Page 79 of Small Town, Big Storm

“But you hate Cedar Hollow.”

There’s that.

But…it’s alsonotthat.

“I hate what it represented, hate who I was when I lived here.And—” What Ireallyhate is that my voice gets tight when I try to talk about this shit.I exhale, try my best to not sound like the biggest pussy of all time.“But most of all,” I force out, “I hate what my dad did while I was living under his roof.”

Her hand wraps around mine.“What did he do, honey?”

Fists and words and wounds that never heal.

I touch her cheek.“Another time, Pop,” I say softly.“Hopefully not when half of Cedar Hollow is likely gathered at the end of the hall, trying to glean some tidbit to share with the Gazette.”

Soft green eyes on mine.Her fingers growing just a bit tighter.

So, I give her a little more.

Just a little.Just enough so she understands one small piece of it.

“It’s why I’m not going to walk away again,” I say, still softly.“And it’s why I won’t let Holly continue to have a life without a father who’s not in it.”

Poppy studies my face.

Then she squeezes my hand.“Another time,” she murmurs, and it’s a question.

I nod.

She nods back.

And then we slip out of the office and walk right back into the gossip epicenter of Cedar Hollow.

I’m goingto kill Shep.

“I’m told there’s photographic evidence,” he slurs, slugging back the dredges of his Storm Warning (fucker’s been downing them from the moment Poppy and I came out from the office).“But I’ve never seen them.”

“And you never will,” I mutter, sipping on my own.Then realize with my slightly fuzzy brain—I’ve been hitting the Storm Warnings too—what I’ve just admitted and lie, “Because there aren’t any fucking pictures.”

Of me with my former teammates.

Of me with the longer hair I used to sport in fucking braids.

Because my teammate, Knox, was becoming a stepdad and his daughter asked him to braid her hair.

A skill he didn’t have.

So, he found a way to learn how to give her that.

And now I’m wondering if I should call him, if I should ask him for advice?—

Yeah, no.

That’s not going to happen.

Poppy’s amused chuckle catches my attention, slams the door on my thoughts, my memories.But when I look up, she doesn’t comment, just shakes her head and keeps making a round of drinks.

The bar is full, even fuller than when I first came in.

Likely because the Cedar Hollow gossip train has left the station and everyone wants to see what Poppy and I will do.