Page 57

Her eyes snapped back to mine and she muttered something incoherent before bolting to the door. I was a little disappointed that she hadn’t stayed to play, but before she left my office her eyes flew back to me and narrowed in once again on my junk.
I might have been completely wrapped up in her, but shit, she felt the same fucking way I did.
Twenty-four hours later I found myself pretending to read the latest thriller as I secretly listened to every word that Sutton and Candice uttered as they chatted about everything under the sun. I felt a surge of pride at the way Sutton was coming into her own.
She wore her designer labels like she was born to it. But I had to admit that in designer or not, I had always found her irresistibly beautiful.
“Where are we staying at?” I heard Candice ask, and I couldn’t help the tilt to my lips.
I decided it was time to give up the pretense of reading. Before Sutton could respond, I spoke, “How do you feel about bed bugs?”
Candice eyed me in horror as Sutton rolled her eyes. “I would never send her to that no-tell-motel.”
I raised a brow. “You were more than willing to send me.”
She grinned at me. It was so sudden that I felt like someone had unleashed the sun. I actually felt the warmth radiating from her face. She was mesmerizing.
“Candice is my friend,” Sutton said saucily, implying that I was anything but. I chose not to pick up the challenge that she had thrown down.
Turning to Candice, I answered her question, “We will be staying at Sutton’s place.”
She blinked. “The trailer?”
For some reason, I took offense to the shocked undertones in her voice. “There is nothing wrong with Sutton’s home.”
Candice flushed. “Sir, you misunderstood me. I have no problems with staying in a trailer. It is only I didn’t think… that is to say… I’m sorry.”
And then it hit me, her surprise was that I was okay with the arrangements. Just what kind of an ass had I been portraying myself as? And the worst part was that she was completely right in her assessment.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sutton
It’s funny how different Otterville Falls appeared to me as we rolled into town.
True to form, Mark had rented a large black SUV that looked like it cost more than three of my trailers combined. I didn’t want to meet Candice’s gaze as we drove down Main Street.
It was still lined with brick buildings that have been there for at least a hundred years. Above the Five and Dime, you could just make out a retro Coca-Cola symbol that had been painted before I was born.
However, I had never noticed how crumbly and old things were looking. More than a few windows had been boarded up, and it appeared that the streetlight was out again. We only had the one, and often it was on the fritz.
I had a ball of shame churning in my gut that both surprised and saddened me.
As we passed Abberly’s, I saw Mark curl his lip in disdain. The feelings inside of me began to fester, but I smashed them down and pasted a smile on my face. I’ve had plenty of years training in how to appear as if nothing is wrong with me.
As we approached the sheriff’s office, I asked Mark to pull over. He had barely stopped when I wrenched the car door open and got out.
I could hear his mumbled cursing, most likely for me to wait for him. Obviously, I ignored it. I couldn’t stand to be in that vehicle for a moment longer.
The door opened just as I approached the building, and I saw Deputy Brown greeting me with a scowl on his face.
“Well,” he smirked derisively, “look what the cat dragged in.”
I ignored the old fool and pushed past him into the dated police building.
Linda, with her seven-inch beehive, was typing away on a computer that looked to be vintage 1985.
“Bless my soul, if it isn’t little Sutton!”