“Cheer up, Willow. Maybe if you drink enough sweet tea, it will turn you sweet.” Liza doesn’t hold back.
“No chance in that,” Mrs. Cavanaugh says.
Willow’s mouth drops. I kind of feel sorry for her. Not really.
I pour Willow a glass of tea and hand it to her.
She takes a dainty sip and cringes. “That sure is sweeter than I remember.”
Faith pats Willow’s arm. “I will hand it to you. You’re back one week, and you’re already getting your accent back.”
Liza laughs. “How... convenient.”
Willow turns on her stool and stares at Liza Jane, who is not intimidated in the least. “What’s your problem?”
Liza smiles, and if I didn’t know better, I would think it was genuine. “Bless your heart. You really are dumb as a box of rocks. You know exactly what my problem is. The nerve of you coming back after all this time.”
Jolene stands. “Maybe we should go. This was a bad idea.”
Willow’s face turns red. “This is my home too, remember?” Her chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths.
And I thought the Jolene catfight was tense. I walk around the counter to stand between the two with my back to Liza.
“Willow, I think you should leave. Don’t worry about paying for your tea as I’m sure it wasn’t to your satisfaction.”
She grabs her designer purse so hard, her knuckles turn white.
Faith snorts. “You told everyone you knew that Atlanta was your home, and when you moved to Chicago, you ditched that accent faster than you ditched my brother.”
She gulps down her iced tea and slams the plastic cup onto the counter. “That’s none of your business.”
Faith gently places her paper coffee cup onto the counter, licks her lips, and with the most syrupy voice I have ever heard, she replies, “When you ditched him the day before the wedding, it became my business. Now do what you need to do in town and get the hell out.”
Willow blinks. “You don’t scare me.”
Liza pushes me out of the way, but I push back. This is my store, and I have to be the adult in the establishment. I hope Mrs. Cavanaugh can help me out because I’m not sure what to do. I am like a fly on the wall, and at any minute, I’m going to get squashed.
Over my shoulder, Liza yells to Willow, “That’s because you don’t learn fast. You should be scared of me.”
“Stop!”
All the women in the store freeze and stare my way.
The door chimes, and Mel walks in. Even in her rumpled, slept-in scrubs, she still oozes class.
Willow’s eyebrow rises far into her hairline. “Melanie?” She rests her bag back on to the napkin-lined counter.
Mel’s stare scares the crap out of me. “It is Doctor, thank you very much.”
Oh my. Mel never wants to be called that.
Mel slides onto the stool next to Liza.
“Hey, Mel,” I say. “I was about to call 911 when you showed up. Lots of hostility in the air.” I give everyone in the room a death stare, daring anyone to start more crap. While I love the way they cannot stand Willow, I have a business to run. They need to take their catfight somewhere else.
Mrs. Cavanaugh wipes the counter, the dish towel sliding dangerously close to Willow’s Louis Vuitton purse.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Would you like something to drink, Mel?”
Mel gives Mrs. Cavanaugh a kiss. “Thank you. Tea would hit the spot.”
Liza points at the door.
Oh dear. Round two.
“You need to leave now, and if you dare mess with Gunnar, I promise you, it won’t be pretty.”
Mel snorts. “Ditto.”
Faith smirks at her. “What they said.”
Willow turns her attention to me and shows off an evil grin. “You have no idea why I’m here. Maybe you should ask him.” She picks up her purse and swings her hips as she walks toward the door with Jolene at her heels. “Nice to meet you, Andie. If you see Gunnar, tell him I’ll give him his jacket back tonight. He’s such the gentleman.”
The bells chime so loud, I think they are going to fall onto the floor. Her cryptic “you should ask him” rings in my ears. I would ask him if he would ever show his face again. For once, the Biddy’s Blog was right about something. He has been with her. Blood rushes to my head, and my ears burn with anger.
Mel slams her empty tea glass down on the counter. “Shit.”
“Wow.” I motion to the women in my shop. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Liza pulls out her phone and texts something. She slams the phone down. “That bitch gets my dander up. I hate her.”
