Page 91 of The Belle and the Biker

“No, thank you. All I can tell you is that he seems to be a good person who loves you, and sometimes men make mistakes. Sometimes even smart men are major league stupid morons who act like jerks to their employees for three years because they’re to chicken to talk about their feelings, and they’re afraid they’ll repeat the sins of their father.” She eats a bite of cake and stares at her husband.

“I feel personally attacked,” Chase says to his wife. “Is that your second slice of chocolate lava cake?”

Her baby bump is starting to show now. She looks at him, and I wonder if he knows how much danger he’s in.

“Yes, and?” She gives him the specific Southern-woman smile that any smart man would interpret as: “Run. Do not look back.”

He smiles at her fearlessly. “I was wondering if you wanted me to go get you a third.”

She pats his arm. “Good husband. Junior, thanks you. Junior has a sweet tooth.”

“Junior’s the one with the sweet tooth, eh?” Chase laughs as he pushes his chair back. Then he hurries away as she starts throwing silverware at him.

CHAPTER27

Savannah

They say time is relative.It's been a week since I last saw Crash, but it feels like months. My future unrolls endlessly into the horizon like an empty map, and I have no navigational markings to guide myself by.

I was raised to be a certain type of woman, a society wife whose sense of self-worth came from making other people feel small. When that imploded, I thought I'd bounced right back. I became the scrappy survivor, graciously helping the homeless and working five or six jobs. But it turns out nobody actually wanted my help. And working every single waking minute was just a way to fill the empty hours because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my time.

That and my crush on Crash meant more than I ever acknowledged. I realize now that even though I never admitted it to myself, I always held out hope that something would happen between us. My forbidden fantasies were a bright spot in a painful and confusing time. Now I don't feel like I could trust the man who should have been my rock.

It wasn't easy for me to tell Crash that my mother truly, sincerely doesn't love or even like me. And it was even harder to admit that I actually still care, and a part of me will always want her love and approval. It felt like opening a wound and dumping salt on it. But I swallowed my pride and turned myself inside out for him, and he still hid from me behind an enormous wall. I know he wants me back. But what would be different?

A chill seeps through my veins. I'm standing in a room full of people, every one of whom I grew up with and everyone I know by name, and I've never felt lonelier or less sure of my purpose in life.

Everyone's gathered at the fairgrounds agricultural hall this bright, cold Saturday, and the room is full of people who fit properly into their lives and know exactly where they're meant to be.

Darius Culpepper is the mayor of Bitter End. He's a politician, a husband to Jolene, a father to three kids, a grandfather to five, and a collector of old Mustangs. Herman owns the Bitter Bites diner, which nourishes the residents of Bitter End with more than food; it's been a gathering spot for generations. Beauford Spillwell's a dumb old hick, but he's also a savvy mechanic who keeps the engines of Swampy Bottom running. Daisy's mother, Susan Abernathy, owns the Bitter End Hotel, apple orchards, and wedding destination. Widow, excellent cook, mother of two, and dutiful daughter-in-law to Mae Abernathy, she's one of the biggest employers in the county.

Lance, her bartender, is here with his wife, Pamela. He's a devoted husband and talented musician.

Facing off against them are the Sugar Hill residents.

Sugar Hill Mayor Bertram Harkwell is there, studiously ignoring Mayor Culpepper. My mother, Lureene Johnstone, Bunny, and Darla, all chamber of commerce members, are huddled together, whispering to each other. My father is standing across the room with Adair Johnstone and a few of his hunting buddies.

They may be a bunch of richer-than-thou trust fund snobs, but at least they know who they are.

I rub my face with my hands, feeling slightly dizzy. What even am I?

"Earth to Savannah," Daisy says. "Are you all right?"

I drop my hands, paste on my social smile, and nod.

We're standing by one of the conference tables, waiting for stragglers to show up so the meeting can be called to order. Everyone's gathered here to help plan the 300th-anniversary celebration of the founding of Swampy Bottom County. In the summer of 1720, Sorrowful Abernathy first set foot in Bitter End, and the Swampy Bottom Chamber of Commerce is planning a whopper of a birthday party.

"Actually, I feel a little under the weather," I lie. "I may just head on home."

"Psst." Daisy nudges me, making me jump. "Your boyfriend's here."

I glance across the room, and my heart thumps in my chest. Crash is across the room, talking to Sheriff Buckley. He hasn't spotted me yet, and I don't want him to. I'm not ready.

"I've got to go," I say to Daisy.

"You've got to talk to him one of these days."

"Hey, guys!" Callie calls from her seat at the end of the table. "Come sit down!"

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