Page 101 of Hometown Girl

Kent squirmed from Drew’s grip, shouting and cussing all the way to his car. Drew stood outside, calming himself down and waiting until Kent’s truck drove away.

When he’d gone back into the barn, he’d found Beth broken and near tears. And he’d had the impression he was seeing her in a way very few people ever had.

She wasn’t bulletproof. What Kent said had hurt her, and when Drew saw her hurt, something inside him ached. He wanted to take all of the pain away. Maybe it was leftover guilt from not being able to save Jess, but there wasn’t much he wanted more than to pull Beth into his arms and keep anything—or anyone—from ever hurting her again.

“You look like you’re somewhere else.” She turned to him from the other side of the loft.

Drew shook himself back to the present. Now was not the time to leave his thoughts unattended. “I was just thinking you should ask the old lady to have a booth in your barn sale.”

Beth’s eyes scanned the finished pieces along the wall. “She is really good.”

“Maybe you could go easy on her.”

She eyed him. “You think I wouldn’t?”

“Well, the way you were talking before we got here—it was kind of icy.” He’d meant it as a joke, but by the look on her face, he could tell she hadn’t found it amusing.

She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin.

“I didn’t mean—”

She held up a hand. “No, I get it. It’s fine.”

“Beth.”

But she’d already turned away and started down the stairs, done with the conversation. Done with him.

And he supposed it was probably better that way.

Beth didn’t even know why she was upset.

Maybe his use of the wordicyhad set something off inside her. The Ice Queen lives again.

Why did she care so much what Drew Barlow thought of her? Why did it matter if he looked at her the way everyone else did—like a cold rule-follower who couldn’t admit when she was wrong? Why did it matter if he looked at her at all?

Maybe because she’d opened up to him. She’d let herself feel naked and vulnerable, and now she wished she could take it all back. She shouldn’t have told him about any of that. She knew better than to let her guard down.

But Drew was different.

She watched him working sometimes. Stood behind the sink in the kitchen and stared out the window while he cut and stacked wood, dragged branches to the burn pile or pulled the weeds behind the main barn. It embarrassed her how many times she’d admired his shirtless figure as he tirelessly worked to save them from financial ruin. If they survived this restoration, it would be only because of him.

They’d spent weeks together now. Sometimes they ate together. Sometimes they sat on the porch at the end of the day and went over the plan for the morning.

Always businesslike and professional.

But always, always, she hesitated to say goodbye.

Oh, she played it cool and pretended not to notice when his hand brushed hers as he took his morning cup of coffee. She even whipped out her professional voice every chance she got, but inside, when he looked at her, she went weak.

And she hated being weak.

Now, as they sat in his truck, headed back to get her car in the high school parking lot, she begged herself to let go of this stupid insecurity.

“You’re quiet.” He tapped the steering wheel with his thumb.

“Am I?” She stared out the window.

“I didn’t mean to offend you back there.” His eyes stayed on the road.

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