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She mentally shook her head, desperate to quell her anxiety.
It’d be okay. She’d be okay.
All she had to do was steer clear of the sheriff and—
“Alex?”
She jerked, and her hands flew to her chest, clasping tight over her racing heart. “Sorry. I, uh...” She racked her brain for any recollection of what Roxie had been saying. And came up blank.
“No problem at all.” Roxie plastered the cheery, overbright smile from earlier back on her face. She quickly gathered her now-empty grocery bags, then eyed Alex with obvious concern before making her way to the front door. She hesitated in the hallway and turned back. “So that works for you, then?”
What?“Um, sure.” She cleared her throat and nodded. “That works great.”
“Excellent. I’ll give you a call in the next couple days. In the meantime, feel free to swing by the café any time. Good night!” With a wave, Roxie shut the front door behind her.
Alex sat rooted in place. Her mind was a mess. What just happened? Better yet, what the hell had she just agreed to?
She replayed what she could remember of their conversation over and over in her head. And each time, her memory went blank the moment Roxie had dropped the bomb that Quinn, her handsome neighbor, was the sheriff.
Whoa.Handsome?Where hadthatcome from?
Uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts, she busied herself at the sink, loading the dishwasher and reflecting on the evening.
She had never met anyone like Roxie before. The woman was definitely a bundle of energy, but she seemed kind. Caring. Alex couldn’t help but like her. She wasn’t sure exactly why, but there was something she instinctively trusted about Roxie.
She caught her reflection in the kitchen window and scoffed, shaking her head in self-disgust. “Like that means anything. You have absolute crap for instincts.”
She used to be so open, so trusting... so damn naïve. But time had a way of changing things.Prestonhad a way of changing things. Putting her faith in others was now something she just didn’t do.
Shutting the dishwasher door, she continued to tidy the already tidy kitchen and questioned why—and how—Roxie had snuck past her defenses.
What was it about the woman that tempted Alex to trust her? Was it her unguarded personality? Her friendship with Joe? Or the simple fact that Alex hadn’t had an actual friend in years?
Holy crap, wow. Let the pity party begin.
Closing her eyes, she let out a breath. And then another. Then one more.
She replaced the negative voice in her mind with the calming, soothing words of her therapist.
You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. It’s time to let go of the guilt and allow yourself to move on.
Baby steps.
A friendship with Roxie could be the first step. Joe trusted Roxie, so in friend math, that meant she could trust Roxie, too. But...
Quinn.
He was also Joe’s friend. And he was the sheriff.
Her heartbeat accelerated. And not in a good way.
Stop!They’re not all the same. Youknowthat. Preston’s in jail. He can’t find you.
With trembling hands, she tossed the kitchen towel she’d been using next to the sink and rushed from the room. She needed to shut her brain down, to stop thinking, to quit over-analyzing and second-guessing every. Damn. Thing.
She tossed and turned in bed. Her body was beyond exhausted, and she desperately needed rest. But her mind refused to settle. To drown out her thoughts, she repeated her mantra:You’re safe here. He can’t find you.
However, as Alex drifted off to sleep, curled into a tight ball, her doubts crept back in.
