Page 78 of Knot So Sweet
By the time she pulls us out of the lot, my face is hotter than Dolly's engine before she died on me last month. But when we cruise down Main Street, I catch locals waving, like I've somehow become one of them. It feels... good. Weird, but good.
I sneak a smile. "Ever since Garrick picked us up last week... he's been nice."
"Garrick!" Meredith practically chokes as we stop at the light.
"Yeah. He's not so bad once you get to know him. Honestly, none of them are."
She shoots me a wink. "See? You're feeling it too."
One sharp turn later, we're pulling up at the bar. Same neon sign, same gravel lot but this time, it doesn't feel intimidating. No dark corners or seedy vibes. Just familiar.
Meredith orders a soda without blinking, and I do the same. We're both thinking the same thing: tonight, no bad decisions.
After a quick drink with Meredith after the town meeting, I went back to the apartment with a book and some chocolate to unwind.
Did I hope that the boys would be here playing poker?
Maybe.
I was surprised none of them were here, and it felt weird hearing it from Meredith that they were in the local pub in town to celebrate a friend's birthday. Two things hit me:
They didn't invite me.
And that they had friends.
I know it is crazy, of course they have friends. They spent their whole lives here, but it was as if one minute I feel as if I know them, then the next I'm getting to know them all over again.
Maybe, I'm too sensitive.
I sink into the couch, clutching my book tighter than necessary. The silence in the apartment feels accusatory, like it's judging me for caring so much about a stupid poker game.
The past has me more paranoid than someone charging their phone overnight and worrying during the day that they will run out of battery.
I gave up working in the bakery, to have more free time and be away from Garrick, but it's as if my mind is playing tricks with me and all I want to do is be around him.
I shake my head at my own contradictions and decide a grocery run might help clear my head. At least it'll get me out of this empty apartment.
The bell over Brennan's Market door chimes as I enter, and I'm immediately enveloped by the familiar scents of fresh produce and cleaning supplies.
"Morning, Violet!" Caroline calls from behind the deli counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "How are things?"
"Fine, thanks," I reply, grabbing a shopping basket.
Caroline nods knowingly. "It's quite an adjustment, I'm sure. Especially with all the... new social dynamics you must be navigating."
My stomach tightens at her loaded tone. Everyone in this town seems to know more about my business than I do.
Does no one talk fucking English here? Without the poetry and mixed messages. Just say what is on their mind.
I pause in front of the apples, my omega instincts picking up something in her tone. "Social dynamics?"
"Oh, you know." Caroline waves her hand vaguely. "Making new friends, figuring out where you fit in. Must be nice having such... attentive neighbors looking out for you."
I select a few apples and move toward the dairy section, very aware of Caroline's gaze following me.
At the milk refrigerator, I run into Tom Brennan himself, his scent a familiar mixture of motor oil and honest sweat. "Violet! Good to see you. How's that car running?"
"Great, thanks to you," I say, selecting a gallon of milk. "You fixed it up nicely."
