“To our celebration.” Edith’s smile wasn’t genuine. It reminded me of the club whores from back in the day. The ones that smiled to Virginia Stone’s face, knowing they were fucking her husband when she was at home.
Six months. Six fucking months of watching this woman move around this bakery like she owned the goddamn world. Six months of bear claws and black coffee and money she refused to take. Six months of her pretending she didn’t feel this thing between us.
Six months of me thinking about her when I should’ve been thinking about Grace. About Christina’s journal. About all the shit I’d lost.
But no. All I could think about was Trudy. The way her hips swayed when she walked. The way her eyes flashed when she got pissed. The way her voice went soft when she talked about her granddaughter.
I was fucking obsessed.
“The whole town is invited,” Harold said.
“You can bring a date, of course. If you have one,” Edith added.
Oh, fuck no.
Not happening.
This bitch wasn’t going to stand here and make Trudy feel small. Wasn’t going to make her feel like she was alone. Like she didn’t have someone.
She had me.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not.
“We’d be happy too,” I replied as I slipped my arm around Trudy’s waist from behind.
Christ, she felt good. Soft and warm and real. Not like Christina, who’d always felt fragile. Breakable. Trudy felt solid.Strong. Like she could take whatever I threw at her and throw it right back.
Her body tensed and then relaxed into me.
Yeah. That’s right, darlin’. You know where you belong.
Edith’s eyes widened in surprise, while her husband’s dropped to where my arm held Trudy against me.
That’s right motherfucker. She’s fucking mine.
Based on the look on the man’s face, there had been something between them at some point.
And he still wanted her. I could see it in the way his eyes lingered. In the way his jaw tightened. In the way he looked at my hand on her waist like he wanted to rip it off.
Too fucking bad.
She wasn’t his. She was mine. Had been mine since the first time I walked into this shop and saw her glaring at me like I was something she scraped off her shoe.
Mine.
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Edith’s voice had taken a less joyful tone.
Good. Let the bitch squirm.
“She’s been mine for six months. Just took her a while to accept it,” I said. “So, when is this party?”
Truth was, she still hadn’t accepted it. Still fought me every goddamn day. Still pretended she didn’t want me. But she would. Eventually. Because I wasn’t going anywhere.
I’d spent twenty years searching for my daughter. Twenty years of dead ends and false leads and nights where I wanted to put a bullet in my own head because I couldn’t find her.
I wasn’t losing again.
Not Grace. Not Trudy. Not a goddamn thing.
