Page 23 of Give Me Perfect Love

Something beyond this town and I wanted that so badly I could taste it.

He wasn’t like the other men who came into the diner. He was nice and kindhearted. He always tipped well, and I didn’t have to put up with bullshit from him like I did from the creeps.

Mills was a rarity in men.

A true gem.

He sweeps a hand through his longish hair. “That’s good to hear, Kathrine. Real good to hear.”

Mills never knew about my personal life. I didn’t speak to anyone about that, but he knew enough to know I wasn’t happy here and he wasn’t blind to the bruises. But he never called me out on it and I was grateful.

I’ve never been good at talking about the things I’ve gone through, and it wasn’t any easier while I was going through them.

“So, what are you doing here? Just stopping in?”

He nods with a cheek full of beer. “Yep, but you never told me why you were back.”

I clear my throat. “Saw…” I correct myself. “My stepdad died.”

“Oh.” Is all he says before taking another sip. He gets a look in his eye that tells me maybe he knew more than he let on all those years ago.

“Good riddance,” I say, lifting my bottle with a slight chuckle. He looks at me and nods, lifting his beer. We clink bottles and I swallow back a mouth full.

Good riddance to them all, I think to myself.

“K.”

I whip my head at the sound of a baritone voice I know all too well.

Bryce stands behind me, tall, void of emotion.

A loose snapback covers his head and his hands are shoved into the pockets of his black leather coat that covers a gray hoodie. His head is slightly tilted as his eyes bounce between Mills and me.

His eyes look tempestuous, his strong jawline tight.

Dark khaki pants cover his legs and he wears boots instead of his Nikes.

I exhale slowly, not ready for him. Not ready for the shit storm I see in his blues.

“Friend of yours?” he asks, lifting his chin at Mills.

“Yep. Bryce, this is Mills. Mills, this is my friend Bryce,” I say, waving my hand between the two.

“Friend,” Bryce says with a sadistic smirk and a slow nod of his head. He sucks his teeth and lifts a finger at the bartender who walks over.

“Bourbon and,” he looks at my empty glass, “whatever this lady wants.”

“Just water, please,” I say, knowing I don’t need any more liquor.

Bryce looks to Mills in question.

“I’m good, man. Thanks,” Mills replies.

Tension grows and silence between us all stretches the minutes.

“So, what brings you?” I ask Bryce.

“You,” he says straightforward with a lift of his brows. He doesn’t take his eyes off me and I swallow. “You from around here?” Bryce asks Mills after a long pause.

---