Page 9 of Safe With Me
Was I that much of a dumbass?
In the lobby, the door opened, attached windchimes jingling. “Hey, Lola.”
The familiar deep voice raked over my nerves. Shit, not him. Hadn’t he moved to like Texas or somewhere?
Sure enough, Tick Calvert strolled through the arched entryway to the dining area to take a nearby table with Ash Hardison, the guy who’d set up all those chicken houses and the alligator farm out on Highway 3. Tick didn’t live here anymore, so I didn’t run into him often. Maybe once a year.
A year without seeing that guy wasn’t long enough.
Frowning, Jase followed my line of sight and turned back. The heaviness he’d carried with him all through lunch disappeared with his wide grin. “Aren’t you old enough not to let him under your skin?”
“He’s not under my skin.” I stabbed my fork into the last bite of tamale on my plate. “Just don’t like him. Fake-ass fucker.”
Jase laughed.
Shit. Fuck. The guy had sat right where I’d see him every time I looked up.
Jase was right – I shouldn’t still be carrying a high school grudge, and right hand to God, I’d deserved to be benched and cut to second string quarterback, even after starting two games my junior year. But the guy bugged the hell out of me. Daddy liked him, lauded him for being responsible and a go-getter, and what was I supposed to say back then? He’s a pussy-whippeddumbass who can’t see what’s right in front of his face? His girlfriend had been shit, and obviously, so were all those AP classes he took to help him make valedictorian, because he was dumb as hell.
Not to mention now he was a fake farmer, investing with Hardison. I doubt he ever got his hands dirty.
He might mess up his fancy suit or tarnish that shiny FBI badge.
And, he acted like shit with women, too, taking all these girls on one or two dates and moving on. Even Hannah had fallen prey to that mess a year or so back, skipping one of the Saturdays we all went out so she could have dinner with him. She never said anything about him after that, so I guess he dropped her like he did the others. But she’d dipped out on us every weekend for like a month after, radio silence, so maybe he’d hurt her feelings or some shit.
Fucker.
He grinned at Hardison, his wide gold wedding band glinting as he lifted his tea glass.
He’d actually gotten someone to marry him? Huh. Jesus’s miracles never ceased.
Jase looked at his watch and grimaced. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Me, too.” I smacked a hand against the table. “Cows don’t move themselves.”
“Who’s a fake farmer?” Jase snorted and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. A hint of diesel blended with the aroma of good, clean dirt and wafted from his shirt. Bet I had that smell clinging to me, too. “You ain’t moved a cow today, just told somebody else to do it.”
“I’m a farm manager, asshole. And trust me, I get my hands dirty often enough.”
Jase tossed a twenty on top of his ticket. “They make gloves for that.”
“Right.” Actually, I needed a new pair of work gloves. I could stop by the feed store, make things right with Hannah. Hefting out of the booth, I cleared my throat. “Listen, man, you need to talk, I’m here.”
“Thanks.” Grimacing, Jase tucked his wallet away. “Appreciate it, but honestly . . . today, I’m a whole hell of a lot lighter.”
We parted ways in the parking lot. Leaving my truck parked under the oak tree, I jogged across Scott Street and loped toward the feed store, where Elizabeth’s BMW straddled two spots right in front of the door. I shook my head. She couldn’t park for shit.
My heart thumped against my ribs, shame heating my neck all over again, as I drew closer to Hannah. Yeah, her Levis really were that snug, and her thin sweater clung a little, too. Her tongue caught between her teeth, she arranged candles and a bunch of other little stuff on one of the rolling carts. “Hey.”
She didn’t look at me, and her hands never faltered. “Hey.”
I swallowed. Man, my mouth was dry, even after that glass and a half of sweet tea at lunch. “Can we talk about last night?”
Her hands stilled, then she angled herself to start on the next shelf. “No.”
“Come on, Hannah.” I nudged her biceps with my knuckle.
One boot scraping on the sidewalk, she spun a slow pirouette to look at me, her face blank. I blinked at the lack of emotion in her hazel eyes, which always seemed to show the world how she was feeling. “Don’t touch me.”
