“That’s quite enough, Mrs. Owens,” Leo said, his tone frigid as he directed it at the snobby woman. “While we’re in this room, you’ll remain civil.”
Lifting my chin, I pinned the woman with a hard stare. “I’m Charity’s guardian, yes. And I’ll ask that, from here on out, you refrain from name calling, especially when you’re referring to a thirteen-year-old girl.”
As the woman sputtered, I returned my attention to the uniformed officer and asked, “Can you fill me in on what happened?”
Officer Duncan’s expression was surprisingly gentle as he dove right in. “Well, the owner of the shop these three were in caught them stuffing cosmetics into their backpacks, and when she went to confront them, those two attempted to make a run for it.”
I looked back to the girls, noticing that the only one he wasn’t pointing at was Charity. At least that was something.
“A few other customers stopped them before they could make it out the door, which is fortunate, considering the trouble they’d have gotten into for running would’ve been a whole lot steeper than a slap on the wrist.”
“This is so stupid,” Charity clipped loudly. “It was just a couple tubes of lipstick. We weren’t hurting anybody.”
My head whipped around in her direction. “Not. Another. Word,” I warned. In return, she shot me a scathing look, but snapped her mouth shut.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the officer. “Please continue.”
“All the items they took were accounted for, and she’d not gonna press charges. The girls are free to go”—he gave them an admonishing look that made all three of them sink deeper into their seats—“this time.”
“Thank you,” I said, my shoulders sinking in relief. “I’m sure we all appreciate the leniency.”
“Speak for yourself,” Blonde Bob snapped. “My daughter wouldn’t be in this position in the first place if it wasn’t for her.” She curled her top lip up at Charity. “Kelsey didn’t have a single problem until she started hanging around that girl.”
“That girl’s name is Charity,” I cut in. “And as far as I’m concerned, all three of them are at fault for what happened. You must have selective hearing, because you seemed to have missed the part where Officer Duncan explained that it was your daughter and the other girl who attempted to flee the scene, but far be it for me to be the one to burst your bubble by pointing out that your Kelsey is far from innocent. Now, if you feel you have more to say to me, I’m more than happy to speak with you . . . in private. But I’m done allowing you to throw attitude and dirty looks at a child. Is that understood?”
The woman’s eyes went big, and she began to bluster. “Who do you think you ar—”
“Is. That. Understood?” I repeated, my tone leaving absolutely zero room for argument.
Finally growing some balls, the woman’s husband took her by the arms and admonished, “That’s enough, Gwen. Kelsey, get your things. We’re going.”
With that, the three of them headed out, followed only moments later by the other girl and her silent mother.
“Thank you for taking it easy on them,” I said to Officer Duncan once the door closed behind the others. “And if you happen to have the opportunity, please thank the shop owner for me as well.”
He offered a kind smile. “Don’t mention it. Kids make mistakes. Those mistakes shouldn’t define a person.” He turned his focus on Charity, surprising both of us by keeping his tone gentle as he spoke to her. “It’s how you learn from those mistakes that define you. You understand, sweetheart?”
She shocked me to my core when she lowered her head, looking properly shamefaced. “Yes, sir.”
“Glad to hear it. Now, you two ladies enjoy the rest of your day.” He gave us a tilt of his chin before disappearing from the conference room. I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes, and pinched the bridge of my nose as the tension of the last hour or so seeped from my bones, leaving me utterly exhausted.
The feel of a hand on my arm made my eyelids pop open, and when I looked up, Leo was gazing down at me, concern etched into his handsome features. “You good, darlin’?”
I offered him a tired smile and nodded. “Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.” Shifting to face Charity, I made my voice stern as I ordered, “Go wait for me in the lobby. I’ll be there in just a second.”
She stood without argument, and Leo and I watched as she slunk out, ever the moody teenager.
“Thank you for your help,” I said once the two of us were alone. “You know, with the receptionist and Kelsey’s mom. You didn’t have to step in, but I appreciate that you did.”
