Page 97 of Play Book

“Underneath the gruff exterior, there’s a tender, caring man,” I say with a smile. “He’s a little rough around the edges, for sure, but there’s so much more to him than meets the eye.”

“He’s nice to look at,” Stevie says with a chuckle.

“But it seems soon for the L word, no?” Harper asks.

“Well, it wasn’t like we used the word directly, and then we started talking about how if things are still going well by fall, maybe moving in together.”

“Seriously?” Chey looks delighted. “That’s awesome.”

“I didn’t have you and Canyon getting together on this year’s bingo card,” Harper says with a giggle.

“To be honest, I kept telling myself it was just sex, just friendship, just friends-with-benefits…” I say with a fond smile. “But he keeps surprising me.”

“Are things any better with you and Ally?” Bailey asks.

I sigh. “No. That’s a bit of a chink in the machinery, but I’m trying to give her time and space.”

“She’s so angry,” Stevie says softly. “I’m doing my best to show her that you’re not the enemy, but she’s stubborn and determined not to allow anyone in who might be a replacement for her mother.”

“No one will ever replace her mother,” I say. “Canyon keeps trying to tell her that, but the therapist says it’s just a matter of letting her come to terms with all these changes in her life.”

“If you and Canyon are already using the L word,” Bailey says, “you’re going to have to talk to her about everything.”

“That’s up to him. I don’t want to push myself on her.”

“I’m working on her,” Stevie promises. “You just focus on being happy. You’ve waited a long time for the right guy.”

I have.

Now I just have to figure out if it’s Canyon.

I’ve just pulled up to my parking spot in the alley behind the gallery when I see the graffiti.

Big red letters.

On the back door.

SLUT.

My stomach clenches, and I squeeze the steering wheel.

Why does this keep happening?

Tears unexpectedly prick my eyelids, and my fingers shake as I call Rage.

“Hey, Saylor, what’s up?”

“He did it again,” I whisper.

“What? God dammit. Where are you?”

“Behind the gallery.”

“I’m coming. Are you safe? Do not go inside.”

“I’m in my car, and I won’t.” I disconnect and stare at the bright red letters.

Who is this person and why is he or she doing this to me?

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