Page 79 of Chasing Forever
“I’m not pregnant,” I bite out, the familiar shame and pain turning my stomach.
“Such a disaster that was. I will say, it’s impressive. You trick my first into marriage by getting pregnant, and now you get my second son drunk so he’d marry you. Have you thought about writing a book about all the ways you trick men into marrying you?”
My fists clench at my sides. “I never asked Holden to marry me.”
She hems. “You didn’t say no when he proposed.”
“Because I loved him. The pregnancy was a—” My voice collapses. I won’t say mistake. I won’t. But I also can’t say we’d still be together if I hadn’t lost the baby. It all moved too fast. Even though it’s the early days with Brooks, I don’t remember feeling so myself around his brother.
“Yes, dear, better that it happened early.”
At the time, she told Holden the miscarriage was for the best. As though my grief wasn’t warranted and losing our child saved her from everyone finding out it was the only reason Holden was marrying me. I have no proof, but I’m pretty sure she tried to talk him into calling off the wedding immediately. It drove her crazy when Holden didn’t abandon me after my miscarriage. That he still wanted me. That her version of the story—the one where I trapped him—wasn’t proven to be true.
But the girl who once nodded politely while this woman shredded her confidence doesn’t exist anymore. I’m not going to let her interfere and destroy what I could have with Brooks. “Did you come here just to insult me again? Try to scare me away from Brooks?”
“I just wanted you to know that I’ve figured out your game, and my son might think he loves you, but he just wants to heal you, shelter you… fix you.” Her eyebrows raise at that last one.
I clench my jaw and tell myself I am not broken.
“Think about it. All the horrible trucks no one wants that he refurbishes. Taking Mack in. You know how he was the runt of his litter and no one else wanted him, so of course Brooks had to have him.” She stares at me with a pointed glare, then continues to walk around the store as if she’s actually going to buy something.
“I blame myself really. All the nature walks we used to go on… This one time, Brooks found a bird on the ground that we thought was dead. When it moved a little, he scooped it up and took it home. Guess what happened?” She doesn’t wait for me to respond before she continues. “The bird just got up and flew away. He fooled Brooks, but of course, like any good mother, I praised him for saving the bird’s life. I think that’s where his need to take in old, used-up things people don’t want came from.” Again, her gaze lands on me. She’s nearing the door. “I thought maybe he’d be a doctor, but he’s just a sheriff. Another fix-it profession. Such a savior complex, that one.”
She inches the door open with a satisfied grin. She knows she hit her mark. I’m pretty sure it’s all over my face.
“Well, have a great day, Lottie. Tell Brooks to bring you to the house for dinner sometime. I’m sure Mr. Watson would love to catch up.” She waves.
I remain quiet because nothing I say will matter. The damage she did isn’t fresh. She just reopened an old wound, and she knows it.
“Done,” Saylor says, coming out from the back.
Isn’t that the truth? I’ve been gutted in my own store.
“Who was it?” she asks.
I don’t answer. I can’t. My voice and pride are somewhere locked in my throat, but my sorrow and shame are spilling out of me.
I turn, grab my phone, and type before I can talk myself out of it.
I’m really sorry. I can’t do tonight. I forgot I’m babysitting Daisy.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Brooks
Fucking hell. I slam my tool drawer shut, and Mack whimpers, moving away from me.
Where is the woman who was all over me this morning? These past couple weeks—hell, this morning it felt real. Felt like maybe she was letting me in. What the hell changed?
“God damn it.” I clench my fists, my short nails digging into my palms.
I told her I’d be happy to go with her to watch Daisy, but she said no. Maybe the Ghost reference was too much. Too presumptuous. It was a harmless joke. Not that I’d mind her in a white button-down shirt and nothing else as I got behind her and got us all dirty and wet. That image brands into my skull, and I can’t stop thinking about it. And now I want to beat off to the image of her. God, I’m pathetic.
My phone dings on the worktable. I pick it up and see that it’s Lottie. My stomach flips, hope rising inside me. Please be asking me to come over.
Date three is booked. You’re off tomorrow, right?
I’m free right now.