“Not a problem.” He hit me with a sexy grin. “I don’t mind helpin’ out, especially if it means I get a chance to meet a beautiful woman.”
A blush hit my cheeks as they pulled into a shy smile. “Well, uh . . . I should probably, you know”—I hiked my thumb over my shoulder—“get going.”
His warm chuckle filled the room. “Probably. Circumstances aside, it was nice meeting you, Tessa.”
“You too, Leo.” I began backing toward the door. “I’ll, um, see you around.”
He gave me a wink, and promised, “Oh, you’ll definitely be seein’ me around.”
Oh . . . my.
Chapter Seven
Tessa
Silence reined throughout my car for the first two minutes of the drive back to Hope House. I clutched the steering wheel in an unrelenting grip, trying to figure out how to get through to this girl, when she suddenly spoke up.
“God, Kelsey’s mom is such a bitch.”
I cut my eyes in her direction. “Seriously?”
Her arms were once again crossed over her chest; her eyes, rimmed with thick coal eyeliner that did nothing but detract from her natural beauty, glared straight ahead as she pouted. “Well it’s true, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t bring myself to argue that fact, because the girl didn’t lie. Kelsey’s mom was a bitch. But that wasn’t the point. “First of all, watch your mouth.”
She let out a snort before I could say anything else. “Now you’re gonna get on my case about cussing? So much for you being cool,” she added on a mutter under her breath.
“Getting on you about your language has nothing to do with whether I’m cool or not. It’s about respect. When you speak like that to an adult, you’re telling us you don’t respect us, and I won’t tolerate it. I’m not your friend, Charity. I don’t care if you think I’m not cool. The only thing I care about is your wellbeing. Got it?”
She huffed and turned to face the passenger window. “Yeah, I got it. Jeez.”
I chanced a brief look in her direction before turning back to the road ahead. “And while we’re at it, how about you lose the attitude as well?”
“And how about you get off my back, huh?” she snapped.
Slowing the car, I flipped on my signal and pulled to the side of the road, throwing the gear shift into park when I came to a stop so I could turn to face her head on. “Let’s get something straight. You made the choice to cut class with your friends today, not me. You decided to go into that woman’s business, a business she has more than likely worked herself to the bone to build, and steal from her. Again, that wasn’t me. You want to be treated like an adult? That’s something you earn, Charity. And as far as I can see, you haven’t done one single thing to earn that.”
“Whatever,” she grumbled with a roll of her eyes.
“No, it’s not whatever,” I snapped. “I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to really listen to me. You want to be mad at the world for the raw deal you were given? Again, that’s on you. But one day, you’re going to be too old to blame your messed-up childhood for the mistakes you make. You’re going to have to make a decision soon, Charity. You can either choose to continue down the path you’re on now, or you can choose to be better than the hand you were dealt, but you’re going to reach an age in the not-too-distant future where you’ll be held accountable for your own actions, no matter what your c
hildhood was like, and making excuses isn’t going to do you a bit of good.”
She’d turned to face me during my lecture, her face pinching with an agonizing sorrow she masked with rage. “You don’t know shit about me!” she seethed. “You probably had the perfect parents and lived in a perfect house. You can’t imagine what my life’s been like. You’re just another fancy bitch like Kelsey’s mom. Only you’re worse, because you have a stupid savior complex!”
It took me several seconds to get my bearings enough to speak again, and when I did, my voice came out husky, raw with emotion. “Every time you have to move from one foster home to another, they pack all your stuff up in garbage bags.” Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t say a word as I continued. “It sucks, because seeing all your belongings like that makes you feel disposable. Like garbage. Then you get to your new home, which isn’t really a home, but just some house you’ll eventually be taken from all over again, and everything you own smells like plastic garbage bags. All the kids at your school know what you are just by that smell and they make fun of you for it.”
