I stormed back to the car and ignored Harry’s whispered questions about what the hell was happening. None of his business, that was what I told him. He wouldn’t get a word out of me, but people would be talking around town soon enough.
Lola stood there, frozen, her head bent, arms hanging limply at her sides. She wouldn’t stop staring at that bin. Her eyes only lifted to catch mine just as I opened the door to my truck. A tear slid down her cheek.
I was such a selfish fucking bastard.
The devastation on her face shattered my heart, but pretending that treating her like that didn’t destroy me, like it didn’t bother me at all, I turned my back on her and left.
9
She Didn’t See Him as a Protector
Lola
“Nope. No way.” Brookestripped her blouse over her head and tossed it on her bed. “You can’t go out wearingthat.” She waved an accusing finger in my direction.
I glanced down. “What’s wrong with this?” The faded black turtleneck was old, but it was functional and fit my mood. I didn’t feel like wearing my pretty new clothes anymore.
Brooke’s nose wrinkled. “Your skirt has baby puke all over it.”
Did it? I thought I’d wiped it off. I took another look. Oh. The milky streak caked between the pleats was barely visible. Sort of. The little boy with his tumble of golden curls had felt a lot better after he’d sprayed his upset tummy all over me. His mother had been mortified, but I wasn’t bothered.
I shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”
Brooke unzipped her skirt and shimmied it down her hips. She tossed it at the hamper, but it missed and landed on the floorbeside the bed. It was the only thing out of place in her bedroom. From the colour-coded clothes hangers in her wardrobe to the labels stuck on every box of neatly stacked shoes, everything in Brooke’s house was perfectly organised.
She glanced at me over her shoulder as she slipped off her bra. “Did you remember to bring a change of clothes?”
I blinked. Aiden had tangled my mind into a hundred balls of wool. All the threads that held me together were so jumbled that I could barely remember to put on one set of clothes. There was no way I’d remember to pack a second.
“Sorry,” I said weakly. “I forgot.”
“Lolly!”
“You said we were going out for a couple of drinks to unwind,” I reminded her. “What’s the big deal?”
“It’s Friday night!”
“So?”
“Half the town will be at the Old Cellar. You need to look hot.”
Frowning, I sagged against the doorframe. “I’m not sure I’ve ever lookedhotin my entire life.”
“What are you going on about? Of course you have! You just need to stop hiding under all those layers. And what ifhe’sthere tonight?” she teased with a sly grin. “You know, a certain cabinetmaker who dresses a bit like a lumberjack?”
My stomach plunged to my loafers. I didn’t want to see Aiden.
Icouldn’t.
The humiliation of his rejection outside the coffee shop was the new shadow stalking my steps. Busy days at work and nights spent with Brooke had distracted me. No one waited for me in the village store anymore. My welcome mat hadn’t received any gifts or a solemn visitor offering an apology.
But late at night, in my bed, the memories of Aiden hadn’t been dulled by the days that had slipped past.
I could still hear his whispers, still feel the tingle on my skin of him kissing each of the freckles along my collarbone. My heart hadn’t forgotten how he sighed, the softest sound, when my finger had traced the trimmed edges of his beard, his eyes locked on mine like I meant something to him. There hadn’t been a single sign Aiden was about to rip my heart out.
“That certain cabinetmaker has never been at the bar before,” I pointed out. His notable absence on our previous girls’ nights had been a big factor in why I agreed to this terrible idea.
“Yeah, but the game’s on tonight. All the guys come into town. At least, that’s what I’m counting on.” Grinning, Brooke grabbed a scrap of red satin off the bed. “I’ve got a dress even Harry can’t ignore.”