Faith stares at the door. “No more than me.”
“No need getting all riled up.” Mrs. Cavanaugh refills Liza’s coffee cup. “She’ll leave soon enough when she realizes she done pissed up the wrong tree.”
“I don’t understand, and I don’t think I want to,” I say as I collect all the empty glasses.
Liza points at the door. “That skank had the best guy in the world wrapped around her little finger, and she cheated on him. Over and over, and he wouldn’t believe me.”
Mel snorts. “Wouldn’t believe me, either. I even caught her multiple times in college, but he thought I was trying to start trouble.”
Faith shudders. “She’s evil.”
Liza agrees. “I threatened to tell him if she didn’t, and finally the night before the wedding, she broke it off. I’m glad she did, but she humiliated him in front of everyone.”
My heart breaks for Gunnar. He is the total package, and to be treated that way makes my stomach turn. Hearing this makes me think this is why he’s been staying away. Her reappearance has probably made him have second thoughts about getting involved with anyone else, especially me.
Faith growls. “Pissed me off that she said she couldn’t marry a cop. It was not fittin’ for her image. What a—ugh, I don’t want to insult all the female dogs in this town.”
Mel paces the floor. “All she had to say was she had a change of heart and didn’t want to get married. But she blasted him about being so small town. That was the one thing she harped on about him that he wouldn’t bend about. It ended up being his saving grace.”
“It was terrible,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said. “He would come here, and Mary Grace and I fed him, let him go on and on about how much he loved Willow. All the time, we wanted to jostle him and say that her dumping him was the best thing that could have happened to him. She would never deserve him. Not in a million years.”
Liza stands and heads for the door. “Come on, Mel, Faith.”
The three rush out of the shop faster than girls shopping on Black Friday.
Mrs. Cavanaugh wags her head. “That Willow girl is full of spite.”
There has been way too much girl drama today. I thought I left all that mess behind in Boston. I’m not about to fight someone over a stupid guy, but Gunnar isn’t some ordinary guy. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never longed for someone to touch me. His kisses take me to another place. And if he would ever show his face again, I’ll remind him of what he’s missing. After I chastise him for ignoring me for an entire week.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Gunnar
Liza slams the door of the hardware store so hard, the back two legs of the chair I’m balancing on almost slide out from under me. She stomps up to me and Jake, throws her hand on a hip, and huffs. Mel’s right on her heels. Uh-oh.
“Uh-oh,” Jake says under his breath.
Liza blows her bangs out of her eyes. “Tell me you aren’t getting back with that... that... ugh! I can’t even say her horrible name.”
I hold my hands out in defense. “Whoa. Slow down.”
“Is it true what the Jacksons are saying? You’ve seen Willow since she’s been back, haven’t you?”
I fumble with my holster, mostly for fear she may jerk my gun away and shoot me with it when she hears what I have to say. “Yes, I�
��ve seen Wills.”
Liza groans. “That pet name disgusts me. She’s pretty willing and able, all right.”
I clench my jaw. I know Willow hurt me, and when I saw her again, all those feelings, both good and bad, bubbled back up to the surface, but I did care for her at one point, so she can’t be all bad. “Be nice.”
Mel rolls her eyes.
Liza gets in my face, and Jake has to pull her away. “Be nice? Are you kidding me? She needs to be nice. Her coming around the coffee shop, sizing up Andie. God, it was pathetic. She practically pissed on Andie’s leg to mark her territory.”
Jake chuckles, and I pop him on the arm.
“Is Andie okay?” If Willow pulls any shit with Andie, I might blow my stack. And she better not have said anything about Northwestern. I can’t believe I’m even entertaining the idea of taking Willow’s offer to have my record cleared. The thought of being near her on a regular basis again nauseates me. But to be able to finish what I started is enticing.
“No. Andie can hold her own. She wasn’t intimidated by your ex in the least.”
Of course she can, but Willow is a snake and knows how to cozy up to someone right before she bites the person’s head off.
