Page 78 of Don't Make Me Beg
His smile grows wider, and he holds up his hands. “How is it my fault?”
“You took the charger out of the box, didn’t you?”
He squints like he’s trying to remember, even though we both know he’s full of shit. “Now why would I do that?”
I roll my eyes, letting out a huff. “I don’t know. Probably because you thought it’d be fun to torture me.” I hold out my arms, gesturing to my ruffled appearance. “Clearly, it worked. Are you proud of yourself?”
This earns me a laugh as he stares at me for just a moment before finally saying, “You know what? Yeah. I think I am.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting, maybe for him to deny it, or tease me and change the subject. I definitely wasn’t expecting him to admit it. I don’t know how to respond to that, so rather than saying anything, I turn and start walking, making a beeline to Coffee Shop.
“Where are you going? Restaurant is that way.” Luka calls from behind me.
“I need caffeine, and I need to get away from you!” I call back, without giving him a second glance.
I feel my phone vibrate with a notification before he revs his engine and calls back, “I’ll be back to pick you up after work. Text me if you need anything.” Then he turns the corner and takes off in the opposite direction.
When I pull out my phone, my eyes nearly bug out of my head at the notification.
Luka Kingsley sent you $1000
Luka
For your troubles
“Unbelievable,” I mumble under my breath as I pull open the heavy glass doors. As infuriating as he is, I can’t seem to stay mad at him. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this push and pull between us. Eventually, the rope’s bound to snap.
Despite the rocky start to my morning, being here has started to shift my nerves into something closer to excitement. It feels a little like the first day of school—only this time, the work ahead of me actually feels exciting. For once, I’m doing something that makes me feel alive instead of weighing me down.
With a renewed sense of excitement, I pick up my pace, feeling a spring in my step.
The bell above the door chimes as I step inside, and the warm scent of cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla wraps around me like a hug. I inhale deeply, already feeling better.
Hazel greets me from behind the counter with a knowing smile. “Good morning, Scout. Can I assume by your outfit that you’re starting on the mural today? You know it’s all everyone’s been talking about… well, that and…” Her voice trails off as Lucy backs through the swinging door, balancing a tray of fresh scones.
Lucy’s smile grows wide when she sees me. “Oh, look how cute you look in your little painting outfit! I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. I still have that drawing you made me all those years ago posted on the bulletin board.” She gestures to the front, and my heart swells when I see the crayon drawing of the shop exactly in the spot I pinned it. It’s surrounded by doodles on napkins and Polaroid pictures taken over the years.
“You were always so talented. I hated seeing you give up your dreams to go to law school,” Lucy says as she moves the pastries to the display window.
I shake my head at the irony. Only in Ashford Falls would a career in art be more celebrated than as an attorney. I can’t imagine what my mother would say if she knew this was the kind of advice I’d regularly been given growing up. I guess it comes with the territory, though. Much like many others in this community, these women were the trusted adults I needed when my parents couldn’t be bothered.
“She’s certainly got a marital glow about her, now, doesn’t she? No wonder we’ve hardly seen your face around here.” Paige says, popping out from around the corner, carrying a tall stack of books in her arms.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to come by, it’s just been a little busy, I guess,” I say, hoping my vague explanation will suffice.
“Oh, honey. Trust me, we get it.” Lucy winks as she bumps the display case closed with her hip.
“Oh, now, Lucy. Don’t tease the girl,” Hazel scolds without looking up as she moves around behind the counter. “You know how skittish she can get.”
“We wouldn’t want to spook her,” Paige adds, her voice muffled from behind the stack of books she’s sorting. “If what I’ve heard about those Kingsley boys is true, then the poor thing is probably still in shock.”
I feel my cheeks flush and have to look away. She has no idea how right she is.
Nor do I, for that matter. Not exactly, anyway.
And I certainly didn’t realize it was all of them…
Does everyone know something I don’t? What exactly am I missing?
