Page 23 of When Sky Breaks

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

A weary but warm smile crests his face. “Being here is enough, sweetheart. Just don’t spend all your time worrying about me that you forget about yourself.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

sky

Although I read a lot of mystery novels, I’m horrendous at stakeouts. This wasn’t the plan I had for today, but after Foster invited Johnny to dinner tonight, it seemed appropriate to further torture myself and monitor August. From afar. Or, in this case, from the bookstore windows.

Logical, right? This way, there’s no chance of the two of them meeting, and I can keep a healthy distance from the man who refuses to leave my thoughts.

The book I’m holding in front of me is some archaic tome on mathematics that smells musty but is tall enough to do the job of hiding me in case August glances across the street.

“Sky, honey, what on earth are you doing? Since when do you read old textbooks?” Ginger asks, pausing in front of me with a hand on her hip and glasses halfway down her nose.

After a brief reunion, she got busy with customers and I got busy staking out my ex-boyfriend, whom I hate with the intensity of a thousand suns. Can’t very well tell her that.

My face burns. “Would you believe me if I said I’m studying?”

She arches a brow. “For what? To teach math to a bunch of octogenarians? Because that’s about how old the book is. What shelf did you find that ghastly thing on? Must have missed it when I did my last inventory.” She peers past me to across the street and turns back with a knowing expression on her face. “Oh. Now I see. Whatever happened to you two, anyway?”

I shrug and shut the book, sputtering when a cloud of dust rockets into my face. Ginger smirks and holds out her hand, and I gladly fork it over.

“Too much. That’s what happened. Just…surprised to see him here.” Surprised is a vague word for it. More like gutted, anxious, and almost sick over the thought of running into him. Thus, the stakeout.

“We all were. But Colonel convinced him.”

“I know you two—Colonel, I mean—were kind of close.” There was loads of speculation, but I never learned if they got together. If they could make it work, then there’s hope for everyone else.

She waves her hand about. “Sugar, it’s okay to ask if we were ever together, and the answer is yes. We still are. He’s sweet as pie on me. But if you’re really asking if August is single, then I’m happy to report he is.”

The look on my face makes her laugh. “Oh honey, you can’t hide your feelings for nothing. Doesn’t matter we haven’t seen it in forever, but that blush over August Moore is still the prettiest shade of pink.”

I flush further and decide maybe this wasn’t the best place to stalk an ex. Or anyone. Small-town folks know everything and aren’t afraid to state any opinions. If she only knew the truth I’m struggling with. Or the fact August and I did some very naughty things in her store.

“It doesn’t really matter. I’m seeing someone else.”

She arches a manicured brow. “Really, now? Would it happen to be that strange, handsome man I saw at the grocery store? He looked fancy in his dress pants and such. Marge, over in the deli, couldn’t look away. Said if he was available she was going to set him up with her daughter.”

If I could melt into the carpet, I would. “Uh, yes. Johnny. But it’s nothing major, still pretty new. Just casual.”

Ginger studies me like an insect under a magnifying glass. There’s a good chance the whole town will know before Johnny even rings my doorbell tonight.

“Is he a good guy?”

“As far as I know, yes. He’s a doctor and good with his patients.”

“But is he good for you?”

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself.

He’s the opposite of August, and that’s exactly what I need to move on. Yet, here I am, stalking him while my old boss peers into my soul.

But Johnny is good, even if he’s a little shortsighted. None of us are perfect.

“Sometimes what’s good for us isn’t always what we want, but what we need,” I speak to Ginger, but my focus is on Snaps.

Maybe it’s time to let August go for good and quit this silly game I’m playing with myself. It might be better to leave him in the past and forget he’s in the present. What good could come from speaking to him after all this time? I imagine a lot more heartbreak. I already went through it once, not sure I can handle it again.

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