My last job required me to know how to read people, and what I’m reading from Blake is that there’s still something deep inside her that seems to know to not trust me fully.
I should be grateful she has that instinct. After all, it’s correct.
How can I expect her full trust if there’s a part of me that will never be accessible to her? A part she will never know?
It shouldn’t matter, but it does.
But if that sting of loneliness is something I have to bear for the rest of my life to keep her in it, then so be it.
I read a few more pages, but even Dante’s not doing it for me right now. I’m antsy to see Blake.
Fuck it.
I get to my feet and pull on my jacket. We were supposed to meet at the bookstore after her shift, but I’ll just pick her up from work, and we can go there together. When I showed her some pictures the agent sent me, she squealed in excitement. She was more animated than I’ve ever seen her, her eyes shining with emotion.
My chest swells. When did I go from wanting things from her to wanting to give her everything? I don’t know. But seeing her happy was even better than putting Brett in his place.
It’s snowing lightly as I drive to Frostbite, and flurries land on the windshield. I get a text from Sandro saying he’s dropping off some wallpaper I ordered for the bigger bedroom upstairs, the one I’m planning on moving Blake and me into. The view’s better, and there’s more light in the mornings, which Blake likes.
I send him a quick voice message letting him know I’m out, and that he can let himself in with his key.
Frostbite comes into view. I pull into the parking lot and glance around.
Blake’s car isn’t here. Did I miss her? She shouldn’t be off for another ten minutes. Maybe she parked at the back.
As I get out of the truck, a familiar silhouette catches my eye, but it’s not Blake.
Brett is standing by the entrance of the restaurant, smoking a cigarette. His posture is relaxed, but his eyes track my every move with a sharp intensity that sets me on edge.
I walk up to him. “Is Blake inside?”
Brett puffs on his cigarette. “You just missed her.”
A feeling of unease settles in the pit of my stomach. Something about the way he looks at me, the way he speaks, sets off warning bells in my mind.
I should have just called Blake instead of trying to surprise her. I turn to leave.
“Rowan, hold up.”
There’s a weird lilt to his voice. And when I turn around, he’s got a smile on his face that doesn’t look quite right.
He takes a drag of his cigarette. “I always knew there was something off about you. When you bought Handy Heroes, I wondered who is that guy, and where did he get all that money?”
My fists clench. Where is he going with this? Fuck, this guy just doesn’t know when to quit.
He sniffs. “You’ve got no roots in Darkwater Hollow, and you clearly had enough money to settle down anywhere you wanted. So why here? It never made a lot of sense.”
“Is there a point to your rambling? If so, spit it the fuck out. I don’t have all day,” I growl.
His eyes narrow. “You made a big mistake, you know?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Shouldn’t have pulled a gun on me.”
Something’s wrong. I can’t explain it, but I’ve got this sudden urge to get the fuck out of here and find Blake.
I turn around and start walking back to my car.
