Page 18 of All Mine

“I agree,” I said, wanting to move past this topic of conversation and keep her interested in my body.

“And now you just wander the country looking for jobs?”

“More like remaining mobile to meet up with clients.” A rogue bit of hair had come loose from her bun at the temple, the wind blowing it into her face. I reached across and lightly swept it back.

She sat back and shifted her attention out over the water, whatever spell that had been drawing her in, broken. Did I move too quickly?

“So why did you decide to come back after?”

Instead of bringing her back into a conversation, she quietly stared out over the water, lost in her thoughts.

“Tell me, Lauren Hart, from Hart Valley, is the name a coincidence, or did your ancestors start this town?”

Lauren stiffened. “It’s time to go.” She stood.

“What?”

She stuffed everything haphazardly into the backpack and stomped off down the trail.

“Wait… Lauren… What did I say?” I grabbed the blanket we’d been sitting on and rushed to catch up. What the hell happened?

“Nothing. Let’s go. I have things to do and need to get back,” Lauren said without stopping.

Eight

Lauren

That was not my finest moment in life. But Camden was just another man who was only interested in the Hart name. This one I should have seen coming, but he’d almost had me fooled. In reality, he was shallow, arrogant, and everything I despised. I loved my family and was proud of my heritage. If only it didn’t come with all the baggage.

So, I did what I always did when upset: cleaned my house. Well, in this case, not an entire house but my studio apartment. And I use the term apartment lightly. Not that I had a lot of things. Stephen had taken most of our property in the divorce, and I was too tired to fight. Material stuff I could eventually replace if needed, but not my pride. And this little attic apartment over my bakery was mine.

The night air hung hot and muggy and hit me in the face when I opened the window to spray the glass with cleaner. Below, in the back of the rear parking lot, sat the shadow of a compact sedan. It might have been gray, but it was difficult to tell in the dark. That hadn’t been there earlier when I locked up. Was someone inside? I wiped the cleaner off the glass and closed the window.

Did Camden pull back there to wait on me? He tried for a while to get me to explain, but I’m not stupid. The only reason he’d asked me out was that I’m a Hart. But that name meant nothing in this town anymore. My family’s history had ruined the name. And that fact had ruined my marriage. I wracked my brain to recall what Camden drove. I had no clue. But I was guessing it was fancier than the little sedan outside. I slid on my shoes and descended the back staircase.

I approached the car with Alabama plates armed with a can of pepper spray. A woman lay curled on the backseat that was barely big enough for her to fit. I tapped on the car window, and the occupant let out a shriek and jumped to sitting, causing a shot of adrenaline to course through me. Her pillow was white and lacy, resembling... a wedding dress?

“Oh my god. You scared the bejesus outta me.”

“Why are you sleeping in my parking lot?” I fished the cell phone from my pocket and switched on the flashlight. Her red hair glowed. “Are you drunk or on drugs?”

“Neither,” she cried, wringing the crumpled white fabric in her clutched fists. “I’m so sorry, please, don’t worry. I was just looking for a place to sleep tonight, but I’ll leave.”

“Are you in trouble?” A weight sat on my chest, suffocating me.

Her mouth hung open, and she had dark circles under her light blue-green eyes, and on her pale skin, they looked exaggerated. She was younger than me but still an adult. “Uh…”

That would be a yes. My heart sank. Was she running from an abusive man? There was a wedding dress. So maybe someone had left her at the altar?

“Tell you what. This is my bakery,” I said, motioning to the building. “You can come in and stay with me tonight and get some sleep. And tomorrow I can help you find a place to stay, or you can go on your way. Whatever you want.”

She looked out the back window at the house for a long moment before opening the door, “You live here?”

“Attic apartment.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s too warm to sleep in the car comfortably.”

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