Broken Hart (A Cross Creek Small Town Novel Book 1)

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Broken Hart (A Cross Creek Small Town Novel Book 1) Page 3

by Kelly Collins


  She shifted her weight and set a beer in front of me but looked at the three still on her tray. “Want me to take these back?”

  I lifted a shoulder. I didn’t give a damn what she did. I considered drinking all four. If I overdid it, I’d have to have someone drive me home. My brothers would gladly pick me up at home in the morning and drop me at my truck.

  She seemed unsure and shifted her weight back to her left side. Her tongue slid across her lower lip, and I glanced away. Why was she trying to make small talk? We weren’t friends, and I didn’t want to engage with her. Hell, I’d have been happy if she never came back to Cross Creek in the first place.

  Now I’d have another constant reminder of our failed relationship. I picked up my beer and took a drink, looking into the glass instead of at her.

  “I’ll just leave them.” She set the drinks down and tucked the tray under her arm. “So, how have you been?”

  I stared up at her. Why would she even ask me that?

  Her eyes widened. Then she glanced over her shoulder at Roy. Quickly, as if worried she would change her mind, she sat down. Stiff as a board, and clearly uncomfortable, she said, “I’m sorry. Look, I’m having a rough day. I didn’t think I’d ever come back, and I certainly never thought I’d work in a bar, but here I am.” She spread her hands and let out a chuckle that held no humor. “I never imagined this was how we’d bump into one another, but this is my life, and I’m trying to make the best of it. Can we call a truce?”

  She thrust a hand in my direction, and I studied her, considering her words.

  Her brave smile wavered as the seconds ticked by, but I didn’t take her hand. She lowered it a fraction of an inch as her eyes misted over.

  I might not have shaken her hand, but I swallowed hard. “The beers are paid for, so it’s fine if you leave them. Can you add garlic knots to my order?” Internally, I heard my mother’s admonishing tone and added, “Please.”

  Relief flooded her features, but her shoulders drooped. “Garlic knots.” As she said the words like she was committing them to memory, she recoiled. “Be back with those in a few minutes.” With that, she walked away.

  “So, are you two … you know?” Benji’s voice hit my ears before he arrived at the table. “Are you going to rekindle the old flame?” His eyes ate up Kandra like she was a snack.

  I wanted to hit him. Why she put up with him back in high school was a mystery, and why she dealt with him now blew my mind.

  “Keep walking,” I snarled.

  I never liked Benji. He put me on edge, and the way he demanded interviews of new people in town and put their stories in the paper always had a predatory feel. He had the first say, and that gave others their initial impression, which didn’t seem fair. Shouldn’t people be judged on their own merit?

  Benji held both hands, palms up, to his shoulders in a classic sign of surrender. “Sorry. I’m going.” He walked off, fixing the cuffs of his blazer. The guy dressed like a college professor on a budget, with his garish sports jackets and button-down shirts in hues of lavender and sky blue. His brown leather shoes only added to the dull old man look, though the guy was a couple of years younger than me. His outfits never ceased to hurt my eyes.

  I watched him go, taking a long swig of my beer. When he hugged Kandra earlier, she had not been into it, but the douche hadn’t read the signals that were clear as day. Benji settled down in a chair beside Miranda, most likely trying to strong-arm her for an interview. She gave him an unreadable glance, but I knew the sheriff could handle herself.

  A thought flowed into the edges of my mind. What if Benji asked Kandra for a story? Everyone knew the girl who’d left as a photographer with a dream and wound up becoming a beautiful model living the high life in the fast lane.

  I heard rumors that she had gotten engaged to the guy who was her agent. It wasn’t a scandal, but it rubbed me the wrong way. Not because I gave a damn that she got engaged, but because her agent should have been impartial. It was his job to protect her and look after her best interests. He had power over her entire career and shouldn’t have been emotionally or physically involved with her.