The door slams closed again. Shit. Faith stomps my way. I can hardly deal with Liza and Mel. When Faith’s in the mix, I might as well crawl into a fetal position and cry uncle.
“What the hell is your problem, Gunnar James?”
I throw my hands up in disgust. “Calm down, Faith Marie.” If she can start pulling out the middle names, so can I. “She came by last night.”
Faith huffs. “I’m not calming down. That girl is—”
“Enough.” I close my eyes and do my best to calm my breathing.
Faith takes me by the hand and guides me back into the chair. She sits on Jake’s desk in front of me and holds my hands in hers. Before she speaks again, she takes a deep, calming breath. “I know how you’re wired. She was your first true love.”
I close my eyes. It is completely embarrassing talking about my love life with my sister, sister-in-law, cousin, and best friend. It’s obvious they have nothing better to do.
“You believe in forever love, and she’s... not wired like that.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I hate it that my voice cracks. Shit.
“I don’t know why she’s back. All I know is she needs to get out of Dodge fast before you spiral down that rabbit hole again. Do you really want another year of depression followed by three more years of self-harm with every ho-bag in the South?”
She makes me sound like I was a man-whore, which if I’m being completely honest with myself, I kind of was. I would rather not think of those years. But Willow cut me so deep, I wanted to die, and when that wasn’t going to happen, I wanted to forget. If I had the smell of every girl in a hundred-mile radius of me, maybe I couldn’t smell her.
“No.”
Jake clears his throat. “Why is she back?”
“She said she could get me a job as a Northwestern policeman. She thought that would make me happy, and we could try again. She says she misses me.” There’s no need to tell them all the details.
Liza sits on the edge of my chair and wraps her arm around me. “Oh, boo hoo hoo. Cry me a river. She doesn’t get it, does she?”
I shake my head. I love my job, but that’s not what keeps me here. I love this town. My family is here. My soul is here. But Willow knows everything.
“What did you tell her?” Faith’s eyes plead with me to say I told her no.
“I told her no.”
They let out a collective sigh.
“Y’all need a hobby. I’m not that stupid. Give me some credit, okay?” Although the thought of never having that dark cloud over me anymore is a little tempting.
Jake takes another puff of his cigarette. “Bruce, with Willow, there is always an ulterior motive. You know that.”
“Yep.” Her motives are worse than they think, but I can’t tell them that. I can’t let them know Willow has some leverage over me. She may think she does, but she doesn’t really want me. She doesn’t want anyone else to want me. I’m still pissed at myself for letting Willow in my house this week. She wormed her way back into my town, my life, and into my bed. Thank God she left me alone on the couch and didn’t try anything. Before I woke up this morning, she was gone. She thinks I’ve been waiting for her to want me again. But the truth is, I’ve been waiting for the right person to want me, and I think I’ve found her. If only I can accomplish with Andie what I never could with Willow—give her a reason to stay. That starts by not avoiding her.
I lean over and kiss my sister on the cheek. I whisper to her, “Thanks, sis, but I’ve got this. We’ll talk later.”
She kisses me back. I kiss Liza, and she squeezes my shoulders. Mel hugs me, then I lean in to fake-kiss Jake, and he pushes me away.
“If this powwow is over, I need to go to work. We’ve got to have some sort of law in this town.”
They salute me, Jake’s being the middle-finger salute. I love my family. I won’t put anyone ahead of them ever again. All I have to do is avoid Willow, make sure Andie knows how I feel about her, and convince her to stay. I’m not sure which one is the hardest. The middle one will be the most fun, so I’ll start there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Andie
Stanley stuffs a third muffin in his mouth while he wags his head to the beat of the rock song blaring from my cell phone. He says he concentrates better if Lynyrd Skynyrd plays at twenty decibels. I’m getting used to the music and caught myself humming “give me back my bullets” a time or two over the last week. I write a sentence on the whiteboard and turn it toward him.
