“Finish your breakfast, or I’ll give you more,” she orders, pointing at the cooling plate on the table.
“And I won’t say no.” I dig into my food, telling her about my adventures yesterday and this morning between bites. When I reach the bit about Mrs. Roberts, she starts laughing.
“I wish I saw his face. No, wait, her face. No, his.” And she laughs again, smacking her open palm on the table.
“That was a sight to see.” I finish my story and find her chewing on the inside of her cheek. “What?”
“Nothing.” She blinks innocently even though I know she’s withholding something she wants to say.
“Alicia.” My voice turns stern, and she just giggles.
“No, really. It’s just you’re probably the only person who can call him out on his shit.” She thinks for a moment and adds, “And maybe Leila. Leila is never shy with her words. She just never pushes them on you, you know?”
I look at her. “And I do?”
She lets out a belly laugh. “Sometimes you do, but that’s precisely what Ken needs.”
“Why would he need it, and why from me?” I ask, not understanding what she means.
She smiles mysteriously and shifts topics. “How did the meeting with Archie go?”
“Oh-h-h.” I pinch the bridge of my nose before going into detail about how much needs to be done. When I start talking about the woodwork, I remember the bed and breakfast table and am about to ask Alicia about it when she offers herself.
“I’m sure Mark can take care of the woodwork for you. He has brilliant hands.” Her cheeks take a rosy glow, and I start laughing.
“I bet he does. Actually, I saw some of his work at the bed and breakfast, and now I suspect that his brilliant hands also make some of the things in this place?” My brows raise in question, and she nods proudly.
“Almost everything. He’s really good with it.”
“Yeah, I’ll need him then. Once I figure out the rest.” I cover my face with my hands and groan. “IfI figure out the rest.”
She cackles and moves to refill her coffee. “You will. You’ll figureeverythingout.”
Glancing at her after such a vague remark, I push my empty mug toward her to request more coffee. “Keep ’em coming, baby.”
I’m tempted to ask about the Sheriff’s piercing because I’m sure there are some rumors circling around—it’s a small town, after all—but it might be something he wanted to keep to himself, considering the feature is new if it constantly itches and hurts.
I’m sure my own cheeks change color, imagining the type of jewelry he might have. I think it just became the eighth wonder for me, despite the man it’s attached to.
ChapterThirteen
KENNETH
Dropping her off with bare feet and a naked ass was a disaster.Sheis a disaster. Since the moment she showed up here, I’ve had so many angry outbursts. More than I’ve had in years. And she’s only been here for a couple of days.
Last night made it clear—I must stay away from her for a number of reasons, keeping my sanity intact being number one.
She rattles me. She makes me lose my cool. She makes me want to throw her on the table for a rough fuck one minute and throttle her the other. Or maybe both at the same time. And I’m not known to be rough. I’ve actually been called a very gentle and thorough lover. But I don’t want to be gentle with her. I want to punish her for her big mouth and for her naked pussy moving on top of my chair in my house. For her constantly calling me out on the things no one else ever does. For that stubbornness every time she contradicts me on every single thing I say.
I haven’t known the woman long enough for her to cause such strong emotions, and I don’t plan to see how much stronger they can become over time. Staying away is the only option.
I call Bobby, the guy who owns the only local tow truck company, and ask him to meet me next to Josie’s car. I head that way in hopes that I’ll be able to get there before he does. I give Jennica a quick call on the way to ask if we have anything urgent, but she says that I’m good for a couple of hours, no one is banging on the door for a change. I don’t tell her I already got some of that this morning, and Josie fought off the demon named Mrs. Roberts on her own.
Mrs. Roberts has a habit of banging on my door at least three times a week. The majority of her complaints are about Mr. Cricket, who has an early stage of dementia. But according to her, he’s faking it and was put on this planet to steal her newspaper or the shoes she leaves at the front door. My theory is that she leaves them there just so he can ‘borrow’ them.
Mr. Cricket was my elementary school teacher, and I could never bring myself to charge him with anything. Even before he was officially diagnosed, though the signs were already there. So yes, Mrs. Roberts has been my pest for nearly a year now. I have other people who come in to complain all the time, and it just so happens that Josie met the very one who’s a professional in starting the rumor mills. I bet by the time I dropped Josie off at Alicia’s, half of the town already knew that she spent the night at my place, and most of them probably thought she was totally naked when she opened the door.
I should expect a call from my mother by midday, if not earlier.
