Page 18 of Wish You Were Mine

“Trying to make these useless losers feel okay about themselves.” He shook his head at Eden. “You’d do better for them if you told them to get their fucking act together. Maybe if they had, that woman would still be alive.”

I forced myself to make eye contact with him. His deep-set eyes burned with loathing.

“Maybe,” Lionel gritted out, “if good old Asher was more concerned with doing his job than being everyone’s favorite town hero, I’d still have full use of my goddamn leg.”

To my right, I was vaguely aware of Maia staring him down.

“I’m very sorry for what happened to Susan Warner, but we aren’t doctors,” she said. “We have limited tools, and if someone is dead, unless it happened in the past couple of minutes and all their parts are in reasonable working order, then they’re dead. It doesn’t matter how hard we try. We aren’t miracle workers.”

“Aaand here’s your coffee, Mr. Lowry,” Eden chirped brightly, holding out a takeout cup to the grizzled former farmer. “Have a lovely day.”

With a grunt, he snatched the coffee from her and limped out. My shoulders slumped as the door swung shut behind him.

“What was that?” Maia asked, digging her elbow into my ribs. “Why didn’t you say something to defend us?”

I shrugged, my heart heavy. “Honestly, some days I feel like he might be right that we should try to do more.”

A sharp pain throbbed on my forearm.

“You pinched me,” I exclaimed, stunned.

“Because you need to snap out of it,” she hissed, glancing around as if to make sure we weren’t being eavesdropped on—which we definitely were. “Lionel Lowry is a sour old coot. He was one before the accident, and he’s even worse now. There was no saving his leg, just like there was no saving Susan Warner. Have you—?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Have I what?”

She bit her lip, her eyes darting around again. “Have you seen a therapist lately?”

“No.” I shifted uncomfortably, hoping that, despite their interest, no one could hear our whispered conversation.

“Maybe you should. If you’re internalizing all the awful things people say, you need to find a healthy way to work through it.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I have coping mechanisms.”

Like cycling, loud music, and cuddling with my cat.

“You can ignore me if you like,” she said as Eden passed our drinks over. “Just think about it.”

I didn’t reply, and together, we left the cafe. As soon as we were outside, her phone rang.

She raised it to her ear. “What’s up? Oh, no. Sure. Of course. I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and pocketed her phone. “Aroha has a fever. I need to get home. Are you going to be okay?”

“I always am.”

For some reason, that didn’t seem to reassure her, but worry for her daughter outweighed her worry for me, and she gave me a little wave and left.

I finally allowed every trace of a smile to fall from my face.

Christ. What a mess.

I definitely wasn’t in any shape to be at home by myself. I needed a distraction. I racked my mind, and as Summer’s Ute crawled past, driving toward the veterinary clinic, I got an idea.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a message.

Asher: Want to go sky diving with me?

Toby: Fuck, yeah. When and where?

Asher: I’ll be at your place in ten.

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