Page 96 of Married to the Frenemy

“Was Mr. Grady talking about Beck?”

I whirl around, finding Maggie lingering at the top of the staircase. Her bottom lip trembles and tears glisten in her big gray eyes.

I want to lie to her. Assure her everything’s okay.

But as much as I wish I could protect her from all the pain and hurt in the world, that’s not possible.

No one has that kind of power.

“Yes.”

“Is that why he’s not here?” she squeaks out. “Because he’s scared?”

My heart aches at the sadness in her voice. “Yes, baby. He’s scared. But it’ll be okay. Remember what I always say? You and me against the world.”

She gives me a lackluster nod.

“Now come on. Let’s get to school.”

“Okay, Mama.” She shuffles down the stairs, and I help her put her socks and shoes on before leaving the house.

As I buckle her into her car seat, something that was usually Beckham’s job, she suggests, “Maybe he needs a stuffy.”

“A…stuffy?

“He doesn’t have any stuffed animals. When I’m scared, my stuffies make me feel better, especially Fred. Maybe a stuffy will make him feel better, too.”

I press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Maybe so.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

BECKHAM

“Beckham Lawrence. Been a while since I’ve seen you in here,” an older man says as I approach the counter of the hardware store.

Now that I’ve temporarily moved back into my old townhouse, I have time to make some of the repairs I’ve been putting off. Like fixing the loose faucet in the kitchen and replacing the doorknob leading out to the back porch. I’ve also been giving the place a fresh coat of paint to get it ready for whatever’s next.

Right now, I’m not sure what that is.

When word spread that Grady would be retiring, I started receiving quite a few offers from vineyards up and down the west coast. Initially, I ignored them, hoping I’d be the one to buy the vineyard. Now that I won’t be, I’ve been reaching out to some of them to see what they have to say.

I hate the idea of leaving Sycamore Falls, but the more time I spend here, the more I realize it’s probably the best thing for me.

And Haley.

“I’ve been busy,” I tell Mitch Howard, who’s owned the local hardware store here for as long as I can remember.

“Married life can do that.” He winks. “How’s Haley?”

I do my best to hide the sadness washing over me at the mere mention of her name.

This is why I need to get out of this place. Go somewhere bigger. Where no one knows who I am and my history. Have the fresh start I’ve needed for years. Where my mistakes can no longer haunt me.

“She’s busy, too,” I reply as I insert my card into the reader on the counter. I don’t know what else to say. I haven’t seen Haley in over a week now. Anytime I’ve needed to grab something from the house, I made sure to sneak in when I knew she wouldn’t be around.

Jude’s right. I am a fucking coward.

I spent a year in prison surrounded by men who committed far worse crimes than me. Yet I’m more petrified of a petite redhead and her daughter than I ever was of any of those men.

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