Page 32 of Scent of Home

I stay by the back, watching. Finn chats to everyone, seeming to be everywhere. A woman with gnarly fingernails grips his jaw and kisses his cheek. A huge barrel-chested man slaps his shoulder. People laugh and chat to him, and he glows under their attention.

This is his courtroom, I realise.

No, this is how I used to feel. I haven’t felt like this for a long time.

Locke is laughing with the ladies, and someone’s brought out a deck of cards, and the three of them have gained an audience. I linger, unable to tear my eyes from him. He laughs, he’s charm and freedom and something else that I want.

Shane’s words repeat in my head, and I feel ill. I turn away from him.

I look out the window, into the dark night, and wonder about Shane and Bray.

This town isn’t as straightforward as I thought it would be. Small doesn’t mean less complicated.

I walk to the bar and perch on a stool.

Finn catches my eye and grins. His teeth are white and even, but it’s the pure happiness that has me uncharacteristically grinning back.

“How’d it go?”

I shrug.

Finn’s smile drops, and he exhales roughly. “I don’t know why those two hate each other.”

I consider him for a long moment, in shock and a little bit of awe. Is it possible to be so blind? The sexual tension between Bray and Shane is off the charts. Just being in their orbit leaves my panties wet.

“They don’t hate each other,” I mutter, but he’s turned away. He grabs three bottles of beer and puts them on the bar in front of three young men.

“Hey, Benny!”

“Where’s Bray?”

“He took off.” Finn says.

For some reason, this upsets the kid. I lean close to him. “You know Bray well?”

His chest puffs up. “He’s teaching me how to fix cars.”

“Wow!” I say, and it’s not feigned. I really mean it.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy.” He glances around and leans in close. “No one appreciates him-”

“That’s because he’s a no good piece of shit, crook!” A voice barks behind us.

I twist on my seat, taking in the young woman behind us. She sucks on her beer, and then looks me up and down. I have an urge to slap her upside her head.

Her hair is chestnut brown and shiny, and her singlet is a few sizes too small, leaving a lot of flesh up top spilling out. Her jeans are also painted on. I don’t care about any of that. What I do care about is the way she narrows her eyes at me like I’m competition.

I’m not competition. I’m the whole fucking game.

I turn back to the bar and ignore her.

“Seriously, Bray should be run out of town and never be allowed back.” She’s desperately trying to get a rise out of me.

I have to resist rolling my eyes.

“Jess!” Benny hisses. “Don’t talk about him like that. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s a piece of shit.”

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