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“I honestly don’t know how you aren’t drowning yourself in baked goods. This festival is full of them,” Bree says. Her suggestion sets off a rumble in my stomach.
“Speaking of…” I trail off and glance at the door to my mobile vet clinic. “There’s a lull.”
“And?” Mischief sparkles in her brown eyes.
“One of those locally baked goods sounds good right about now.”
“Say no more.” Bree moves swiftly out the door.
Needing some fresh air, I follow a few steps behind, exiting the converted RV and dodging the canvas canopy in order to soak in a little sunshine on my newly sun kissed skin.
Someday soon I’ll need to divulge the details of my honeymoon-that-wasn’t, but I’m not ready. As I shuffle and reorganize pamphlets on my table, I think about why that is.
My family is kind and tight-knit. Nancy and Terrance took in six kids off the streets and showed us what it meant to have a loving home. From day one, being the only girl in the family meant I have five brothers who vowed to protect me. A job they took seriously even more so after Terrance passed away.
Which is probably why I don’t want to tell them that I didn’t spend my Caribbean vacation drunk on a beach.
I didn’t come close to spending it alone.
“Spencer Stone. It’s a damn sight to see you strolling through Fairview Valley. First time back since graduation?”
“Something like that.” Spencer’s gravelly voice scrapes over his short reply. The truth of his words burrows like a thorn in my chest, deep enough that even a good inhale can’t displace it.
I resist the urgent need to turn around.
The man whistles. “That’s a long time. Twenty years, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The simple response sets off a chain reaction beneath my skin. Bumps erupt along my bare arms, a direct contradiction to the midday sun beating down. My scrub top sticks to my back where a bead of sweat rolls steadily down my spine. I freeze in place. The task in front of me is nearly forgotten as my ears perk up to the voices behind me. One in particular sets a storm rolling in my stomach.
“I heard about the accident.”
“Considering your mom used to run the town newspaper, I’m not surprised.”
The little information in Spencer’s retort clears up any confusion I had about who stopped him on the sidewalk for a chat and explains the thread of displeasure in his tone. Pete Perkins and Spencer were always more rivals than friends. Growing up the two always seemed to be in competition. For school titles, starting quarterback, and, I swallow hard,me.
Brushing off Pete’s advances in high school came easily. I never afforded him a second thought. But something about Spencer gave me pause. Maybe because my brothers were already close with the other Stone siblings. He had an in. A leg up.
Or it could be the indisputable fact that Spencer Stone always has been downright drool worthy. With his chiseled face and muscular body, he completed the package with the bad boy persona.
The night we graduated, I finally caved to the charm. He left town the next morning and hasn’t returned.
Until now.
“You know how it is around here,” Pete says.
My musings drift off as their conversation resumes.
“Yeah.” Spencer’s voice takes on a hard edge.
“All things considered, you look good.”
Spencer swears and my stomach clenches.
“I just mean the scars are hardly noticeable.” Pete goes on.
“What’s got that frown on your face, honey?” A voice roughened from years of smoking drags me from the conversation at my back.
