Page 67 of Here & There

“It was hers. The only thing I have of hers. She lived here, at one time, and I want to tell her she has a granddaughter who doesn’t fit with the rest of her family.”

“What’s her full name?”

“Shelby Jessica Fox.”

The name isn’t familiar. “Have you checked the library? They have all the old articles from the Cove Citizen there. She might be mentioned.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ve only been asking around so far.”

I’d tell her to go to the town hall—that’s where the archives are. Official town records. But I don’t want her anywhere near that asshole mayor. I’ll never forgive him for bringing those fuckers to my town. But another thought occurs to me.

“You can ask my dad if you want. He knows everyone in this town. Or he did.”

Shelby lights up. “Ohmygod, Mac, thank you.” She lays her hand on mine, and this time, the touch makes me angry. Because all I want is to hold her hand. To tell her I’ll help her find her grandmother, even though once she does, she’ll probably leave.

But she’s not mine to touch.

I nod. “Sure,” I say. “There’s some kind of flu outbreak right now, so I’m not going this weekend. But maybe next.”

Except she’ll be back at the inn next week. Out of my life, except for business purposes.

I let my anger get the better of me.

“Shelby, where’s your boyfriend?”

“What?”

“Your boyfriend. Why hasn’t he been here, taking care of you?”

“Is that what you’d do if your girlfriend lost it?”

She’s joking. I hide my anger well. But I don’t hesitate for a moment to answer her question. “It’s what I’d do if you needed me. I’d drop everything.”

The whiskey’s made me choose my wording poorly. But it’s true.

Her eyes shift down. “Richard and I are over. I think.”

I hate the way my chest lifts at that. I stuff it down. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re broken up.”

I stare at her, and she grimaces. “He seemed to think I might change my mind. Told me we’d talk about it when I got back. I didn’t bother responding.”

My chest deflates the rest of the way.

I know better than to keep up this line of questioning. I’ll say something we’ll both regret. Like make it crystal clear to that motherfucker it’s never happening again. Then I’d saybe with me.Come with me now, Shelby, to my bed. It’s right upstairs. I just fucking know he’s the type of asshole who probably didn’t even pay attention to what she wanted in bed. I’d pay attention. I’d track every breath, every flushed capillary. I’d…

Jesus. What the hell am I doing? Me broaching this subject tells me it’s time for bed. I reach down to pick up the whiskey. “It’s late. We should get inside.” I stand up.

Shelby doesn’t. She grips the arm of her chair. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Mac.”

“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

“I do.”

I grit my teeth. I should keep my mouth fucking shut. It’s the only thing with a 100% success rate of me not sticking my foot in it.

But apparently even holding the whiskey bottle loosens my damn lips.

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