Page 44 of Slow Burn

Shirley and I say our goodbyes, and I leave with a spring in my step. I may not have gotten the job on the spot like I’d hoped. Even if I did get it, the minute Shirley looks into my references it’ll all be over. But I’m leaving knowing I gave it my best college try, and that’s all I can ask for.

The gears in my mind start turning.

I made a promise to Beck that I fully intend on keeping. That I’d prove to him what a softie he can be. That I know there’s a big, mushy, heart in there somewhere.

I make my way through the parkade and find my Prius, getting in and throwing my bag down on the passenger seat. My bag is like a bottomless pit, a black hole that sucks anything and everything into it, never to be found again. So I dig around for a minute or two before I find my phone, and then I navigate to Sutton’s contact.

Can you give me some contacts for animal rescues around Sage Valley?

While I wait for Sutton’s reply, I call Wade. He’ll need to be in on the plan, so I fill him in on my idea. He bellows with laughter when I explain it to him and agrees to help. I let him go when the chime of a text message comes through.

SUTTON

Have you decided to live up to your true calling of becoming a crazy cat lady?

You know I wouldn’t just have cats.

I want to throw a birthday party for a friend. Someone who could use a little pet therapy.

If you’re talking about Beck, he’s going to hate that.

I know. You in?

I love it.

Let me know how I can help.

Beck’s birthday is coming up fast. Which means I have less than a week to pull off my plan, send out invites, and book the animal rescue. Maybe if Sutton asks they’ll be willing to do her a favour.

I pull my Prius out of the parking spot and navigate through the city, making one important stop before I officially head back to Sage Valley. Eventually, I reach the highway, the road slicing through miles and miles of farmland.

When I made this drive back to my hometown earlier this month, dread had landed with a thud in my gut, curling up there and settling in. I knew what my return would mean. The whispers and gossip that would follow me through town. Pitying looks and judgemental glances had been the reason I left in the first place. I don’t know how Austin does it, but I guess Austin cares less about what people think of him than I do.

But it hasn’t all been bad. Actually, my reception in Sage Valley has been better than I’d expected. Skye and Sutton have welcomed me into their friend group with open arms, and I’ve already surprised myself by agreeing to join them for their monthly karaoke night at Lucky’s.

Still, ever since I came back to Sage Valley my sights have been set on leaving again. Getting the hell out of dodge. Like there’s something hardwired in me to run whenever anyone gets close enough to me. The closer people get, the clearer they can see all my flaws, and the more likely they are to decide they don’t like what they see.

Or I royally stick my foot in my own mouth and blurt something offensive when I don’t mean to.

It’s a toss up really. But ultimately, friendships for me always end. I figure I may as well be the one to end them first.

Today, the drive has flown by, and already the flat expanse of farmers fields now roll and dip with the changing landscape as I near the foothills. Evergreen trees dot the rocky hillsides. My heart picks up its pace as I pass the Welcome to Sage Valley sign on the side of the road. It’ll still be about five minutes until I make it into town, another ten after that until I reach Wild Sage.

With every kilometer I’ve gained leaving the city behind, the expectations of my city life have slowly fallen away, and I somehow feel freer. Lighter.

More like me.

Chapter 18

Beck

Lyla’s car pulls in the drive and winds toward me, leaving a cloud of dust behind it. I watch her drive up to the guest house and get out from where I’m seated on the porch, concealed by the shade.

That sounds fucking creepy. I’m not spying on Lyla. I just happen to be enjoying a beer on the porch after a long day of work, before I start barbecuing for tonight’s family dinner. And Lyla just so happened to come home at the same time.

Her head whips around, almost as if she senses someone watching. Her normally short frame looks long and slender in black dress pants and impossibly tall black heels, and her usually windswept chestnut hair has been wrangled into a sleek, straight pony tail that swishes down her back.

I’m not savvy about style; my outfits consist of Wrangler jeans, a t-shirt or a button down, and either a baseball cap or a cowboy hat, whichever fits the mood. That’s as creative as I get, but even I know that’s not the kind of outfit you wear to a gyno appointment. I mean, unless she makes her gyno take her out for dinner first.