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Ahhh shit.
Bessy has been in charge of the Christmas fair for as long as I can remember. It’s always been a great event with all profits from ticket sales going directly to the soup kitchen to allow them to put on a delicious Christmas lunch for the families in need. TheCatch A Cowboyevent has always been a crowd favorite where the town’s most eligible bachelor is placed in the center of a ring with a bunch of thirsty women hovering around, and when the music starts, they run. First to catch the cowboy gets to go out on a date with said cowboy, and while it sounds fun and all, having a date with a random guy is not why I’m here. But on the other hand, it’s not like I need to put much effort into being the one doing the catching. Bessy needs volunteers to make the event work, and I need a little fun in my life. I suppose I can run around a ring for a little while and let someone else catch Blushing’s most eligible bachelor.
“No, there’s no special someone,” I admit.
“Oh, wonderful.” Bessy claps her hands together in glee. “I’ll put your name down for the event.”
“Sounds good.” I force a smile across my face, but the truth is, while it sounds as though it could be fun, I actually feel a little nervous. I’ve never played before. I've always been a spectator because when I lived here in my older teens and early twenties, I was never single.
What could possibly go wrong?
6
NICK
It’sofficial.I’mnotjust a concerned citizen doing something nice for a returning neighbor, I’ve crept well into stalker territory now. I was on my way to Hardin’s Hardware to check on John, and the second I saw her pop’s old truck making its way through the town center, I couldn’t keep myself from pulling to a stop across from the dog park and watching as she went about her morning.
Like I said—I’m a fucking stalker now.
I suppose it’s always a good thing to be adding new skills and attributes to your resume, right? So I can only assume this is healthy for me. Ahh shit. Look at me justifying stalking my ex around town. I’ve officially hit rock bottom.
One thing’s for sure though, I’m fucking pissed.
First rule about driving in the snow is to put chains on the fucking tires, you know, if you value your life, of course. But did she bother to do that? Hell no. I should have just left the icicles hanging from her roof last night. At least if one of those dropped and took her out, it’d be a quick, easy death, but by hitting a patch of black ice and skidding off the road, she could end up trapped in a ditch for days without anyone noticing.
Fuck, who am I kidding? If she went missing for even twenty minutes, I’d have a search party out looking for her.
I was supposed to be at Blushing Inn twenty minutes ago to fix a hole in the drywall after a shelf toppled over, but instead, I’m still hovering behind my red pickup, watching Blair through the window of Bessy’s grocery store. And fuck, seeing her last night through a window was one thing, but seeing her auburn brown hair and familiar soft smile in the light of morning is entirely different. I’ve spent years convincing myself that I didn’t miss her, but seeing her now after all this time, I can’t lie to myself anymore.
She’s so fucking gorgeous. Ox was right.
But what I really want to see is the way her eyes light up like Christmas morning when they come to mine, just like they used to. Though something tells me I’m never going to see that again. The next time her eyes light up like that will be when she’s looking at another man, and the thought guts me. Hell, how many times has it happened while she was in New York? How many men have come and gone from her life, warmed her bed, while I’ve been here pining for someone who’s never going to want me?
Fuck. I’m such a fool. I know she’s not here for me, but why the fuck can’t I walk away?
I watch as Blair makes her way through the grocery store, her phone shoved under her ear as she searches through the array of apples, picking out the best ones. I watch as she finishes her phone call and heads to checkout. She chats animatedly with Bessy, who no doubt is welcoming her back to town, but she’s probably scolding her for missing Olivia’s funeral too.
She comes out of the grocery store with Bessy on her heels, helping her with the groceries before dumping them into the back of her pop’s pickup, not even bothering to secure them. But if she wants her groceries rolling around the bed the whole way home, that’s not my business.
She moves toward the driver’s door when she pauses and glances down the street, her eyes glued to the coffee shop with longing. I roll my eyes. I suppose some things never change. She’s always had a coffee addiction, just like the rest of Blushing.
My phone goes off in my pocket, and I swiftly ignore it. It’s the third time Jamie from the Inn has called to check that I’m still coming, and yeah, I feel shitty for being late. I’m notoriously on time. I despise being late. It’s simply not me, and the fact that I haven’t shown up this morning is probably fucking with her head.
Blair waltzes toward the coffee shop, pausing by the real estate office and glancing over the pictures in the window, making my heart race.
Why the hell is she looking at properties for sale? Is she looking to move back here permanently, looking to buy a place of her own? Or is she simply checking out what’s on the market so she can sell her grandparents’ estate?
Fuck. Why the hell does this mess with my head so much?
What Blair wants to do with her life is none of my business, and yet I need to know. I don’t just want the information, I fuckingneedit. If she’s moving back here, I need to know so that I can prepare myself. I can handle her being in town for a few weeks, but if this is a permanent move . . . fuck. I know she’ll be fine, but me? I don’t know if I can survive having her this close and not being able to call her mine.
Fucking hell. What is wrong with me? I sound like a little bitch. One minute, I’m shoveling her driveway in the middle of the night and the next, I’m sulking on the side of the street at just the idea of her being near me. I need to get a fucking grip.
Blair carries on down the street, disappearing inside the coffee shop, and the moment she’s out of view, my gaze shifts back toward the grocery store. If I can count on anyone to give me town gossip and the information I need, it’s Bessy. I won’t even need to ask her what’s going on, she’ll simply volunteer the information.
My mantra that Blair is not my problem simply falls out of my head as I dart across the street, slipping inside the store like I’ve done a million times before.
Catching Bessy’s gaze as I walk in, I give her a small smile. “Hey Bess. How’re you doing today?” I ask, striding deeper into the store and beelining straight for the snacks, because let’s face it, if I’m taking up stalking, I’m gonna need snacks.
