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He turned and walked off. Glaring at his back, Vivian thought,I can’t stand that arrogant jerk! Then she stomped after him. People moved out of their way, giving the two a wide berth as if sensing the tension between them and wanting nothing to do with it.
They shouldn’t. For some reason she couldn’t explain, Vivian was ready for a fight. Nash didn’t mean anything to her, yet she was irritated that he’d turned his back on her. It didn’t make a lick of sense, but she couldn’t stop herself from chasing after him.
Catching up with him, she snapped, “Hey, just because I’m from the city doesn’t mean you can treat me like a second-class citizen.”
He refused to look at her. “If that’s the way you feel, it ain’t because of me, lady.”
“My name isn’t lady. It’s Vivian. Use it,” she demanded. That shouldn’t matter to her either, but the way he called herladymade all of her nerves prickle.
“You know,” he said with a chuckle, “I thought you were sweet out on the side of that road. Man, how wrong first impressions can be.”
“I am nice! You’re the one who’s acting like a jerk. Actually,” she amended, “I don’t think you’re acting at all. Youarea jerk!”
“Sticks and stones,” he responded, refusing to argue with her.
Why did that piss her off so much? It shouldn’t. It really shouldn’t. Vivian was steaming, and she didn’t understand why. He was nobody to her. He was nothing. But she couldn’t shake the need for his approval. Or…something.
When they reached the structure that was selling handcrafted alcohol, he finally stopped, giving Vivian time to catch up and think. She wedged herself in between him and another man, jabbing her elbow into Nash’s side to make room for herself.
A friendly faced woman, who Vivian assumed was Nancy, approached them. “Hey, y’all. What can I get ya this afternoon?”
“Whatever you got on tap, Nance,” Nash said, and even though he’d meant it in a friendly way, his tone broadcasted his irritation. Nancy, poor woman, assumed it was against her, because how could she know it wasn’t, and wrinkled her brows as she turned her eyes to Vivian and let a cocked brow and half-smile speak for itself.
“Ms. Gretta said you have a strawberry wine?”
Her expression brightening, she said, “I sure do! It’s something new I’ve been working on for a couple summers. Finally got the recipe right. You’re gonna love it! Brb.”
Some of Vivian’s anger slipped. Brb? She’d only ever heard teenagers in the city talk in abbreviations. She’d always thought it was annoying, but the way Nancy used it was somehow endearing.
“You should leave tomorrow,” Nash said under his breath so only she could hear. “You don’t belong here.”
There was a pang in her chest that Vivian didn’t understand or want to. It was a sensation that she’d felt many times in the past for various reasons, and she dealt with it now the same way she did then: she balled it up and shoved it down deep until it twisted into something else. Resistance, maybe.
Nancy was heading back their way. With a false smile, Vivian said through clenched teeth, “Actually, I think I’m fitting in just fine. Maybe I’ll stay a while.”
“Here you are!” Nancy said, her bubbly personality making up for the animosity that must have been coloring the air around them. “Now make sure to savor that,” she said, pointing at the clear plastic tumbler she’d placed in front of Vivian. “It’s more of a hint of strawberry, so you really need to roll it around to get the full effect. I didn’t want it to be like those tacky wine coolers, ya know? Not that I have anything against them. Lord knows I’ve had a few dozen or ten in my day.” She whooped and slapped the table with her hand, startling a laugh out of Vivian that turned real in the next instant.
“Thanks, I’ll do that.”
“And you,” Nancy said, directing an accusing finger at Nash. “Be nice to this pretty lady.”
“But—”
“I can see that attitude a mile away,” she cut him off. “How are ya ever gonna get yourself a wife when you’re always bein’ a butt?”
She didn’t wait for a reply but walked away to start serving other customers.
“Unbelievable,” Nash protested, except no one was paying him any mind anymore. Vivian looked up just as he was looking down. Smiling, she stuck her tongue out at him then, ignoring his open-mouthed silent protest, she sipped her wine.
Wow, strawberry was better than she’d expected!
SIX
Gretta and Vivian didn’t arrive back at the homestead until nearly midnight, which, she supposed, meant that she was staying another night. If she didn’t know better, she’d guess the old woman had designed it that way. She seemed very pleased with herself.
“I’ll go get ya fresh sheets,” she said as her old body bounded up the steps and into the house. Vivian had been surprised that they didn’t even lock their doors around here. Something like that was unheard of in the city. Heck, they might as well paint a welcome sign for ax murderers.
It said a lot about the area. Either the town was full of crazies, or they were hoping to gain some. As Vivian followed Gretta into the house, she stopped to lock up. It just didn’t sit well with her to go to bed knowing anyone could walk inside without them knowing.Too much trust, she thought to herself yet again.