Charity’s lips parted on a thick exhale. “H-how . . . how did you . . .?”
“You were right. I had the perfect parents, and we lived in the perfect house. Then they died when I was ten years old,” I replied in a choked whisper. “For eight years, I bounced around from one place to another, always stinking like plastic garbage bags.” Leaning close, I reached up to cup her cheek, brushing away the moisture that had fallen from her eyes. “But you were also wrong. I don’t have a savior complex, sweetheart. Yes, I want to help you, but only because I know from experience how hard all of this is for you.” I dropped my hand and sat back before she had a chance to pull away from me. “So you don’t have to think I’m cool, and you don’t have to like me. But you should know, no matter how you act or how rude you are, I’m not giving up.”
I left it at that and put the car back into motion. The rest of the drive was silent. It wasn’t until I cut the ignition and Charity opened the door that I spoke again. “You know you’re totally grounded, right?”
She shifted in her seat, one foot on the gravel outside, the other still in the car. “What?”
“No electronics, no TV, and no phone for a week.”
“No way!” she cried, the moody kid back in full force.
“Did you really think that because the cops took it easy on you, there wouldn’t be any repercussions?”
She let out a melodramatic whine. “Omigod, this sucks. I can’t go without my phone!” she cried. “What if there’s an emergency?”
“Lucky for you, the only places you’ll be are school and here, surrounded by a bunch of grown-ups more than capable of using their phones should the worst happen and a zombie apocalypse strikes.”
“So what am I supposed to do for a whole week?”
“Oh, don’t you worry.” I gave her an evil grin. “You’ll be too busy catching up on all the school work you’ve missed, and helping me, Reggie, Diana, and anyone else who needs it with chores around here. Starting with dinner.”
“Oh, come on!”
“Just consider this part of my epic un-coolness.” I jerked my chin toward the house. “Now go on.”
She stomped to the front door, but didn’t bother arguing.
I’d take that as a win.
* * *
After finishing my day at Hope House, I grabbed my stuff and headed out. I barely had the energy to hit up Fresh Foods on my way home—or, more accurately, on the way back to the inn, but I was out of wine, and the only things I had to eat were some bits of leftover cheese and a half-filled tube of crackers. That wasn’t going to cut it. After the day I’d had, I required chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. And maybe something just a bit more substantial so I could at least claim I attempted to eat a few things from the other food groups.
Working in order of importance, I hit up the candy aisle first, in search of what I referred to as The Triple Threat: Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups, Twix, and Three Musketeers. All of which required at least an hour in the freezer before consumption.
I threw three bags each of the fun-sized candy bars into my cart and moved on to the wine aisle.
I’d just rounded the corner toward the produce section when I jerked to a stop. At the sight of Bryce standing only a yard or so away of me, my lungs deflated.
I’d worked so hard these past few weeks to avoid him, hoping that the old adage, “out of sight, out of mind,” would prove true. But I hadn’t been so lucky. Even though I hadn’t laid eyes on him, he was constantly in my thoughts.
At random times I’d find myself wondering what he was doing in that moment or if he was thinking about me. I’d think about what he’d said to me as he stood by his truck, how he’d never lied to me. Each night I dreamed of that week we’d had together. And when the thoughts overwhelmed me, I’d move to the wardrobe where I’d stashed an old shoe box and flip it open.
I’d told myself a million times over the years that I hated him, and when I was packing to make the move from Houston to Hope Valley, I’d found the box in the back of my closet and contemplated throwing it away.
But I couldn’t.
No matter how scarred my heart was, I hadn’t been able to let go of the memories in that box. And now that he was back in my life, I found myself rifling through it more than I had in the last decade.
As if feeling my gaze on him like lasers beating into his skin, his head swiveled in my direction. The moment he saw me, those spearmint eyes flared, and those full, puffy lips stretched into a smile. And God, what a smile it was. Even better than the ones I’d gotten from the detective at the police station earlier that day.