  Why am I thinking about this? Kandra, her agent, her engagement, or whatever happened between them, meant absolutely nothing to me. And I certainly didn’t care about her and Benji. She wasn’t my woman, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to come between her and anyone else in her life. She might be back, but we weren’t back to the people we were before she left.

  I took another drink and noticed Miranda get out of her seat and head for the door. She and Roy eyed each other, and he gave her a slight nod. She scanned my table, and I’d swear there was a hint of disappointment in her expression before she left Benji sitting there alone and talking at her retreating back.

  “Here you go.” Kandra approached and placed the steaming garlic knots before me and exhaled.

  I stared at her, confused. Was she holding her breath?

  “Enjoy.” She turned to go, but I grabbed her wrist without thinking. The second my skin met hers, something crackled between us like a static charge before a lightning strike. I let her go as if she burned me, but she turned to face me with wide eyes.

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  Her delicate throat shifted as she swallowed. She looked over her shoulder at Roy, then dropped into the seat beside me.

  Across the room, Benji watched us.

  “Right now?” Her low voice strained like she was holding back her emotions. The defeated set of her shoulders made me wonder if she knew what I wanted to talk about.

  She leveled with me about her need to make the best of things, but I also needed that chance, and it would be easier without her in my path.

  “This is my favorite hangout.” I sipped my beer, and she blinked, then nodded. Her brows knitted together.

  “Makes sense, seeing it’s the only bar in town.”

  “My brothers and I come here almost every day after work.” I stared into my glass, refusing to look at her, but I was as aware of her as I’d be an angry bear or a rabid dog.

  “That’s great.” Her cheerful answer didn’t match the flat tone of her voice.

  “What I need you to do is make sure that someone else takes our orders. I can ask Roy later.” I glanced at her as raw panic filled her eyes, chased by the sheen of tears.

  “He’ll think I upset you.”

  Her ragged whisper made me shake my head.

  “I’ll assure him you didn’t. I just think it would be best for the both of us to keep our distance. I don’t want either of us to be uncomfortable. You understand, right?”

  Relief seeped into her features, but hurt gathered on the rim of her lower lids and threatened to overflow.

  She nodded. “Yes. Fine,” she said, but her tone implied my solution was everything but fine.

  Every man knew that when a girl said fine, it wasn’t.

  I could have kept her from standing. I could have explained myself—my fears and concerns. I could have told her why, but I didn’t stop her as she stood up and stared at me. She gripped the edge of the table like she might collapse. After a deep inhale, she spun around and left me alone to drown my sorrows in beer.

  Chapter Four

  Kandra

  Pain chewed at me, and I sucked in a deep, trembling breath as I walked behind the bar.

  “Time for your fifteen-minute break.” Roy’s voice drowned out the words—words circling my brain like ravenous vultures, ready to devour whatever last vestige of self-esteem I had left.

  “Thank you.” Without giving him a chance to look at my face, I slipped out the back door and into the alleyway. Breathing in the crisp evening air, I walked down the steps and put my back to the brick wall and slid down to the ground, my shirt catching on the rough parts as I made my way to the asphalt. The clean alleyway didn’t have a shred of trash, not even a stray cigarette butt. The only thing that shouldn’t have been there was the brilliant green moss growing on the edges of th
e concrete road and maybe … me.

  One of the things I loved about this place was the pride its residents took in the town. Every person had ownership.

  When I was younger, Cross Creek seemed like a suffocating place, but as an adult, I understood why my parents thought it was the perfect place to raise a family. It was safe and quiet, and everyone knew each other—everyone cared.

  Cross Creek didn’t come with big-town problems or attitudes. The people here looked out for one another.

  “I didn’t think it would be like this.” I pulled my legs to my chest and put my forehead on my knees.

  “Careful talking to yourself. People might start to think you’re crazy.” I recognized Gypsy’s voice but didn’t lift my head.

  “Maybe I am crazy.” Why had I come back? Sure, the town was a great place, but I knew I’d run into Noah again. Maybe in the furthest reaches of my heart and mind, I hoped we could be friends. Not that we could be together because everything had become so ridiculously complicated, but seeing him again stirred things inside me.

