I swallow a lump in my throat because I’ve always had a family. A bit fucked up, like everyone else’s, but a family regardless.
“Lonely Kurt!” Marina yells enthusiastically from the kitchen.
Kayla goes to pack my order, leaving me with my thoughts about the mysterious woman I know nothing about but who seems to plague my mind recently regardless. When she places the paper bag in front of me, I take it with a quiet ‘thanks’ and rise from the stool.
Before I go, Kayla calls my name.
I turn around and nod in acknowledgment.
“She does need a family.” It’s all she says before heading back to the kitchen.
Even more reason to stay away from her. Lust is one thing, but being more is something entirely different, and I’m not built for that. Years ago, I wanted a family of my own. Wanted a wife and kids, but those dreams are long gone. Now I just want to make sure everyone in this town is happy and safe, and I can’t do that if I have to worry about my own family as well. I know myself.
Besides that, I’m a possessive motherfucker when I want something, and a woman like Josie might not like it. I’ve dated before and didn’t like sharing, but somehow, I just know that with her, it would be on a totally different level. I’d be jealous of the fucking air she breathes. I also know we’d be fucking on every surface I’d find, because she seems like the fantasy woman of my dreams.
So I don’t even entertain the idea.
Getting into my truck, I notice the small red car parked down the street. Maybe Jennica can wait a few extra minutes. I turn off the engine and wait for Josie to appear.
I wait and wait.
And wait.
It’s been thirty minutes, and nothing is happening. Getting more aggravated by the second, I walk toward her car to see what’s going on. I don’t know where she is in my own town twice in one day.
Walking past her car, I hear my name being called. I internally pray to the sky to strike me with lightning because anything is better than being stopped by Ashley, the local self-appointed “blue blood” who has caused so many problems for people close to me. But she is still a citizen of this town, so I stop and wait for her to catch up with me.
“Sheriff,” she purrs, cocking her hip to the side. “I have an issue with my security system, and I would love for you to come and check it.” She places her hand on my forearm, and I try to step to the side, but she digs her fingers into my skin, keeping me in place. The only way I can get rid of her touch is by making a scene.
While I’m figuring out how to pry Ashley’s fingers off my arm, Josie chooses exactly this moment to come out of the hardware store carrying two big plastic bags. The moment she notices me, her eyes zero in on Ashley’s hand on my arm. They narrow just as her lips purse tighter. Her chin lifts up, and she starts walking to her car and therefore directly toward us, because we’re standing right by the passenger door.
“Excuse me,” she says in an annoyed voice as she walks up to the door.
Ashley slowly turns to face Josie.
“May we help you?”
Josie’s eyes shoot to my face at the mention of ‘we,’ and I think I hate Ashley a little more at this moment. Prying her hand off my arm, I ask Josie, “Do you need help with that?”
She sends me a quick glance and shakes her head.
Ashley laughs forcefully. “Too good for our small town?”
I’m about to divert everyone’s attention somewhere else because everyone knows how nasty Ashley can be, but Josie isn’t local and isn’t aware of that. She might feel uncomfortable at the jab, especially after I said something very similar at some point.
But Josie gracefully puts her bags on the seat, fixes the wavy strand away from her eye, and turns toward Ashley with a stony face even I’m scared of.
“Let’s make one thing clear. I’m from a small town,” my eyes widen at her declaration because I was sure she was city-born, “and I know how one operates. We’re going to shut this down before it begins.” Despite her mentioning a small town, her New York accent’s peeking through. “You leave me alone, and I leave your fake Prada bag,” she points at Ashley’s bag hanging off her elbow, “and your fake Jimmy Choos alone.” Now she points at Ashley’s shoes. “Do we have a deal?” She raises her brow.
For the love of everything, I have no idea how she can tell those things are fake. Or what designer they’re from, really. But I’m enjoying how Ashley’s face turns pale while her nostrils flare in silent anger.
“They’re not fake,” she says as her eyes shoot to me.
“Do we have a deal?” Josie repeats, clearly losing patience.
“Yes,” Ashley hisses through gritted teeth, and Josie’s face stretches into a mask of fake happiness.
“A very wise decision. And by the way, I love your bag.” She points at the bag again. “You two have a lovely day!” she says to both of us with a plastic smile as she gets into the driver’s seat. I watch how her hips sway in that dress of hers, making me swallow my saliva. So much fucking class in that woman.
