Starting Over

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “How did you get the injury?”

  “Gunshot on the job.”

  “What?” she asked, shocked to hear this. She started to stretch the other side as she listened to him.

  “I was a cop in Dallas, went running onto a scene of a domestic with my partner and backup right behind us, and the guy started unloading his Glock. Took a hit to my chest and my arm, but it fucked up my hand.”

  “Your chest? What about the vest?”

  “Saved my life. I would have been back on the job, but my hand was so mangled with nerve damage. I just want to be able to hold a gun again and shoot it like I used to.”

  She sat up and put the resistance bands down.

  “I know what you mean. It sucks not being able to do the same job you did before.”

  “How about you? What’s that all about?” he asked.

  “I know you know,” she said with attitude and then got up, fixed her pants and top, and then grabbed her things. They headed out, saying good-bye to everyone.

  When they got to her car, his truck was parked right beside her. He stopped her. “What’s with the attitude? We were just talking.”

  She exhaled and looked away and then leaned against her car. She closed her eyes. She could smell his cologne, hell, feel his presence so close to her. “Listen, I do things myself. Handle the shit myself. You had a bad day Monday. Mine is today, okay?” she said to him and stared up into his eyes.

  He held her gaze and squinted. “And I believe it was you that told me sometimes you take ten steps forward and then ten steps back. Maybe even a tone of ‘suck it up’ was in there Monday,” he said to her, and she snorted and lowered her head.

  She ran her fingers through her hair, and he reached out and touched her hip. She paused, felt her throat tighten, and lowered her arms. He brushed his thumb against her skin under her shirt.

  “I can be such a prick most of the time, you have no idea,” he said to her, and now she squinted at him. He licked his lower lip, and she was focused on his eyes, his mouth, and the attraction she felt to him.

  “I don’t know where you came from, but it’s like you get it.”

  She shook her head. “I should go.”

  “Wait.” He squeezed closer and slid his hand from her hip to her hand.

  “How about coffee and conversation? I don’t do that ever. Normally I would head home and sulk.”

  She pursed her lips and sort of laughed. “So I’m not the only one.”

  “No, definitely not. Want to sulk together? Maybe get coffee and sit in the park? Have you been there yet?”

  “No.” He lowered down all sexy-like, which seemed out of character for him, but what did she know? She liked him, but she understood how this town worked, and she sure as shit didn’t need the aggravation. Plus, he seemed to be a lot older than she, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. However, as he remained holding her hand and then pressed closer, bringing that hand back slightly, and still caressing her skin, she couldn’t help but be aroused.

  “Come on, I’ll follow you back. We can park in town and then walk.”

  “Hmm, walking after this?”

  He squinted his eyes at her and brought his hand up to her cheek. He stroked her hair and brushed her jaw with his thumb. “Too sore?” he asked with concern that got to her. Didn’t she just say she took care of herself?

  “Fine, but no promises,” she told him.

  He slowly released her and stepped back. “Meet you in Cherry Hill,” he said.

  Then she watched him walk around his truck, and she got into her car, put her bag on the passenger seat, and then started up the car. The whole ride back she thought of taking off and losing him. Like she could do that. He lived in Cherry Hill, and he would find her. How lame. She could do this. She could remain casual. How old was he anyway? He seemed like midthirties maybe. Then she thought about his brothers, Jeb and Rhett. They had attitudes. Jeb in his Texas Ranger attire thought he was the shit and then some. Rhett, the mayor of Cherry Hill, was a fierce mayor. She heard some people talking about him on Tuesday in the boutique. Nothing bad really, but just that he was stubborn and set in his ways.

  The man was good-looking, older, too, and distinguished yet not typical of what one might think a mayor looked like. He was clean-cut, blondish-brown hair, blue eyes, a bit of facial hair, and built like a martial artist. Lean and muscular, and when he walked through town yesterday, she saw the many young women stopping to talk to him and he seemed to blow them off. What did she know, and why was she thinking about the three of them as if—

  She gasped. “Son of a bitch, this town.” She slammed her hand on the steering wheel and shook her head. “Not me. No way. Not happening. Not me,” she said and then drove through town and parked her car with Everett right behind her. She could do this. Be friends, nothing more. Resist anything more. She could. She was used to turning down men after dealing with jerk after jerk.