  The sound of something scraping the wall beside me was all the proof I needed that Gypsy had sat down next to me. “What makes you think that?” A tender hand patted my shoulder.

  “I came back. That’s pretty crazy.”

  “Seems like a smart move to me.” Her cheerful tone did nothing to brighten my mood since she didn’t know the whole story.

  “I thought Noah would have gotten over the anger and pain I caused him.” Tears stung my eyes.

  “Did you really think that, or did you just hope he’d magically forget?”

  I lifted both shoulders, then let them drop.

  “Honey, he was gutted when you left. You hurt him because he loved you and he missed you terribly.”

  Loved—past tense. Somehow that stung more than anything else, but what could I expect? I left and moved on. I made choices that I’d have to live with all my life. “Thanks,” I said as kindly as I could while fresh tears clung to my lashes.

  Ugh, would I be a mess like this all the time?

  “I don’t feel like I was helpful,” Gypsy said.

  “It’s not you. It’s just … a mess. All of it.” I wasn’t about to get into details. I could hardly admit them to myself, much less anyone else.

  “I thought he might keep me at arm’s length because I hurt him. That is an understandable reaction, but he’s downright cold and verging on mean.”

  “Of course, he’d be guarded. He’s afraid you’ll hurt him again. I bet he still loves you. I could ask him if you want.”

  “No!” I grabbed her arm to stop her as she stood up. “Please don’t,” I begged.

  She nodded, her kind eyes sparkling. “Okay, I won’t ask him.”

  I let her go, and she walked toward the door before turning back to me. “You can ask him yourself. I’ll send him out.” With that, she slipped back inside, and I groaned.

  There was no way she would talk him into coming out. Noah could barely look at me, much less exit the bar to speak to me.

  Besides, I wasn’t sure I could take more of his hostility, no matter how deserved it might be.

  The last words he said were still on repeat like a crappy song in my brain. Roy’s is my favorite hangout. My brothers and I come here almost every day after work. What I need you to do is make sure that someone else—anyone else—takes our orders and comes to our table. I’m letting you know first, but I’ll tell Roy later.

  The words still smarted. I hung my head, feeling humiliated. Our past was so bad he couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing me. No, it was worse than that. He thought I’d ruin his favorite place.

  Not that I had a lot of choices, but maybe I shouldn’t have come back.

  The door opened, and Noah’s tall, muscular frame filled it before moving down the steps toward me. I refused to look him in the eyes, and instead, put my head back down. “Did Gypsy put you up to this?” How the heck did she talk him into coming out here to speak to me?

  “Yes.” His careful, neutral voice didn’t betray a hint of what he was thinking, not that I needed to know. I could imagine whatever I wanted about Noah, but the fact that he was here, beside me, had to mean something. Maybe there was hope of a friendship for us, after all.

  “Look, I’m sorry for the things I said to you before I left. I burned bridges, and I regret it.” I hadn’t intended things to sound so bad, but I could close my eyes and still see the hurt in his when he begged me not to go and promised we’d be happy in Cross Creek. I told him I needed more than the town could offer—more than he could offer. Even now, the thought of it made me cringe.

  “I’m not the same person I was when I left.” A lump the size of a garlic knot stuck in my throat, and it took two swallows to get it down.

  “I know. You’re a world-famous model, and up until two weeks ago, you were engaged to your agent. The photographer with a dream became the subject in magazines.”

  I sucked in a deep breath as the razor’s edge of pain sliced me open. “You heard about that, huh?”

  “How could I not? For a minute, you were news. You were a fresh face with promise and talent, and you threw away everything for an agent that ran you into the ground.” His harsh words lanced through me like an arrow to the stomach—a gutshot and not even a clean kill.

  “He didn’t run me into the ground.” Why was I protecting Anthony? “I started out taking pictures of models. Then Anthony saw me and told me I should be in front of the camera.” Thinking back, he’d been so sweet and sincere, or at least he seemed to be.

