Page 46 of Chasing Forever
“I complain about your family, but mine’s no better,” Lottie mutters on her way back to the vehicle.
I jog down the steps. “They’re wildly different. And just so you know, you’re not getting a good night kiss anyway. So don’t try anything funny when you walk me to my porch.”
Her laughter is unguarded, ringing out into the quiet night.
I’ll wait on that good night kiss as long as she keeps laughing when it’s just the two of us.
Chapter Nineteen
Lottie
After Friday night, I don’t see Brooks for the rest of the weekend. There’s no morning smirk, no slow swagger as he approaches, no door chime announcing his arrival. It was just quiet. Not that I missed him. I was absolutely, totally fine. Like, throw me a divorce party, I’m thrilled.
I saw him in his squad car down on Route Twelve late Saturday night, so I know he was working. I didn’t give him an ounce of my attention. Just breezed on by as if I didn’t want to pull my car over and ask him what game he’s playing.
Since it’s Monday, I mentally prepare for him to come in. I brew the coffee, the arabica one I know he likes best. But at nine o’clock, I change the closed sign to open, and the coffee I made for him sits cold on the counter. I tell myself it’s a good thing. A sign. An omen. The Vegas gods have finally granted me a clean break. Maybe the date on Friday night turned him off, and he’ll show up with the annulment papers one day this week. I’ll sign them so fast I’ll get a paper cut. It would be a good thing.
“So sorry I’m late.” Saylor rushes in, half running to the backroom. She’s newer, a recent hire after returning to our small town.
I continue straightening out the cheeses, hoping most of them sell before the rush for our goat cheese that’s supposed to arrive on Wednesday. That stuff has a cult-like following, I swear.
Saylor is already putting on her apron in the back when I start putting Jensen’s famous chicken salad into smaller containers.
“I’m sorry again. I woke up late.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like there’s a line outside.” I smile to let her know I’m honestly fine with it. “Hopefully there’s a good story as to why you woke up late.”
She looks confused.
“Like there was a warm body in your bed.”
She blushes.
“I’m right?” My voice lifts with surprise. “Who?”
She’s already shaking her head before I finish asking. “No one really… I mean…”
The bell above the door rings, and we both laugh.
“Your savior just arrived.” I wink at her.
Her smile is nice to see as she disappears into the storefront. She’s been a little depressed recently. Coming home after what this town deems a failure is the hardest first step to take. I don’t know a lot about her backstory, but honestly, I get it. This town doesn’t make it easy to return, let alone lick your wounds.
I overhear her welcome whoever it is to The Harvest Depot. Then I hear the voice. His voice. And every nerve ending in my body betrays me. It’s as if it wants to drop the ice cream scoop in the bucket of chicken salad and run to Brooks like he just stepped off a Navy ship after months away.
Oh no. Nope. This is not happening. Get a grip, Lottie.
Saylor dips her head into the small cutout window we pass sandwiches through during our lunch rush. “Someone’s here to see you.” She lifts the coffee mug. “He’d like a fresh cup of coffee.”
I bet he would.
Saylor is a smart woman and probably already knows about the Vegas wedding and that Brooks is technically my husband, but she’s too nice to ask me directly. I should probably grant her the same favor and let the subject of who rocked her world last night go.
“I’ll be right out.” I finish the container of chicken salad. Slower than necessary, I fill the plastic containers, weigh them, and slap on the sticker. Just so he knows I’m not at his beck and call.
With my arms full of chicken salad to put in the fridge area, I walk through the doorway, purposely not granting him my attention.
“Black coffee with a little bit of cream and one sugar,” I tell Saylor.
