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“I doubt a cop would want to get tangled up with a woman who barely missed going to jail last month,” I argue.
“He knows you’re a good girl. You come from a good family.”
That’s all that matters in this town. Good people from good families. Your individual actions don’t matter. If your family has been in Lindell long enough, then you’re okay. Outsiders are frowned upon. They bring change, and that’s not something the community wants.
The town folks aren’t outwardly mean to people. That would be crass. But they willbless your heartthe hell out of someone until they decide this isn’t the right place for them.
“Well, if not Cash or the Tates, then maybe consider Chase. He moved back to town a couple weeks ago too,” Mom says, hope sparking in her voice.
My nose scrunches on instinct. Something it’s done every time that man has been mentioned in my life.
Chase’s every-woman-wants-me, I’m-the-ultimate-catch attitude started early in life, and from what I can tell, it hasn’t changed. Despite his life imploding in the media recently, he’s still smiling in every picture paparazzi have snapped of him. What’s there to smile about when your wife is caught in a compromising situation with your best friend and teammate?
Only a man who thinks the world owes him everything would do something like that.
But guess what? He had to come crawling back to Lindell just like I did. He’s no better than he was the time he promised to take me to the school dance in eighth grade and then never showed up. When I confronted him about it a week later, because that’s how long it took me to catch up to him, he tossed a half-assed apology my way and then tousled my hair like I was a child, expecting all to be forgiven. I’ve hated the very sight of him ever since.
It doesn’t matter that I feel sorry for him, reading secrets about his life that never should’ve been made public. That empathy makes me a good person. Karma has a way of getting people, and I have no doubt Chase Woodson got exactly what he deserved.
Chapter 3
Chase
“I can’t do it,” Dad snaps, anger starting to bubble up.
It takes a lot to get my dad mad enough to raise his voice, but at least he’s showing some emotion right now. I’ve spent the last two weeks working hard in this damn store, and it seems he’s either dragging his feet on things that need to be done or he’s purposely trying to sabotage the efforts I’ve made.
“He’s offering fifty over what we talked about asking for it.”
“And that’s why I won’t do it.”
“Dad!” I rub my hands over the top of my head, frustrated. “You’re not making any sense. The man is willing to pay more for the store as-is.”
“I won’t sell it to that man, and I won’t sell it in this condition.” He waves his arm in the direction of the shelves. “Old Man Hinkle is out of his mind if he thinks I’ll sell this place to him. He’ll run it into the ground.”
“What does it matter what he does with it after you get paid?”
My father glares at me, the tension in his shoulders increasing. “The fact that you can even ask that means you’ll never understand.”
I take a deep, fortifying breath. This conversation is so old. We have it every single day I walk through the front door. It’s so old, I know I don’t have to ask him to explain again because he’s a breath away from doing it unprompted.
“This store was always meant to be yours.”
I shake my head, my heart hurting a little at the disappointment in his eyes.
“I never wanted that responsibility.”
He licks his lips, disappointment swimming in his eyes even though we’ve had this very conversation more times than I can count.
“Maybe the boys will want it,” he argues.
Instead of standing there and arguing with him about it, because it gets me absolutely nowhere, I walk away. I love my father, but when I came back to Lindell, I had no plans to stay very long. Buying the house was for stability for the boys. The only other place to rent in town was a duplex and there wasn’t a chanceI could go from having so much space in Detroit to less than a thousand square feet with two boys.
Renting isn’t really a thing in Lindell. Everyone owns, and houses hardly go up for sale. Moving in with Dad wasn’t even on my radar. My only option to buy in town was the Graves Estate. It was the only place available. I don’t exactly need a mansion with over nine thousand square feet and an endless list of amenities, but it’s what I ended up with. I told myself last week when I signed the paperwork on the damn thing that I could turn around and use it as a short-term rental or something when it was time for me to move back to the city. For the time being, it was our own little slice of heaven with an indoor and an outdoor pool and enough land for the kids to run and play.
“Daddy!”
The tone of Cole’s voice makes my feet move faster. I’m in a nearly full sprint by the time I round the corner.