  Noah snorted. “The guy was a predator. He was threatened by your skill, so he eliminated the competition.”

  “He was an agent, not a photographer.” It was sweet that Noah thought so highly of my photography. “Are you saying you think he lied to me? That I shouldn’t have been in front of the camera?” I lifted my head to look at him.

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. Obviously, you’re beautiful. You don’t need to fish for compliments.” His frosty tone chilled me to the bone.

  Noah had always supported my dream to be a photographer. I could remember days spent stretched out on my bed, showing him the newest pictures I had taken. He confided that my images made him feel something. Now all he felt around me was anger.

  Once, I showed him a picture I’d captured of an intimate family moment of him with his brothers and father laughing, and he said it was his favorite. That image still lived on the SD card in my camera because I never deleted it or several others of him and his family.

  “So, how is your family?”

  He tensed up and didn’t respond at first, and then said, “A lot has changed since you left, and I don’t feel like getting into it right now.”

  “I get it.” I tilted my head back and rested it on the wall. “Nothing is working out as I expected. When I left, I thought I had all the answers.” I snorted. “Now, I’m pretty sure I didn’t know anything.”

  “Were you happy?”

  “I thought I was happy with Anthony—kind of. He was good to me for a while.” Not at the end, though. He tossed me aside like moldy bread. “Modeling was fun. It was a new challenge, and a skill I didn’t have at first. I had to work my ass off, but I enjoyed it.”

  Noah sat quietly, but when I glanced at him, I noticed he seemed to be hanging on every word. His ability to listen warmed my heart and perforated it at the same time.

  “Sadly, in the modeling industry, a woman is over the hill before she hits thirty. I was lucky to continue getting jobs for as long as I did. When the calls stopped coming in, I didn’t mind, because I thought I had Anthony.” Fresh tears stung my eyes, and my throat burned like I consumed rolls of sandpaper and chased them down with shots of vodka. “He always said I was charming and talented. He used to call me beautiful like it was my name.”

  Noah let out a grunting noise that told me exactly what he thought of Anthony.

  I continued talking like he hadn’t
accurately figured out my ex.

  “But in the end, it didn’t work out.” I couldn’t articulate what actually happened. Anthony had left me for someone younger, more charming, and far more beautiful. She didn’t have an ounce of fat or modeling talent in her whole body. Her only gift was her mouth, and it had nothing to do with her smile.

  “Now I’m back in Cross Creek.” Sitting in the alley behind Roy’s Bar on the ground with the first love of my life made everything come full circle.

  I studied the white clouds slowly floating across the darkening sky. Where would they go? Would they move someplace new, or would the blackness devour them and leave nothing behind? “You know, all my best memories here are with you. It’s strange coming back to find out you hate me.”

  “Do you blame me?”

  Inside, I heard the shattering of my heart. “No.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. “Why did you come out here?”

  He didn’t answer, and I wondered what Gypsy had said to get him to join me.

  There was something else that tickled the edge of my mind, and I had to know.

  “Roy said if he hadn’t stepped in when Benji was talking to me, table eight would have. Do you have a problem with Benji?” Did he have that same nagging sense of unease with the town columnist?

  “I don’t care who you choose to see or talk to.” Noah’s crisp tone didn’t give me the backup I hoped for.

  We sat in silence for another moment, and then I stood. “My fifteen is probably over. Thank you for listening.” My feet throbbed painfully. I was ready for this incredibly difficult first shift to be over so I could go home, run a bath, and cry.

  As I walked toward the back door, I looked back at Noah. His eyes locked on mine, and emotions washed over me.

  He once loved me, and seeing him again made me realize I never stopped loving him. Once you let someone into your heart, they stayed there forever. Noah would always own a piece of me—the young, innocent, and foolish piece. The heart of a girl who thought everything was butterflies and rainbows. Silly girl.

 

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