Page 2 of Rugged Guardian

I squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“Right. I…wasn’t sure you were serious about coming back. It’s been a long time.”

We stand in the grocery store, our conversation stilted and awkward. The years of separation and our history hang heavy between us.

“Well,” Waylon says, rubbing his hand along his jaw and then tugging at his beard. “I should let you go,” he nods at my groceries. “It was…unexpected to see you.”

My heart races like a thoroughbred. Before he walks away, I gather my courage and suggest, “We should talk.”

Waylon hesitates, his inner conflict clear on his face. “Sure...” He trails off, discomfort plainly visible all over his face. “But not today. Harley and I have business to attend to.”

“Of course,” I say quickly, my heart sinking. I shouldn’t have come back.

Waylon moves closer until he’s standing in front of me. I nearly forget to breathe as I catch the familiar scent of fresh air and pine trees.

I watch him walk away. The sight of his broad shoulders and familiar walk set off a chain reaction of deeper emotions in me. Would he have volunteered his number if he didn’t want to at least talk to me again? Am I wrong to assume he has a wife, even if he wasn’t wearing a ring?

One question swirls in my brain as I finish shopping and head to my car.

Was coming back here a mistake?

Seeing Waylon again and hearing his voice makes me want to fall backward in time and never let him go. I know it’s impossible to change the past, especially when my family sent me to live with my aunt and forbade me from even visiting Jefferson and especially King Mountain. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing I could’ve somehow changed how things happened back then. It doesn’t stop me from wishing that our families hadn’t been mortal enemies.

The familiar scenery of King Mountain blurs past as I drive up to my grandparent’s old cabin. The winding roads, the tall pine trees, and the distant peaks are a trip down memory lane. My grandparent’s cabin is still standing strong, though now it looks a bit neglected and in need of TLC. It was once a place of joy and laughter, a sanctuary. Now, it feels more like a stark reminder of what was lost.

My mind drifts back to Waylon. I didn’t expect to see him so soon, and not like that. And the feminine products in his basket? The thought of him having a wife and family sends a spike of jealousy through me.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This is ridiculous. I didn’t come back to Jefferson to dwell on the past.

But after seeing Waylon, even for a few minutes, the past is all I can think about.

CHAPTER 2

WAYLON

Waylon, you with us?” Luke’s voice cuts through my thoughts, snapping me back to the present.

I blink and realize everyone in the room is staring at me. Luke, Reggie, Daryl, Moses, and the new guy, Dane—all waiting for me to continue. I clear my throat and rub the side of my jaw, the texture of my beard coarse against my fingers.

“Yeah, sorry. Got a bit distracted,” I admit, trying to shake off the image of Angelica that’s haunted me since this afternoon.

Reggie leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Distracted, huh? Got anything to do with a certain someone who’s back in town?”

He chuckles as I shoot him a warning look. “Come on, Waylon. You know how it is in a small town—gossip travels fast.”

“Since when are you on the gossip pipeline?” I snap, not believing my ears. When did any of my men start listening to gossip?

“Man.” Daryl laughs loudly. “Have you met our wives? I know you’re our lone wolf, but women talk, and we can’t help but hear them.”

“And have you met Marian?” Reggie asks, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “The woman knows everything. Here on this mountain and in the greater Heartland region. Don’t ask me how, but the woman knows. You wouldn’t think that many people come in here, but they do. And she listens.”

I take a deep breath, trying to push down the swirl of emotions inside me. This isn’t the conversation I wanted to have today, especially with my guys. Hearing that Marian is the center of gossip isn’t exactly news, but I certainly hadn’t realized how much she knew and heard. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at how much a bartender hears because lips loosen once they’ve had enough beer.

“Yes, I ran into Angelica recently.”

The room falls silent, and I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for more. I hesitate, not sure how much I want to share.

Luke breaks the tension. “The Angelica? I’ve heard stories about her,” he teases.

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