she volunteers at several different organizations from the library to the clinic to the animal shelter, and is somehow also an elected official for the town or something? Not the mayor, but something else. I’m baffled by the way she’s involved in every inch of the town’s life, though she’s got the energy and charm for it, no doubt.
I remember the bags of thrifted clothes I left in the car earlier and jog down the stairs to retrieve them. Inevitably,the sheriff’s vehicle comes trundling up the long drive right as I’m pulling the stuff from the trunk.
My stomach flips. I debate scuttling back inside, but before I can get my car locked and disappear, he’s sending his daughters inside and hollering at me.
“Ms. Ellis.”
I turn, my insides in a jumble. I do not want to talk to him. I definitely don’t want another interaction that leaves me feeling like living here was a bad move and my days are numbered.
But I can’t just run away. “Call me Sam.”
“Sam.” He halts a few feet from me, the kids hauling backpacks inside the front door of the house. “I’m sorry for earlier.”
“Thanks.” I won’t say no problem because it was genuinely not his business to be questioning me coming out of the doctor’s office. It doesn’t matter that it’s his brother’s practice, nor does it matter that I was only in there to chat with Evie for a minute.
I also won’t look him in the face, which is rude of me, but I’m just not up for the sight of him. It’s too much.
“I was over the line. It’s not an excuse, but I do want to explain I was crashing—hadn’t eaten and I’ve been preoccupied with some things at work. Anyway, again, it’s no excuse for the way I spoke to you, but I’d like to think it’s not how I normally behave.”
