Page 49 of Second Chance Baby

As if I could watch her get naked with some dude who wasnotme. Had I recently suffered some mental issue without being aware of it? How did I think I’d be able to watch that without jumping up to punch the damn TV?

I loved my damn TV. I didn’t want to have to buy a new one right when I was trying to save money—since my modeling days were probably the next thing to finished, our latest possibly viral near-porn shoot aside.

At least I had a line on a new position with Gideon and my brother. It wouldn’t pay that much unless I decided to put in a ton of hours, but what the hell else did I have to do while Carrington was in school? I wasn’t used to staying in one place, and to be honest, traveling around so much gave me less time to think.

To dwell on shit in my past I’d made a righteous mess out of. We might be able to close the door on that and move forward now, but until I had my ring on Bridget’s finger, I wouldn’t feel certain.

Carrington darted up a nearby aisle and started squealing. “We gotta get these too.”

I had no clue what she was referring to since Bridget had gone off to get a cart and was now attempting to muscle the nearest boxed skeleton into it. I took over for her with the skeleton and she went to grab another pink cowboy hat out of the bin since the one she’d originally grabbed had been snatched off the skeleton by another overzealous mother. But she was tossing stuff here and there as if she couldn’t find one.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, wheeling the cart over to her.

“There isn’t another pink cowboy hat, and that woman stole it!” She made no attempt to keep her voice down, so I sent the woman in question a friendly smile when she looked our way with obvious disgust.

“There has to be another one,” I said placatingly, nudging Bridget aside so I could look.

“There isn’t. I dug through that entire bin. She just stole it,” Bridget repeated, aiming her death stare toward the woman she was referring to.

Who stared back at Bridget just as ferociously,

“We’ll just pick something else. What about this purple one?” I held up a purple cowboy hat, figuring that should calm the riled tempers.

But Carrington saw what I was holding up and immediately abandoned the aisle of Halloween goodness to come get in my face. “I wanted the pink one. Not purple. Where’s my hat?” Her voice pitched dangerously high.

I didn’t cover my ears, but it was a close thing.

Especially since I knew which way this whole scene was going, and I had a feeling our nakedness yesterday might not end up being the biggest topic of conversation in the Cove this week.

Usurped by cleanup in aisle three at the Halloween decoration store. News at eleven.

I stepped over to the cowboy hat thief. “Ma’am, I’m sure you can understand the pickle we’re in. My young daughter had her heart set on that particular cowboy hat, and in fact, that was her decision to put it on the skeleton.”

“So what?” The woman clutched the hat to her ample chest, crushing the wide brim against her boobs. “It’s mine now.”

“Why would you want to make a little girl sad?” Bridget asked, tossing aside the unwanted purple hat on top of the prop bin.

“The purple hat is just fine,” the other woman announced.

“Then you take it and leave the pink one my little girl wants.”

“Mom, I’m not little.”

Bridget waved a hand. “Just a matter of speaking, Care Bear.”

Then she looked back at the hat thief as she opened her tiny purse and withdrew her pink wallet.

Must be pink was the color of the day.

Bridget opened her wallet, quickly flashing a wad of green bills. “Here, I’ll make this worth your time.”

The hat thief’s eyes narrowed. “I have a kid too, you know.” Her voice lifted, verging on a screech. “Actually, two of them and both my girls actually wear cowboy hats, so, you know, we need them more. Not just for a dang skeleton.”

“Well, then you could go to the western gear store on Main Street in town instead of stealing Halloween items someone else saw first.”

The woman stepped up to Bridget, edging up to get as close as she could to her face. Which wasn’t that close because Bridget was tall while the hat snatcher was extremely petite. But anger seemed to puff her up a few inches, as did her overly teased curly hair. “I didn’t steal a damn thing. I’m holding on to it in the store where it was available to purchase for anyone who wanted it. And yanno, possession is 9/10s of the law or whatever.”

More people were joining the fray to watch by the minute. I should intervene somehow to cool down everyone’s tempers, but how?

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