Then she dropped the trash bag right there on the sidewalk and waltzed her sexy ass back into the law office.
Did I memorize the curve of her hips as she stomped away from me? You bet your sweet cheeks I did.
And I swear I thoughtrealhard about getting out of my truck and picking up her bag of trash. But this war of wills was too much fun, and in the end I just couldn’t make myself defuse the situation. So I drove away, leaving it where it sat.
I kind of wanted that bomb to go off.
Chapter 2
Shelby
“You all right?” Sara asked. She was the paralegal at Stillson Law, the tiny, small town law firm I was interning at. She was also my first friend in Deer Springs.
We’d just walked outside for our lunch break and I stopped short.
She turned to check on me and found me staring at the bag of trash sitting on the sidewalk. A pile of autumn leaves had already blown against it, making it look like it had been there for weeks instead of one short morning.
“Motherfucking asshole,” I hissed.
“What’s wrong?”
My heart started racing as I tried to find the words to describe the evil feud I’d been drawn into.
“It’s the guy who works for the garbage company. He’s driving meinsane.”
I skirted around the bag of trash as we walked the fifteen feet from the law office to the bakery.
“Garbage company. You mean Thatcher?” Sara held the door open for me as we went in.
The scent of pumpkin spice permeated the air, and I wanted to eat everything in sight.
I shook my head. “If that’s the owner, then no. I’m talking about the asshole who works for him.”
Sara got a confused look on her face. “No one works for him. Unless he hired someone. But that seems unlikely. It’s always just been him. Or his brother, Hudson, when he fills in.”
“This guy has a thick, dark beard and eyes that roam too much. He only seems to wear flannel. And his smile is… trouble.”
Sara plopped down at a corner table, propping her feet up on one of the empty chairs next to us. “That could describe both men. Does he have a tattoo of a bear on his forearm? Or a hawk?”
Slowly, I nodded. “Bear.”
I hated that I knew that. But I’d noticed the tattoo one week when we’d had words with each other. More specifically, I’d noticed the way his forearm rippled, making the tattoo shift as he lifted the bag of trash and slung it in the back of his truck.
Sara waved Emma over. “You’re definitely talking about Thatcher.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “So the guy who runs the trash route every week is theowner?”
“Yeah. Total sweetheart. And I hear he’s banging in the bedroom.” She added that last part with her lips quirked into a high grin.
“You’re a married woman. You don’t get to talk that way anymore,” I joked.
She shrugged a shoulder and grinned. “I can’t help what I’veheard. You should explore the man. When you find out if the rumors are true, report back with all the details.”
I started laughing and shook my head. “You’re crazy, Sara. I’m not fucking the trashman.”
Deer Springs was one of those ridiculously quaint, tiny towns that dotted middle America. And Sara was quintessential Deer Springs. Too sweet.
Even the owner of the law firm, Hank Stillson, was nice. And who’s ever met a nice lawyer before? I mean, I hadn’t.