My feet stayed glued to the floor as he closed the distance between us. “Tessa.”
That one word came out rough and smoky, and my body reacted instantly. Thank goodness for the long sleeves the chill outside required, because they were the only thing hiding the goosebumps that had broken out across my skin. Fighting back a shiver, I carefully blanked my face and replied, “Bryce.”
The shivers grew worse, and I felt my nipples stiffen as he looked me up and down like a man dying of hunger. “How . . .” He cleared his throat against the rasp and started over. “How have you been?”
“Good. Busy. And you?” Dear Lord, had polite small talk ever been so awkward?
“I’ve been all right.” He was all right. “All right” wasn’t quite in league with “good.” Had his word choice been intentional?
He scoped out the contents of my cart, humor dancing in his gaze, as he mumbled, “Wow. That’s a lot of candy and wine.”
I threw on an air of haughtiness as I pulled the cart back, digging the handle into my belly in an attempt to get it away from him. “Not that I have to defend my food preferences to you, but I had a tough day,” I said defensively. “And I was planning on getting a salad to balance everything out, anyway.”
“Makes perfect sense.” He grinned slyly, and I felt my mouth tremble as I fought back a smile of my own. “Everything okay?”
I managed to win the battle against my humor and asked, “Huh?”
“You said you had a tough day. Anything I can help with?”
The walls I’d erected around my heart gave a little tremble at the impact of his kindness slamming in to them like a wrecking ball. “Uh, no. But thank you.”
His head canted to the side as his expression grew tender, and damn it, I felt that look as well. “You sure? I’m happy to help.”
“I appreciate it. It’s just . . . one of the girls got caught shoplifting today. I had to make a trip to the police station.”
“Oh, damn.”
“Yeah.” I blew out a sigh. “But it comes with the job. As sad as it is, I’m used to stuff like this. These kids are dealing with a lot. They don’t know how to cope with everything they’re feeling, so they act out.”
“Christ, honey. I’m sorry.” His tone was ragged, and the pain etched into his face made m
y sinuses sting. “Is that what it was like for you?”
“I went the other way. I clung to people in the beginning. But once I realized I was going to be sent away no matter how hard I tried to be good, I just . . . closed myself off. It was easier not to have any connections at all.” Until you. Those two words were left unsaid, but I could feel them like an electric pulse in the air between us, and I knew he did as well when he noticeably flinched.
“Tessa—”
Shaking off the melancholy, I pasted a brittle smile to my face. “Well, I should probably get going. I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. If I stand here much longer, I’ll end up ripping into one of my candy bags.”
“Let me take you to dinner.”
The words spilled from his lips so fast and so passionately, I was more than a little taken aback. “I—What?”
“Let me take you to dinner,” he repeated. “I don’t know if you’ve tried it yet, but there’s this great little Mexican place just outside of town. Or if you’re in the mood for something else, there are a lot of other options. There’s a steakhouse two towns over. Hand to God, you’ll never have a better steak in your life.”
“Bryce, I . . . that’s probably not a good—”
“I’m not tryin’ anything here. No ulterior motives, just dinner. We live in the same town. We can’t avoid each other forever. I don’t want to avoid you, beauty. Don’t you think it would be best if we could at least learn to get along?”
“Don’t fall for it! It’s a trap!” my brain screamed.
“Throw yourself at him and climb him like a mountain. Right. Now!” my body shouted.
I tried to hear what my heart was saying, but it was too preoccupied to chime in, busy holding up those quaking walls as they took one blow after another.
The truth was, trying to avoid him, trying to not think about him, was absolutely exhausting. And the harder I tried the more he consumed my thoughts. I reached up and dragged a hand through my hair while I blew out a resigned breath. “You’re right,” I admitted, and just those two words felt like a boulder lifting off my shoulders. “We do need to try and get along.”
The Second Time Around: a Hope Valley novel Page 7
