Page 26 of Highball Rush
I glared at her, but took the bottle out of her hand. “Shouldn’t you be on a honeymoon or something?”
“We were saving it for later anyway, but we’re certainly not going anywhere now. Not with everything that’s going on. Do you need conditioner?” She handed me another bottle.
Great. She’d obviously talked to Scarlett. And me buying girl shit was making it look like Iwashiding a secret girlfriend at my place.
But she was being kinda helpful…
I tossed the conditioner in with the rest of the stuff and hesitated, not quite meeting Cassidy’s gaze. With her mouth still turned up in a grin, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. She glanced up and down the aisle, then grabbed body wash, a package of pink razors, a toothbrush, deodorant, and a hairbrush.
“Thanks,” I muttered, then took my stuff to the front. I didn’t want to give her a chance to ask any questions.
Opal Bodine—no relation—was behind the front counter. She sat on a stool, her nose in a book. I waited for a few seconds, but she didn’t look up.
I cleared my throat and she just about jumped off her stool.
“Sorry.” She put a bookmark in the book and set it down. Was she blushing? That was weird. “Didn’t see you there, Gibs.”
I grunted something non-committal, then glanced around while I set my stuff out for her to scan. A couple of summertimers got in line behind me and I noticed Buck wandering around with a package of donuts. No worries about gossip there. But then Zadie Rummerfield walked in, stopped, and looked right at me. Her eyes tracked my purchases, and she lifted an eyebrow.
Well, shit.
As quickly as I could, I paid and grabbed my bags—why the hell did I have so much stuff?—and got out of there. But I could practically feel the rumor mill sparking to life. It was like a fuse on a big stick of dynamite—one that was going to light up the whole town.
9
MAYA
Coffee was perking me up. I sat nestled in the corner of Gibson’s couch, cradling the mug in my hands, my legs tucked up beneath me. I hadn’t been able to resist slipping on one of his shirts before I came out of his room this morning. The dark blue plaid was soft against my skin. And I really had left my bag in the car last night. It wasn’t like I’d come here planning to stay over.
Plus, his shirt smelled good. Really good. I lifted the collar to my nose and inhaled. It smelled like fresh laundry, but even clean, right out of his closet, there was a hint of Gibson on it.
It was the silliest thing, but I wondered if he’d let me keep it.
Waking up here, in Gibson Bodine’s house—in his bed, no less—felt like something out of a dream. And amazingly enough, not a nightmare, considering I was on the outskirts of the town I thought I’d never be able to see again.
However, I still felt unbalanced. I’d kept all things Callie locked away for so long, I didn’t know what to do with her now. Last night I’d bounced back and forth between feeling uncertain and afraid—like I was Callie all over again—to calm and composed. I’d hoped I could sleep it off and face today feeling whole. Feeling like Maya.
But it was as if I’d cracked. I was two different people inhabiting the same body. Really, I always had been. I’d just put Callie away and never let her out. I’d lived thirteen years as Maya. But Gibson wasn’t the only thing that had escaped the box and wouldn’t go back in. Callie had, too.
And I had no idea what I was going to do about that.
For about the millionth time, I told myself I should go. This was beyond complicated. It wasn’t safe for me here.
But Gibson wasn’t the only one who knew I was alive. He was right, people were going to dig. If I wanted Callie to stay gone, I’d have to disappear—really disappear. No contact. No ties. I had plenty of places I could go. I knew how to drop off the map. I was good at it.
Maybe I should have been busy wiping down every surface I’d touched to get rid of my fingerprints. But I stayed where I was, sipping coffee on Gibson’s couch. At the very least, I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye. Not again.
But if I left, then what? The way rumors flew through this town, the Kendalls had to know about Gibson keeping those photos. That put a great big target on his back. And he’d said June Tucker had exposed the fraud posing as me. Did the judge know that? Who else had been poking around in my case? Cassidy? Gibson said she was a deputy. And Jenny Leland was here. If it got out that she’d said I was alive…
How many people were in danger because of me?
Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths, trying to slow my racing heart. Maybe I wasn’t prepared to face what was at the end of this road.
The front door opened, and Gibson came in, loaded down with grocery bags.
I set my coffee down and stood. “Do you need help with that?”
“I got it.” He brought the bags into the kitchen and set them on the counter.
