What the hell is that about?
Just as I’m about to pull open the door to the café, it swings open. Mrs. Darrow walks out, her head turned over her shoulder as she talks to whoever is behind her. “—back?”
The hair on my neck rises at that one word as she steps out, Mrs. Lopez at her heels. Her voice is a low whisper, but not so low that I can’t hear it.
“And apparently he’s been seen going to the police station!” She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “He hasn’t been here more than a few days, and he’s already causing trouble.”
I press my lips together. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who is thehethey’re talking about. As far as I know, there is only one person who came back recently.
“Right. I mean—” She turns around only to come to a sudden stop when she sees me. Red colors her cheeks at being caught, but she quickly schools her expression. “Hi, Jessica! How are you doing?”
“Mrs. Darrow.” I nod at her before shifting my attention to the other woman. “Mrs. Lopez. Not as good as you, apparently. Then again, my schedule is packed most of the time these days. Keeping busy helps me stay focused. Wouldn’t want to put my nose in matters that are none of my business.”
Although my voice is sweet, and a smile is plastered on my face, neither of them miss my reprimand. Their cheeks heat in embarrassment—rightfully so—and they scurry off quickly, muttering something under their breath.
I glare at their retreating backs, noticing how they’ve huddled together, arms linked. Now they’re probably gossiping about me. Before I know it, people will start talking about how I’m being rude to my neighbors.
Shaking my head, I enter the café where I find people staring at me with wide eyes. There is nothing like piping-hot gossip that gets this crowd going.
Like seriously.
“What do you think he did?” Mary Sue asks, none too subtly.
“Who cares?” Lauren wiggles her brows. “At least he’s hotter than ever.”
I just stare at them, incredulous.
People need to mind their own fucking business.
Lauren catches me watching them. She flips her hair over her shoulder and smirks at me before leaning closer to her friend and whispering something to her.
Rolling my eyes at her, I make my way to the counter where Rose has been observing the whole interaction.
“Some people never outgrow high school,” she comments as she watches the two gossiping women.
“More than a few someones.” There is no holding back a snort. “Has it been like this the whole day?”
“Pretty much. You know how people can get around here. I swear, when I first returned to Bluebonnet, it felt like no matter where I went, people were talking about me. Unfortunately, there isn’t much you can do besides suck it up and wait for something else to blow up and grab their attention.”
“I guess there is that.”
If somebody knows about town gossip, it’s Rose Hathaway. She’s been the center of attention several times over the last few years. I still remember the judging whispers circling around when the news spread that she got pregnant shortly after starting her freshman year of college. The wagging tongues eased down once they got married shortly after. However, they picked up again when they moved back to Bluebonnet Creek when her now ex-husband wasn’t drafted to the pros due to an injury, and again a few days ago when he tried to kidnap their son. How sad people’s lives have to be that their best source of entertainment is somebody’s pain.
Those familiar brown eyes pop into my mind.
Is it true what they’re saying? Did Matthew really go to the police station? And if so, why?
“You want something?” Rose asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I give my head a little shake.
It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about it. Abouthim. Matthew Williams might be back causing a ruckus, but he’ll be gone before I know it. He doesn’t belong in this town. He never has.
“Yeah, can I get a latte? Double shot of espresso. I need a little pick-me-up before I stop at the center.”
“Coming right up.” Rose grabs a cup and goes to the coffee machine, pressing a few buttons. “Volunteering again?”
“Yeah, I try to go at least once a week.”
