Page 46 of Loathe at First Sight

He chuckles. “Something like that.”

He slips my shoe off so that he can get a better angle to wrap my ankle. As he’s working, he says, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“What?”

“I was late. And you fell and got hurt.”

“Yes, Jack. It’s your fault that I’m clumsy,” I joke. “You don’t need to feel bad. I’m a big girl.”

As he looks up at me, I swear I think I finally see something behind that gruff exterior of his. Maybe he’s not all asshole.

That fact should be obvious by the way he carried me to his truck and wrapped my ankle. With the way he and I have been going at it, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had just left me on the trail. I might have done it to him.

Being nosey, I ask, “So, where were you? Tow truck emergency?”

“Uh, no. Actually, I was having breakfast with a five-year-old.”

“Come again?”

“Do you know Jana, the bakery owner?”

I nod.

“She has a granddaughter who has taken a liking to me. She had a breakfast thing at school this morning, and Jana couldn’t go, so she asked if I could fill in.”

That may be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.

But I don’t dare say that. As cute as it may be, there’s no way I’m going to let myself feel any type of way about this man. He and I are exact opposites, and as far as I’m concerned, that whole opposites attract line is bullshit. All we would do would be annoy the crap out of each other.

When he finishes wrapping my ankle, he says, “Scoot in. I’ll give you a ride to the inn.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.

“Are you going to walk?”

“Point taken,” I say, turning around to face forward in the seat.

He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat. On the way, he says, “Okay, I have to ask you something.”

“Alright. I guess you’ve earned it,” I joke.

“Ever since you got back to town, I’ve heard a lot of wild stories about why you came back. Just wondering if any of them were true.”

I should have known that the questions would start eventually.

“What are some of the theories you’ve heard?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“That you are running from the mob. That you went crazy and set your house on fire. Oh, and that you needed psychiatric help, so you have been in rehab all this time.”

I let out a deep sigh. “Any of those would be more fascinating than the real story.”

He looks at me, waiting for me to continue. “Let’s just say that I made some bad business decisions. I put my trust in the wrong people, and it backfired.”

Running his hand over his scruff, he says, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, you and me both. What about you? What were you doing before you came to Lilly Leaf Falls?”

That question seems to flip a switch inside of him. The glimpse of a sweet guy underneath the rough exterior disappears, and he puts the stoic mask right back on.

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