Page 36 of Slow Burn
She and Natasha had seemed alright during their supper together, but then they both cleared out without a word. Had him wondering if something happened between them that lingered through to this morning and had her freezing him out.
He caught her just outside the inn’s front doors, the humid air pressing down like a weight. She wouldn’t look at him, her chin set at a stubborn tilt, and he was searching for something—anything—that would make her stop running from him when a syrupy voice cut through the thick air.
“Well, now. Here’s an interestin’ sight.”
Both of them turned.
Kiki Womack stood on the gravel path, one manicured hand perched on her hip, the other clutching a shopping bag from the corner market. Her smile glinted with the satisfaction of catching something she shouldn’t.
“Jocelyn Murphy and Cole Hauser, thick as thieves,” Kiki drawled, shooting fire at Cole like he was the only one responsible.
Jocelyn stiffened beside him as the heat crawled up his neck, a growl threatening in his chest, but she got bolder the more they bristled, like she fed off it.
“’Course, I can’t blame you for wanting company,” she said to Jocelyn, her smile turning sharp. “Your mama never liked being alone, either. Always had someone hanging around her, even if they weren’t the kind you’d call good company.”
The words landed like a stone between them, heavy and cold, drawing a sharp breath from Jocelyn.
“Now, Miz Kiki,” Cole warned, voice low, and it pulled her venomous gaze in his direction.
“Funny, isn’t it?” she went on. “Even though some folks walk around like they’re carrying a hero’s name, the world don’t always see it the same way.”
She let the pause hang, her lips curving into a sly, almost triumphant smile. “Your daddy… he’s done a lot for this town, no question. Seems the apple fell a little far from the tree, though. Might wanna watch who you spend time with, Jocelyn. Don’t want your mama’s reputation confirmed.”
Cole took a hard step toward her, his jaw flexing. “That’s enough, Kiki.”
“I’m afraid it’s not enough.” The older woman took that as her exit line, and silence settled like ash in her wake.
Fury tore through him, but the sight of Jocelyn with her arms wrapped tight around her middle, gaze fixed on the ground, held him rooted. He fought the burn of the rage—at Kiki, at the town, at the way the past refused to stay buried—because he had to make sure she was alright.
“Don’t listen to her,” he said, his voice rougher than he meant. “Kiki’s got a mean streak wide as the Mississippi, but she doesn’t know a damn thing.”
Jocelyn’s head snapped up, anger flashing across her face. “She knows enough to drag my mama’s name through the dirt like it’s some kind of entertainment.”
He clenched his jaw, wanting to put his fist through something. “And I should’ve shut her down harder.”
“You think that would’ve stopped her?” Jocelyn shot back, her voice low but sharp. “People like Kiki don’t stop. They feed on this. On me. On you.” Her breath hitched, and she pressed her lips together like she hated herself for showing even that much.
Cole’s hand flexed at his side, aching to reach for her, to pull her out from under the weight of it all. But the steel in her posture warned him off.
“She had no right swingin’ at your mama or bringin’ Pop into it,” he muttered.
That made Jocelyn’s gaze soften for a beat then shutter again. “Everybody’s fair game in this town, Cole. You know as well as I do. Maybe better these days.”
The sting of it cut deep. He hated that she was right. Hated more that he let those opinions get under his skin, let them feel true even if they weren’t.
“Jocelyn.” He stepped closer, enough that the summer heat between them carried her scent, clean and citrusy. His voice dropped. “If you keep diggin’ into this, that—” he gesturedtoward the road where Kiki had disappeared, “—becomes more than talk. People might get hurt. Reputations might get ruined.”
Her eyes lifted to his, dark and shining with a mix of fire and hurt. “And what if the truth ruins more than that?”
The words landed hard, heavier than Kiki’s gossip had. Cole’s chest went tight, and he saw the fear beneath her stubbornness—the risk she was carrying alone.
He wanted to promise her he could handle it. That he wouldn’t let the town tear her apart. But there was a chance he’d get ripped up, too.
The way she was looking at him, daring him to promise something he wasn’t ready to offer, told him she might not have been ready for it, either.
“Does it matter to you if it does?” he asked.
Her jaw worked, like she was biting down on a thousand things she couldn’t say, before she turned sharply and started walking.
