Page 57 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

A proud smile curves River’s lips. “She’s a good mom.”

“She is.” I nod. “I see a lot of parents come through my classroom who aren’t. Makes me realize that even when I thought I had it bad as a kid, it could have been worse.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“Not too far away. About an hour and a half south.”

“Why’d you move up here?”

I turn to her, surprised. “I’m sorry, are you trying toget to know meor something?”

“Not really. I’m just trying to distract myself from the hunger that’s ripping through my stomach so I don’t skip this ridiculous line and start stealing treats right off the counter.”

“There are three people in front of us now. The line isn’tthatridiculous.”

She shrugs, and we move up again.

“Now two.”

She growls, and I laugh.

Pushing to her toes, she bobs side to side, trying to see what’s going on in front of her, her patience wearing thin as the old couple at the counter—who I’m fairly certain were around when the dinosaurs were—move slowly.

Her legs look long encased in her skinny jeans, and I know it’s an optical illusion because she barely comes up to my shoulders on a good day.

The mustard and black polka dot shirt she’s wearing rides up at her movements, giving me a peek at her skin.

And now all I can think about is last night.

How good she looked in the moonlight doing whatever fucking pose she was doing. She could have been down there making shit up completely and I wouldn’t have known. I’d have watched her all night if I could.

The last of the line in front of us disappears and we step up to the register.

The woman behind the counter blinks twice, clearly surprised to see us.

“River. Dean. You’re here…together?” She phrases it as a question, her curious eyes darting between us.

“Yep.” I smile at her. “Just grabbing some dinner, Darlene.”

“Together?”

I try to hide my laugh, but it’s difficult, especially when I can feel the annoyance coming off River in waves.

“Yes. Together. May I please have a coffee and a slice of cherry first, then a Don’t Go Bacon My Heart.”

“I’m sorry, River, but you just missed the last of the cherry.”

Her hazel eyes fill with fury.

Uh-oh.

“What?”

The word is clipped, and even Darlene takes a step back.

“T-Terribly sorry, dear. We sold out just a few minutes ago.”

“But it’s Saturday night! You always have cherry pie on Saturday nights. Everyone’s so ecstatic for pecan day that the cherry slips under the radar.” River’s eyes fall to slits. “It was that dinosaur man, wasn’t it?”

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