  She got out of the car slowly. Her hip ached.

  “Hey, you okay?” he asked her, and she nodded. She grabbed her bag and then locked up the car. “I could run and get the coffee and then meet you over there.” He pointed to a bench.

  “No, don’t be silly. Walking should loosen things up. Bailey worked me hard today,” she said as they waited to cross the street.

  He guided her with a hand at her waist, touching her skin beneath her T-shirt. She practically shivered from the sensations. They got to the sidewalk and saw a few people who looked at him. Then two women, young ones.

  “Everett, how are you?” one asked and eyed him over and then gave Adalee the once-over.

  “Hey,” was all he said and continued to walk.

  “Friends of yours?”

  “No way,” he said, and they entered the café.

  In there, people acted like they were shocked to see him out and then smiled at her like she was the reason. Maybe she was reading into things. She shyly stepped from his hold. He seemed to really like touching her or keeping her close, or maybe acting like she was with him. She caught him give a few guys she recognized dirty looks and they said hello to her.

  “Friends of yours?” he asked as they headed out with their coffee in hand.

  “No way,” she said, and they walked along the sidewalk toward the park.

  They found a nice spot in the shade, and she was impressed with the area.

  “This is so nice. They even have a bike route, too, huh?”

  “Yes, and a trail for running. It’s safer than the roadways or venturing through wooded areas and things.”

  “Hmm, I saw there’s a nice route behind my mom’s house. I walked a little bit of it yesterday. Trying to plan out some options when my hip is fully healed,” she told him.

  “So you’re confident it will heal completely?” he asked.

  She turned toward him and slid her leg under her rear to face him. “That’s my ultimate goal. To not feel that pain anymore, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said and looked away.

  “How about you? What do the doctors say about your arm and hand?”

  “At first, they didn’t give me much hope of full usage, but within a few weeks of PT, I gained back a lot.” He stretched his hand and then took a sip of his coffee. He added. “But I just can’t seem to grip the gun and pull the trigger.”

  “What about giving it a break for a while and maybe practicing with your left hand and learning to shoot?”

  “What?” he asked her like she was crazy.

  “I know it sounds nuts, but actually, you take the pressure off your right hand, your shooting hand and trigger finger, and you start focusing on your left hand and developing the skills to shoot with that hand. By the time you master it, maybe you’ve given the injured hand enough time to recoup.” She took a sip from her coffee.

  “That’s going to be hard.”

  “You seem like the type of man to challenge yourself.”

  “Hmm, and what about you? What’s your weakness
you’re trying to overcome after the shootout and dealing with the aftereffects?” he asked her, shocking her. She turned away, and he reached out and covered her thigh with his hand. “I’m sorry, I think I mentioned I can be a prick.”

  “No, it isn’t you. It’s me. I have a lot to prove.”

  “To who?” he asked, squinting.

  “Myself.” She stared toward the water.

  He turned toward her. “Our own worst enemies,” he said, and she looked at him and nodded.

  “So, what do you do when you aren’t doing PT?” she asked him.

  “Practice shooting.”

  She laughed. “Hence why your arm and hand aren’t healing, and Donny keeps reprimanding you.”

  He leaned back and exhaled. “I need to fucking do this,” he said and flexed his hand.

  “You will,” she said to him, and he glanced at her and their gazes locked. He was staring at her lips, and she wondered what it would feel like if he kissed her.

  “You have got the most stunning blue eyes I’ve ever seen. I bet you get that a lot.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. He reached out and cupped her chin and cheek. “If I kiss you, it kind of throws the whole friend thing out the window, right?” he asked, and she chuckled and leaned back. She stood up.

  “Where are you going?” Everett asked.

  “Exiting stage right before I make a mistake.” He stood up, too, stepped closer, and placed his hand on her hip. He slid it to her lower back and pulled her close.

  “Everett.”

  “God knows I’m not good enough for you. You could get any fucking guy you want, one closer to your age, but holy shit, Adalee, I’m feeling so much. Feeling in places I thought were dead.”

  “I just moved here, I don’t know many people, and I don’t want to make some kind of mistake.”

  “It can’t be a mistake if we both feel it.”

