“Meds? Is he okay?”
Nadine clucked her tongue as she started sifting through thrifted jeans, checking each tag for their size. “He’ll be okay. Doing a lot better after his surgery with what Jamie brings.” She pinched her fingers and brought them to her wrinkled lips, imitating smoking a joint. “He’s tried a lot of other strands, but one your husband grows helps him the most.”
“My husband? Car?” I shot a glance over my shoulder. Jamie was now leaning against his truck, arms and ankles crossed. Waiting.
“Well, he ain’t my husband,” Nadine joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Is Jamie charging you for that?”
“Yes, of course. A couple grand, depending on the size of the box he brings.”
My brows shot up. “Does my husband ever bring one? A box, I mean.”
She scratched the back of her head. “Come to think about it, I don’t believe he has. Always figured he was busy working when Jamie brought it by.”
I shuffled my feet as she pulled a pair of jeans from the rack. “Here’s one! I know I can find a few more if you need.”
“I think one is fine for now.” I double-checked the tag, confirming Nadine’s sight was as good as her memory. “Thank you, Nadine.” I hugged her—full-on wrapped my arms around her. “You’ve been very helpful.” In more ways than one.
She brushed her hands down her sides as I pulled back. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Roland. Come by anytime, even if it’s just for coffee.”
I smiled as I followed her to the register, certain coffee and town gossip from one of the nicest women I’d ever met was in my future. She wrapped up the jeans with pink paper before putting it into a bag. “Between you and me,” Nadine started, leaning over the counter, “I never liked Chet, either.”
“Who—”
“Save the questions like you don’t know, dear. I’d never seen someone go as pale as you did when I brought him up. It’s not exactly a secret that he’s a bad person.” She clasped her palm over her lips. “Lord, where are my manners? I shouldn’t have overstepped.”
Reaching for the bag, I wondered just how far-reaching that bit of knowledge was. Chet gambled and probably pissed off whoever he played with, but for someone like Nadine to know he was a bad man…
You don’t know her, Ly. She could also be just as bad.
Though my gut instincts told me otherwise.
“Thank you,” I settled on replying before I could think too much into it. “I’ll be back for some coffee real soon. Promise.”
She winked as she turned and headed for the back again.
I’d nearly forgotten all about Jamie as I walked out, clutching my bagged jeans. “Lyra Thomas,” he called, like I wasn’t heading straight for him.
“What the fuck do you want?”
He pushed me up against his truck, and my pulse skyrocketed. “I want you to get a message to your husband for me.”
“Fuck right the hell off,” I spat. “Let me go, or I’ll be tellin’ him about you puttin’ your hands on me.”
Jamie appeared to mull that over rather quickly as he blinked, then stepped back. With the morning sun beaming down, the mark on his nose became more clear, though it looked as if he’d covered it with makeup.
I bit my tongue against the laughter that imagery drew up in my head.
“Tell him I’m suing him.”
That’s when the laughter broke free.
“You won’t be laughing when I come to your house with my lawyer,” Jamie said, raising his tone.
So, I did the same. “And what’s your lawyer gonna do? You made a verbal agreement, and there are witnesses.”
“Hayes and Grant will back me,” Jamie bit back.