Page 21 of Hearts at War

“Whoa!”

I practically ran into an obstacle on the sidewalk though, prevented from reaching my car.

“Sorry—” The apology slipped out on instinct, ingrained in me as it was in every woman who was somehow conditioned to believe she was always in the way. But I didn’t feel apologetic around him.

The solid wall I collided with just had to be none other than that smartass stranger.

Roarke.

Of course, it had to be him.

He frowned at me, likely pissed that I’d made him drop his pile of mail. Envelopes and junk mail scattered on the pavement at our feet.

“Can’t watch where you’re going?” he asked as he lowered to pick up the papers.

“Now’s not a good time to see how much you can piss me off,” I snapped before walking off. I didn’t get two feet away before I curdled with doubt. My heel landed on a flyer for the Burton fall potluck, and I cringed.

Well, shit. I had bumped into him. I should’ve been watching where I was going. Hanging my head suited my need to hide and escape, though, but I doubted he’d care about what I was going through.

Like Ashley predicted, no one cared. Not about me, not here.

I gritted my teeth and doubled back to help him collect his mail. I couldn’t not be the bigger person and try to right a wrong.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “Clearly you’re high and mighty with better things to do. Rush off to them.”

“Just—” I growled, shoving his mail at him as I squatted to chase it in the wind that picked up.

“Just what?” he challenged. “Remember to bow out of respect to her highness when she breezes by? Should I be trained to keep a width berth and make sure you have a right of way the next time I see you, just because the sun must revolve around you?”

“No.” I stood as he did. Toe to toe. Nose to nose. Neither of us backed down.

I funneled all my fury into staring at him and wishing he didn’t have to be so damn tall. I was sick of people looking down at me.

“There won’t be a next time. At least I hope not.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Because I wish I never have to see you again.”

I’d had it with people trying to break me down.

All I’d done was accidentally bump into him. He didn’t have to be an ass about it.

“Yeah, the feeling’s mutual,” he called at me as I walked away as quickly as I could without looking like I was running.

I didn’t look back.

Chapter 8

Roarke

I didn’t know much about Heather, other than what Gavin told me. Each time I saw Eric in passing at the ranch, I was half tempted to sidle up to him and ask about his quick-to-anger cousin.

But asking around about Heather James would be a sign that I was interested. Or curious. Either could be taken far out of line and interpreted as something much more serious than it was.

Having some more details about the curvy, raven-haired woman might ease this stupid habit of thinking about her. If I knew something else about what made her who she was, I doubted I’d spend half the time that I did on trying to figure her out. On wondering.

Simply put, I couldn’t get her off my damn mind.