Page 35 of Against All Odds

I stared at her, my chest tightening. Sable hadn’t said much about her past, but now all those little things she’d hinted at—the guarded look in her eyes, the way shedeflected compliments, the way she braced herself whenever someone brought up her past—clicked into place.

“She’s been through enough,” Natasha remarked softly, letting go of my arm.

I set my glass down. “I won’t hurt her,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Natasha.

“I know. You’re not the type who hurts people.” There were tears in her voice, and if I looked at her, I knew I’d see them. “You’ll treat her like she deserves.”

She finished her wine and was about to reach for her purse when I put a hand over it. “I got this.”

“Thanks for talking to me, Heath.”

Natasha left me alone with the bouquet and my thoughts. I stayed long after she left, staring at the flowers, which now felt almost like a challenge.

I didn’t know if I was glad she told me what she did or not. I had to be careful with Sable; that was clear. I had to make sure she understood that when I said I wasn’t looking for serious, I meant it. I didn’t want to hurt Sable inadvertently. Damaged people got bruised despite your best intentions, and, in all honestly, I didn’t know if I could handle all of Sable’s baggage, which was considerable.

But damn if I didn’t want to try. I was feeling an unusual pull to another person. It had never happened before. It might never happen again. So, while this feeling filled my chest, I wasn’t going to suppress it. I decided, as I finished my bourbon, that I was going to enjoy the hell out of it.

CHAPTER 12

sable

Iknew that the Wildflower was a localjoint, but I preferred the tourists.

Honest to God!

Tourists who filled our tables didn’t carrymybaggageas the locals did. They didn’t have the history, the whispers, or the sharp eyes cutting into me. Tourists just wanted a cold beer, a good meal, and the chance to soak in some mountain-town charm.

I leaned on the bar, wiping it down as Casey locked up the register. My headache from the day before had dulled to a faint throb, but I was still tired.Bone-tired. I didn’t think I’d make it through the end of the night without crumbling into a thousand pieces.

It had been a shift for the books. Aspen locals were a piece of work, and I realized that I was in the center of a silent war going on between those whohatedthe Vikar family for being snobs and those who thought Alexa’s shit smelled like roses.

The louder, more self-righteous group had stopped by to throw judgment my way. They’d sit at the bar, order a glass of wine or a local craft beer, and somehow find a way to work Heath’s name into the conversation. Women like Pam Gibbons, who ran a boutique on Main Street and always smelled like vanilla and condescension, leaned across the counter. “How’s Heath holding up? Alexa must be so worried about Juno going through all of this.”

Translation: How dare you disrupt their perfect family dynamic.

Then there were the men, like Doug Sanders, who fancied themselves morally superior while nursing two-for-one beer specials. He crossed his arms and glared at me even though he was talking to his friend. “It’s tough for guys like Heath, y’know. Being pulled between the mother of his kid and someone like...well,you know.” He’d trailed off but left his insinuation hanging in the air like the lingering stench of a skunk on a mountain trail.

I wiped their table down harder than necessary after they left.

The second smaller group offered me their support through…, yeah, you guessed it, whispers and innuendo. These were the people who weren’t part of the Vikar fan club and were more than willing to speak their minds.

One of them was Marla Stevens, a fiery redhead in her sixties who owned the used bookstore on Main Street. She’d walked in, plopped down at the bar, and ordered a martini with extra olives before declaring, “Good for you, Sable. Alexa’s been a pain in Aspen’s asssince she was in diapers. Someone needs to take her down a peg. And her daddy, too.”

Dale agreed with Marla. He ran the flyfishing shop on Durant Street and had a personality about as subtle as a hammer. “I don’t know why everyone’s acting like Alexa’s some saint,” he’d said while sipping his gin and tonic. “Half this town remembers how she went nuclear on her last boyfriend before Heath, and he didn’t even cheat on her. And then, her daddy went after his business. Those two are a piece of work. If you ask me, Heath’s better off with Sable. He’s lucky she’s giving him the time of day.”

I didn’t want either the support or the condemnation. If Heath and I were indeed dating, which we werenot, he’d been divorced for over two years, and there was nothing wrong with what we were doing. I think it was fair to say that he’d not been celibate since his divorce,andif he wanted to take his dick out for a spin, it wasn’t anyone’s beeswax. And if said dick wantedme,it didn’t make me a homewrecker.

But none of that mattered.

Just like it didn’t matter that Alexa had been an awful bully and continued to be one because she was the one stirring the pot now, making everyone take sides.

It didn’t matter that I hadn’t wrecked anyone’s home, either. I was the easy target. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks who’d gotten too big for her britches. This whole rigmarole was about Sable Nees aiming too high. Isn’t that what Natasha had said to me when I’d believed her ex was interested in me?

“Trailer Trash, you think he actually cared? Oh, you poor thing. He was just interested in fucking you. Oh, God. Oh, God, Sable. Did you come with him, or did you fake it? The video wasn’t clear, ya know.”

That’s how I’d found out there was documentation of myfirsttime. Adding to that humiliation was the principal calling me into his office to tell me that I had to do better than those like me who spread their legs, or I’d end up a whore.

My chest tightened at those memories, hitting me fresh and raw. Some humiliations were so intense that even now, all these years later, my ears felt like they were burning.

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