Page 26 of Tough Nut to Crack

I could tell by the look in Hayes Campbell's eyes the other night that he suspected correctly why I would've gotten distracted. It wasn't until I got home and thought about it that the old self-conscious shit settled in. I let myself imagine that Mac treated me the way he did in front of Hayes because he was embarrassed about what happened between us. Like I was something he only indulged in behind closed doors where no one else would be privileged to the information. He was ashamed of me, and thathit me a little harder than it should've for a woman who has worked really hard on her confidence level.

Instead of picking up the food and walking away with both plates, I replace the cold plate of food with a fresh one. I'm trying to be the bigger person, and this is more about me and fighting that pettiness that always seems to leak out where Mac is concerned. If he doesn't want to eat the food, then that's on him. It won't be because I didn't offer the man something to eat because his kitchen is currently unusable.

I decide that if I come back tomorrow and the food has been untouched, I'll stop leaving it. I can't force him to eat any more than he could apologize for how he acted and make me feel better about myself.

I don't know how much the McGees saw, but I did hear Mr. McGee mention my last name, so he had to have known I was in the house. What I haven't heard is my name in relation to the fire, although I have heard whispers of people feeling bad for Mac and what happened at his home. I guess I should be grateful that he hasn't told people that he blames me for it. Hayes seems to have kept his mouth shut about me being there as well.

Maybe they have a pact—don't tell anyone in town that the chubby girl caused a problem in the kitchen.

I growl in irritation as I walk down the front steps, missing the last one in my distracted state and nearly falling on my ass. In my head, I blame Mac for that as well. He probably made the stairs different heights or something just to make people fall. It seems like something he would do.

I have a mild limp in my steps, having twisted my left ankle in my attempt to not faceplant in his front yard as I walk back to my car. After shoving the cold plate of food onto my passenger seat, I get my ass out of there. The last thing I want is for him to think I'm stalking him if he decides now is the best time to come home.

I feel like a complete fool as I drive away. I never should've left the bar with him that night. I never should've called him back or even shown up at his house, ready to cook for him after the way he treated me. I must be a masochist with how many times I've fallen for his bullshit.

Great sex is one thing, but being repeatedly mistreated over and over just because the sex is good seems like a mental health issue. I consider being evaluated by a mental health professional. I can't be the first woman to ignore a million triggers just because they got dicked down so well.

I take a deep breath when I pull up outside of the bookstore. We're having a little end-of-the-year inventory party. It's not really a party, butNew Year's Eve is tomorrow, and the counts have to be complete before we ring in the new year.

Several cars are parked out front as the sun sets behind the buildings.

Lindell really is a quaint, cute little town. As much as I complain about people not being willing to give my food a try, we do have some pretty incredible people here.

I use my key to gain access to the store, walking inside to the sound of feminine laughter, the scent of books and sugar enveloping me as I lock the door.

I round the end cap of new releases to see several women smiling and laughing, as well as a small table covered in treats. Madison Woodson, who recently married Chase, the hometown hockey hero, turns to me with a smile, her hand covering her very swollen belly.

"Hey," I say, giving the best smile I can manage.

The irritation where Mac is concerned is very slow to wither away, but the sight of the cupcakes on the table has the ability to shoo them away quicker than if there weren't sugary snacks on offer.

"Riley!" Sage says with a wide smile. "I was just telling Claire about your menu."

I look over to see Claire Kennedy, surprised she's here since she normally keeps to herself. Claire has recently entered into a relationship with Walker, the owner of The Hairy Frog.

"I'm over here salivating at the idea of apples and cranberries on a turkey panini," Claire says.

"Don't forget the warm and gooey cheese," Adalynn adds.

"You get free paninis if I can have one of those cupcakes," I say.

Adalynn waves her hand before resting it on her round belly. "Have all that you want."

"That's a dangerous offer," I say, clamping my mouth shut, but not one of these women raises an eyebrow at my declaration.

Not one of them is the type to judge me for having a cupcake, despite the extra pounds I have that they don't.

"I thought you would be here a little earlier," Sage says as I reach for one of the chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing.

Eating my feelings isn't exactly healthy, but it could be drugs, so I guess it isn't all that damn bad.

Instead of explaining to her where I was, knowing everyone else here would hear, I take a huge bite of cupcake, trying to use it as a distraction. I groan when the decadent flavor of the icing hitsmy tongue.

"I made that noise last week," Madison said. "It was noon before Chase let me out of the bedroom."

Adalynn and Claire both emit a knowing chuckle as if they have experienced the exact same thing with their partners.

Sage rolls her lips between her teeth to keep from smiling. She's a little more reserved when it comes to such conversations, and I thought Adalynn was too. It seems her newly announced relationship with her best male friend of forever has changed things up a little in her life.

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