Page 135 of Small Towns, Wild Hearts

I stalk into the store, my mind racing with all the things I should have said to her, beginning with ‘Stay.’

And run straight into Jagger Capelli.

FML.

“Watch where you’re going, Smith,” Jagger sneers, poking me hard in the chest.

“My bad—I didn’t even see you,” I taunt. Jagger picked the wrong fucking day to mess with me.

“Real fucking funny.” He rolls his eyes, puffing out his overly-muscled chest. “Did you hear the good news?”

I squint my eyes at him. “You’re finally leaving town?”

“You wish.”

“What, Jagger?” I cross my arms, fervently wishing I’d gone anywhere other than here.

“Did you and your little gal pal break up already?”

Huh? How the hell does he know about me and Elise?

“None of your damn business,” I spit out, fire burning in my gut. I ball my fists, every muscle in my body tense.

“Well—your loss is my gain. Because she’s selling her house to me.”

I freeze, blood roaring hard in my ears.

“What did you just say?” I ask. There’s no way he’s telling the truth—I warned Elise about him.

“You heard me. That sweet little thing is selling, and I’m here to pick up the pieces you left behind. If you know what I mean.” He winks at me and I grit my teeth, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

“You stay the fuck away from Elise, you got me?” I growl, stepping towards him.

“Why? You have no claim on her. You obviously didn’t measure up, or she’d still be with you.”

I take a deep breath, my throat dry.

“Shut the fuck up, Capelli, before I make you.”

“Aww, big man with the threats. It doesn’t matter what you say, anyway. The deed’s almost done—I’m waiting on the final paperwork. And thenyou’llbe working forme.” Jagger’s face breaks into a crooked smile and I snap, lunging for him.

“Whoa, Smitty.” A hand grabs the back of my T-shirt, pulling me away from Jagger. “Not worth it.” I glance over my shoulder at my cousin, Roman, Parker’s older brother.

“Rome—let me finish this.” I crack my knuckles, but Roman doesn’t let go of my shirt.

“Not today. Fuck off, Jags,” Roman says, steering me toward the door.

We spill out into the bright sunshine and I shove Roman off me, punching a pink flamingo float on display.

“Damn it!” I shout, my fist bouncing off the shiny plastic.

“Wanna explain?” Roman cocks his head, training his ice blue eyes on me.

“Not really,” I grunt, scrubbing a hand over the back of my neck, my body sagging.

“Come on, Smitty. You don’t get heated easily, especially over someone as worthless as Jagger. What was that all about?”

I blow out a breath, shaking my head, and Roman lets out a long, low whistle.

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