Page 69 of Catch
Blue laughed, then got pulled to the other end of the bar. I turned to find West leaning against the wall, eyeing a group of people playing pool.
"Want to play a quick round?" I teased, knowing full well he’d say no.
"I just need to get the hell out of here." He pushed the door open and stepped outside quickly. I followed, laughing.
"I know Fiddlers isn’t your scene, but we can walk at a casual pace."
"So, he’s not here,” he noticed, changing the subject. “Does this have anything to do with Loxley?"
"No idea. I got a description, though. I’ll drop you off at Grams’ and head home to Loxley."
"Are you going to tell her about it?"
"Not yet. For all I know, it could be a tax guy I’ve never met in person, a cop stopping in to say hi, or someone I arrested a while back looking for revenge."
West rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He climbed into the Jeep, clearly ready to leave. I’d wait to tell Loxley. For now, there was no sense freaking her out until I knew more.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
LOXLEY
Jesseand I had a normal conversation on the way back to Miles' house. She told me more about her son, Max, and a little bit about her candle business, which I found fascinating. She was a lot like me, finding a way to make a living off her craft. We all created art in some form or fashion, and the truly lucky ones got to do it for a living.
Despite how quick I was to run away from my life, it was never about not being thankful or proud of the one talent I had that I was able to live off. Because Lord knows there was never going to be "Loxley’s Looms." I’d never be a great fisherman, either. And we could also put a big red X on my chef skills, or the idea of ever having my own brand of whiskey.
But I could sing. I could write words and turn them into songs. I knew it was what I needed to get back to doing. I just wished I could be more like Jesse and do it my way.
"Will I see you next Sunday?" Jesse asked, referring to the next family dinner.
"Maybe," I replied. "But y’all don’t really want me in charge of dessert. I only know how to make an apple pie. Miles once said I made the best peanut butter and jelly he’d ever had, but I’m not sure that counts as a proper dessert."
"I don’t see why not. With the right ratio of peanut butter and jelly, it can be quite the sinful snack."
We laughed together, and I felt good. It had been so long since I’d spoken with a woman who didn’t secretly, or not so secretly, envy me, hate me, or work for me. The closest I’d come was the woman who did my last radio interview. If it hadn’t been for Sam standing against the wall and all of my rehearsed answers, I could’ve chatted with her all day.
Just as we were pulling up to the house, Jesse’s phone buzzed with a text message.
"It’s Miles. He just wanted me to tell you that it was a false alarm, but he’ll be home soon."
I smiled, excited that I wouldn’t have to wait long for him to get back. I knew it was stupid, but I was almost jealous of Blue. It was the second time she’d called and he’d gone running. Although I knew it was because he was a cop, I couldn’t ignore that she called even on the nights he was off.
I said a quick goodbye to Jesse, letting her know I couldn’t wait to see her again. Then I used the key Miles had given me off his ring to get into the house through the kitchen. I wasn’t sure how long it would take Miles to get back, but I thought that being naked in his bed, legs spread open, would be a good way for him to find me.
For a few minutes, though, I wanted to sit down with the guitar he’d let me borrow and sing the song that had been running through my head all evening. But before I could even settle the guitar in my lap and tune it, I heard a noise at the back door.
"I can’t believe he pulled me over for eight miles over the speed limit when he must’ve done a hundred to get here that fast," I said to myself as I crossed into the kitchen. I looked up, ready to wrap my arms around Miles’ neck as he came in. Itwouldn’t be as sexy as being naked in his bed, but that would be his own fault for being a speed demon.
Unfortunately, the door never opened. But I could tell someone was out there because I saw the shadow through the curtains.
"Miles?" I laughed, pulling the door open. "What are you?—"
But it wasn’t Miles. It was Sam, his phone open in his hand, eyes darting between the screen and the house before they landed on me. His expression shifted to one of smug satisfaction.
"Well, I guess I’m in the right spot, sweetheart. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes."
"Sam, what are you doing here?" I demanded, stepping back.
"Don’t play dumb, Loxley," he said with a shrug. "You knew I’d be out trying to find you. I’ve been personally visiting every police captain from here to Nashville to ensure your safety."
