Page 54 of Protecting Her Secrets

After she dashes off to god knows where to retrieve her coat, Ridge pins me with a look. “Wilder told me what happened. I’m taking it you haven’t told her?”

“Nah, I will over dinner.”

“Just be nice about it. She’s been through a lot.”

I take a step back, my eyes going wide. “Have I stepped into an alternate universe where Ridge cares about someone?”

“Shut the fuck up. I like her for you. She’s sweet and, despite everything that’s happened, she has an innocence about her that makes her curious about the world. It’s inspiring.”

“You’re going to paint her, aren’t you?” I ask.

“That’s why she’s going downstairs to get her coat. I had her pose for me.”

I point a finger at him. “You better not sell that shit to anyone but me.”

Ridge laughs as Skylar reappears. “Thanks for such a fun day, Ridge. I know babysitting duty wasn’t how you wanted to spend your day, but I’m glad you gave in.”

“No problem,” he says as Skylar wraps him in a hug. I have to cover my laugh when he awkwardly pats her back, as if he has no clue what she’s doing. “I had fun too.”

“Come on, sweetheart. I wanna take you to dinner.” I pull her away from my friend and give him a wave as we leave.

“Where are we going for dinner?”

“There are exactly two places to eat in this town: the diner or Mr. Chang’s Donut House.”

“Eh, I’m not really in the mood for donuts, so maybe the diner?”

I chuckle as I help her into the passenger seat and take the liberty of buckling her in. She clucks her tongue but allows it. “Mr. Chang retired ten years ago and they don’t actually serve donuts anymore. A guy named Lance bought it, and he serves Greek food. The Donut House has been there since the town was founded in the 1950s though, and it felt too much like a local landmark to change the name.”

“That’s not confusing at all.”

I pull out of the driveway. “Not for us, but it does confuse the tourists.”

She looks back at the empty bed of my truck. “Did you already take my stuff to your house?”

“I need to talk to you about that.” I take her hand across the bench seat.

Her tone turns instantly suspicious. “What?”

She remains stoic as I explain the situation. Even after we’re parked in front of the diner and we both take our seatbelts off so we can face each other, she shows no emotion. I hold back on a few details that will do her no good to know, like the graffiti, but I tell her everything else.

“It’s all gone?” she asks after I’m done.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “There wasn’t one thing we could salvage.”

“Okay, well, I have some money saved up, so for now, at least I can replace the essentials.” She hops out of the truck, and I meet her on the other side.

“That’s it?”

“What’s it?”

“I just told you everything you own is destroyed.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I hold the door open to the diner, where Lavanya is right there to welcome us with a beaming smile. The short, plumpIndian woman has her black hair pulled back into a tight bun and is wearing a traditional dress in blue and cream. She and her husband, August, an old white hippie who smokes too much dope, have owned the diner since I’ve been here, though I’m certain it has been much longer than that. They’re an unusual match but real down-to-earth and welcoming.

“Who do you have here, Walker?” Lavanya asks in her thick Indian accent.

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