AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He straightened in the chair, and his eyes snapped to me, hanging on my words. Before I could change my mind, I plowed forward. Wilson was moving here part-time, and I planned at the very least to count him as a friend. He should learn about my past from me. Not from gossips like Melvin at the Worn Boot or barflies at The Pub. I deserved to control the narrative of my story.
“Brian and I were the epitome of a small-town Texas golden couple. He was the football star, and I was the reigning beauty queen. We dated for years, throughout high school and college. We got married before the ink on our University of Texas diplomas dried. And got pregnant soon after.”
I let a wash of warm memories from my brief marriage flow through my consciousness. A highlight reel of the good times. Strange how that worked. It was the good times that endured, not the bad. And Brian and I had plenty of years together to create a treasure trove of lovely memories. I still missed him. Not in the debilitating way I once did, but he’d always own a corner of my heart.
“When he was killed by a drunk driver, I became the town tragedy. A widow and single mom. At first, I needed all the help I could get. Elmer rose to the challenge. It was incredible. But now... ” I shrugged and lifted an eyebrow, hoping he understood my meaning.
I captured his gaze, and we shared a look. The almost imperceptible nod and bittersweet smile were enough of an agreement for me to know he got my meaning.
“Sometimes I wonder if Bailey and I should have moved away once I got myself together. Maybe up to Dallas, where my mother lives with her second husband. Started over fresh. A clean slate, like Mom did after her divorce. Not be the widow of Elmer and her poor daughter.”
“Could you imagine living somewhere else?” He tilted his head, and confusion swam behind his eyes.
“Hell no. I love this place.” I had a complex relationship with this town, but I was never leaving. Gossip wouldn’t kill me, and I worked hard to keep it to a minimum. Tonight’s pessimism stemmed from a hellishly long day, my crispy skin, a pain pill, and honestly, a grain of truth. Sometimes I wished the town would forget about Brian. I was his wife; I’d remember him—they didn’t need to keep reminding me. The concern, on some occasions, was stifling.
“But... ” Wilson lifted an eyebrow and made anout with itgesture with one hand, encouraging me to continue.
“How do you date when you have a whole town acting as your chaperones?” I wasn’t sure if the rhetorical question referred to my life or Bailey’s. Maybe it applied to both of us. My daughter, the lucky girl, was about to escape and spread her wings. I was thankful, scared, and a little jealous of the grand adventure she had ahead. Motherhood was never simple and always heart-wrenching.
“I don’t know.” The crooked smile that twisted his lips saidif only. If only you weren’t you and I wasn’t me. And we were somewhere else. We could be something.
Our gazes locked in an odd, tense version of a staring contest. Only there’d be no winner at this table. We were both going to lose.
I huffed a near-silent laugh and looked away, breaking the connection before it became more uncomfortable. This was why I had a rule about not dating the vacationers. I could easily invest in the feelings he stirred. I’d get attached to him, and then he’d leave me heartbroken. And the town would have a new line item to add to the gossip filed under my name.
He cleared his throat before asking, “How is the burn? Do you feel any better?”
I checked in with my body. “I’m exhausted, but my skin feels better. Amazing. You should sell that stuff for sunburns; you’d make a fortune.” I poked my forearm; the red skin seemed less angry than before we sat down to eat.
“I’m not sure how many beach bums would buy a $500 jar of sunburn cream.” He tipped back the last of his wine.
“Five hundred dollars?” I croaked. People in California were insane. He was insane.
“On that note, how about some TV while I clear the dishes?” He bustled around the room while I sat in my chair. He looked anywhere but at me as he worked. And I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Those feelings I wasn’t investing in were more difficult to ignore than ever.
He swept the tray off the table and left the bedroom, mumbling something about kitchen clean-up duty. As soon as the door closed behind him, I bolted to my feet and rushed to the wastepaper bin by the side of the bed. With unsteady fingers, I counted the empty jars at the bottom. Seven.
Even with a zombie’s brain, I could do that math. Thirty-five hundred dollars.
Maybe I misread that look. It could have beenYes please, notif only.
The memory of Wilson’s caring touch as he applied the cream to every damaged inch of my skin made a sweet smile curve my lips. I replaced it with a scowl. My rules about vacationers didn’t cover unexpected acts of generosity. I’d dumped the out-of-towners into a pile of selfish jerks and never met one that distinguished himself from his brethren.
Wilson Phillips was a hard puzzle to figure out. Every time I tried to fit a piece where I thought it should go, I realized I had it all wrong.
I looked one last time at the empty jars in the trash before crawling under the blankets and focusing on the TV. I yawned and stretched, the pillow beyond inviting. A cooking show flickered on the screen; the host faced the challenge of eating a massive cheeseburger at some boardwalk restaurant in New Jersey. He had barely taken three bites when my eyes drifted closed. I dreamed of strong arms wrapped around me and the smell of Wilson’s body wash.
Chapter 17
Wilson
Ihaditbadand couldn’t deny that fact. I could lie to myself about a lot of things, but after having spent most of the night awake watching Cameron sleep, there was no avoiding the truth. She had wormed her way in, and I didn’t want to kick her out. Even if a warning light in the back of my brain blinked bright red.
She slept under the blankets, and I laid on top of them, leaning against the headboard. She’d been fitful and feverish when I’d checked on her after dinner, so I stayed. Around 2 am, she’d curled into my side, her head on my chest, finally sleeping deeply. I’d stayed in the same position since. Having her body tucked against mine was worth the discomfort in my neck and the pins and needles in my arm.
I gently touched the back of my hand to her forehead, checking that her fever hadn’t returned. Her eyelashes fluttered and I froze, fearing I’d disturbed her, but her breathing remained even, and I exhaled. She needed the rest. Her skin, while no longer glowing like hot coals, still had healing to do.
Hopefully, the Bio-ID serum would keep her from peeling. It was one of our most profitable products. We sold it at plastic surgeons’ offices to patients post-laser resurfacing procedures. The painful but effective laser treatment burned away the top layers of the skin to rejuvenate the patient’s overall appearance. When I got back to California, I would have to tell my team how effective it was on run-of-the-mill sunburns.