Since Willow’s “mark her territory” visit yesterday, I’ve had a lot of time to think. First off, if she’s what Gunnar is attracted to, then that knocks him down a peg or two on the hot-o-meter. And secondly, I’m not jealous of her at all. In my worst drunken state, I was a nicer person than she is completely sober. I would never cheat on someone then decide years later that I have a right to come back to claim the prize. That’s not how life works. If he wants her, I hope they are eternally miserable together.
Liza assures me there’s nothing going on between Gunnar and Willow, but until I hear it from him, I have to assume there is the slightest possibility that Willow’s words and Biddy’s Blog have at least an ounce of truth to them.
Handing Stanley the marker, I say, “Circle the nouns.”
He studies the board, and with a big grin on his face, he circles “squirrel” and “tree.”
“Excellent. Now which word is the verb?”
He draws a circle around the word “ran” and slams the marker down on the counter. He sits back, proud of himself.
“Woo-hoo.” I scurry around the counter and give him a big hug. I jerk him off the stool, and we boogie to “Sweet Home Alabama,” his favorite tune. “Say, ‘Pissa!’”
“Pissa! Whatever that means.” He swings me around, his gut jiggling from all the dancing and too many muffins.
“You are going to pass. I know it. Just keep Jolene away from me, okay?” I rub the cheek she slapped at the county fair a week ago. I can still feel the sting.
“She thinks I’m working double shifts.” He dances around me, when the door chimes go off. I forgot to lock the door again.
Gunnar raises an eyebrow as he drops his gym bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Stan, I didn’t you know you had it in you.”
Stanley blushes. I throw a dish towel at Gunnar. He can’t come in here a week later, smelling like his ex, and think I will want to play.
With a stutter, Stanley says, “We, uh, we were, uh...”
I pat Stanley’s back. “Go ahead. Tell him. You should be very proud of yourself.”
Gunnar’s eyes widen when he looks my way. Then he looks at Stanley and back at me. Our eyes meet, and I’m putty.
Don’t care. He’s not worth it. If he’s that wishy-
washy, she can have him.
Stanley shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “She’s uh...”
I walk over to Gunnar and pick up the dish towel I threw at him. “I’m helping him get ready for the GED.”
Gunnar cocks his head to the side. “Seriously?”
I plant my hands on my hips and huff at him. “Yeah, seriously. I’m a nice person when I want to be. Plus, I’m an open book.”
Stanley chuckles. “From what I hear, she’s a nice person in a lot of nice ways when she wants to be.”
My mouth drops open. Gunnar laughs. They high-five over my head.
Stanley gives me a one-armed, brotherly hug. “I’m kidding.”
I poke his Pillsbury-Dough-Boy belly. “You better be, or else you’ll lose your tutor and my delicious muffins.”
Stanley gulps down the last of his iced tea and walks toward the door. “I gotta go before Jolene gets suspicious.”
Gunnar waves. “See ya, Stan.”
Stanley turns and grins. “Maybe she’ll make you stay after for detention. It could be fun being punished by her.”
Gunnar belly laughs, and I reward him with a poke in his not-at-all-dough-boy stomach.
“Stan, I mean it,” I yell as he rushes out. I pop Gunnar on the arm. “Not funny.”
Gunnar walks over to the door, locks it, and pulls down the shade. He shrugs. “Could be fun, though.”
When he turns to me again, he’s a different person and stares into my soul. He’s no longer the playful, joking Gunnar. The guy striding my way appears more like an animal stalking his prey.
“Hey, stranger.” Maybe my tone will resonate with him that I’ve noticed he’s been avoiding me.
He walks so close that his minty breath tickles my neck.
To keep myself under control, I turn around and busy myself with all the supplies lying out on the counter. All the whiteboard markers must be organized this minute, or I’ll lose myself in those eyes.
“How have you been?” he asks.
Stop being so damn sexy. Actors work their entire life to sound Southern, but there’s no denying a fake. And Gunnar is far from fake. I shrug. Stay focused. Act nonchalant. Act like him being so close doesn’t send tingles all over your body.
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