  “Heard that before,” she said to him, and then felt his touch as he used his fingers to slide slightly lower like he was itching to caress her ass. She realized that she wouldn’t mind that.

  “Jesus, what is going through your head?”

  He started to lower his mouth to her lips, and she turned. “Everett,” she whispered, and he kissed her neck, sent goosebumps along her skin, but she didn’t pull back. He scattered more kisses and whispered into her ear.

  “You smell so good, feel good this close to me.” He continued to kiss along her neck, then her cheek, and then the corner of her mouth. “Goddamn,” he said, eyes closed, and he didn’t let her go a few seconds.

  They remained like that, still holding their coffees in one hand and his hand practically over her ass, keeping her close to him and her hand on his hip. This wasn’t smart at all, yet it felt so good and right.

  Chapter 2

  Rhett Perkins was standing outside of the boutique when he saw Adalee drive up. She got out of her Mustang and walked to the trunk. He excused himself from talking to one of the local elderly couples so he could help her. “Need some help with those?” he asked, seeing the box she held in her arms and another one in the trunk.

  “Oh, that’s okay. I can just make another trip out,” she said, as if she didn’t want his help.

  “It would be my pleasure to help you, Adalee,” he said, eyeing her over. Today she wore a pair of shorts and a tank that really showed off her figure. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

  She got the first box and put it onto the sidewalk, and as she bent down, he wasn’t the only man looking at her ass. A horn honked, and some young guys in a pickup truck called out to her.

  “I love you, be mine!” the guy yelled, and other people laughed.

  She shook her head and then closed the trunk and locked it as he held the other box. It annoyed him that they did that, and more importantly, he was annoyed at the jealous feeling he had.

  “I could have helped with that,” Layla said, joining them by the door and holding it open.

  “No need, Layla, I saw Adalee pull up. What’s in here anyway? Smells really good,” Rhett said.

  “Oh, Adalee started making the homemade soaps yesterday and was still at it this morning. She was filling orders I’ve had for a while now,” Layla said.

  “Rhett, how did the meeting go?” Angelina asked as they started to unpack the boxes.

  “It was tough as usual. The Syvretsons are insisting that more needs to be done immediately by the board, but we’ve already exhausted ideas that they keep turning down.”

  “That is so frustrating. Is it even necessary to dedicate special seating in the town meetings for them? How crazy is that?” Layla said.

  “And to also ask for special seating at fairs and events and near the center during specialized festivities? Seriously, the kids should be the ones up front so they can enjoy the shows and things,” Angelina said in response.

  “I know, and we’ve tried talking to them, and I honestly think it’s just the Syvretsons causing the problem. If I could make them happy and find some way to appease their demands, it would make for happier town meetings and functions,” Rhett said.

  “Okay, I have to go to the pharmacy to pick up a few things. Did you need anything there, Mom?” Adalee asked her mom.

  “I don’t think so. Are you coming back later?

  “I want to go for a walk in the park, hence the shorts and sneakers.”

  “Okay, well, be careful, and we’ll see you later. Remember I want to leave about seven for Finnian’s.”

  “No problem,” she said.

  “I’m going to head out, too. See ya later, Mom.”

  “Bye, son,” Angelina said and then Rhett hurried up to catch up with Adalee.

  “Adalee, I’m heading that way. I’ll walk with you.”

  “You don’t have to. It sounds like you’re very busy today,” she said to him.

  As she turned, two men were walking by, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She gasped, and he felt the attraction to her. Holy shit did she smell really good. “You okay?” he asked her, and she stared up at him, looking a bit shorter maybe in the sneakers she wore, he wasn’t sure, but damn was she fit.

  “Fine,” she replied and swallowed hard and then turned away. They continued walking.

  “How are you liking the town so far? Any questions about anything?” he asked.

  “I’m good, and it’s nice, easy to navigate.”

  “Venturing out to Finnian’s, huh?”

  “Only because my mom wants to go see John and Keith. They own the place, right?” she asked as they approached the drugstore, and he opened the door and she smiled before she entered.

  “Afternoon, Adalee.” Jordan Curry, a local contractor, greeted Adalee with a wink as he pulled off his hat and checked her out.

  “Afternoon, Jordan,” she replied.

  “You going for a run or something?” he asked.

  “Just a walk in the park.”