"I should get going," Carly said. "I have to get to work for the lunch rush." She adjusted her grip on the basket before carrying it off to the counter to pay for her groceries.
I glanced around carefully, looking for the aisle Josiah was in. I found him loading packets of meat into his basket. Trying to look like I wasn't approaching him, I moved around the store, looking at the items on the shelves, stopping here or there to add things to my basket.
"Are you going to keep pretending you're not watching me?" Josiah asked without glancing my way.
"What makes you think I'm watching you?" I picked up a packet of chicken breast, pretending to inspect it carefully before placing it with my other items. I had a couple of ideas of ways I could use it for dinner. Hopefully none that involved burning it to a crisp.
"Someone's always watching me," he said. "They have no fucking idea how to be subtle."
"Including me?" I turned to face him.
He smelled like leather and wood smoke with a hint of spice. Cinnamon? I hadn't noticed a scar down one of his cheeks before, but a line of pale stubble amongst the dark hinted at a long one. What was it from? I couldn't tell, but the ragged nature of the line suggested the injury wasn't a tidy one. Probably not a knife to the face then.
He sighed. "Did you want something, city girl?" His dark eyed gaze slid to my face, then slowly down my body, taking in my cute dress and boots. Making me feel like I was naked in the middle of the store.
"I know what happened with Coral Clarke," I said softly.
"You have no fucking idea," he growled.
"I know it wasn't your fault," I insisted.
"It might as well have been," he said. "Don't feel sorry for me. I fucked up and she paid the price."
The bitterness and self-loathing in his voice was nothing short of heartbreaking. He seemed to hate himself as much as most of the town did. Of course, if you spent twenty years being told you screwed up, eventually you're going to believe it yourself.
"It was just an accident," I said. "You shouldn't be beating yourself up about it."
"Shouldn't I?" He took a couple of steps closer to me. Close enough to feel the heat of his body. To see the seams of his black T-shirt starting to fray with the effort of holding his biceps in. The smell of spices was stronger now, like early fall mixed with leather.
I held my ground. "What if you let it go? What if you forgave yourself for what happened? Wouldn't that be better than living with the shadows of an accident?"
He locked his gaze on mine, like he was trying to figure me out. Trying to understand why I was saying the things I was. Why didn't I hate him like everyone else did?
Finally, he leaned back, away from me. "It doesn't matter if I do. People around here, they never forget. They don't forgive. They don't get past anything. They decide what they know is what they know and nothing will change their mind."
"You make them all sound horrible," I said.
Even his laugh was bitter. "Because they are. They like to think they look out for each other, but how long do you think it would be before they turn on each other after something else bad happens?"
"I don't think you're giving them enough credit," I admitted.
Sure, they gave each other shit, but they had each other's backs. They'd take care of each other if they needed to, like we had with Connor's dad. No one even thought about walking away and letting the pub fall apart.
"If you're still around in twenty years, you'll feel different," he said. "Riley, Connor, men like them." He curled his lip. "They only want one thing from you. They want you to fall for them. When you care about them so much it hurts, they'll get bored and turn their backs. Right now? You're a novelty to them. Someone new to fuck with. A warm pussy to stick their cocks in. If you know what's good for you, you'll go back to the city before that happens."
"Are you ‘men like them?’" I asked.
Falling for either of them hadn't crossed my mind. Honestly, I hadn't given much thought to what Connor meant when he said I belonged to him. I hadn't taken it all that seriously. We were playing around, that was all. Wasn't it?
"Sweet cheeks, all men are," Josiah said, looking almost amused. "Especially around here. Winter is coming and no one wants their dick cold."
"Seems like keeping it in your pants might be safer," I said. "Wouldn't want them to freeze and fall off."
He laughed, but the sound wasn't full of humour. It wasn't contagious. I didn't want to laugh with him, I wanted to feel bad for him.
He believed what he was saying, but I wasn't sure I bought it. Okay, plenty of men were fuck boys, but Josiah? He seemed almost as broken as Gavin Clarke. Instead of taking care of him, the town turned their collective back. That would screw with anyone's head.
I should know. It's how my mother and stepfather treated me. Like I was barely there. Like they wouldn't care if I disappeared overnight. Had they even noticed I wasn't in the city anymore? They hadn't called to check on me. Chances were, they didn't even know it yet. I should feel sad about that, angry, but instead I was resigned.
