Page 80 of The Lilac River

Dolores patted my shoulder. "You know where the library is if you need a little peace and quiet."

"Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind."

As she walked away, she paused and turned back, her eyes kind. "It really is good to see you back, sweetheart. Back where you belong."

The words warmed something deep in my chest. Maybe coming home hadn’t been such a terrible idea after all. Maybe, despite the whispers, there was still room for me here. A space I hadn’t completely lost.

With a smile, I pulled out my phone and checked my grocery list, but I’d barely taken three steps before someone grabbed my arm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing having dinner at the ranch?"

My heart dropped. Mayor Miller.

I yanked my arm free and took a step back. "What do you want, Mr. Miller?"

"Mayor Miller," he corrected, his face reddening. "Answer the damn question."

"Wilder invited me." I crossed my arms. "Not that it's any of your business."

He scoffed. "You’re damn right it’s my business. I warned you. Stay away from Nash."

"You threatened me," I corrected, my voice shaking slightly. "And maybe I’m tired of being scared."

His nostrils flared. "You think you'll survive without this town behind you? Without your job?"

"We'll manage," I said, though my stomach twisted at the thought.

He leaned closer, breath sharp with coffee and bitterness. "You think you can playhouse again with my son? You think I’ll just stand by while you destroy his life a second time?"

"I’m not the one destroying him," I whispered. "That was always your specialty."

His face darkened, something cruel flashing across it. "Do your job, and nothing more. And never, never, tell Nash the truth."

I lifted my chin. "You’re the only one trying to ruin him, not me."

Without another word, he turned and stalked away, leaving me trembling in the parking lot. It was only when he disappeared that I was able to get my legs to work, my breath coming shallow as I crossed toward the store.

The moment I walked in, it felt like every eye in the place swung toward me.

It was subtle. A tilt of a head. A low whisper behind a display of canned green beans. The way Mrs. Porter, who owned Crafty Corner, turned to smile at me a little too brightly, like she wanted to be caught not looking. I tugged my tote higher on my shoulder and pushed my way toward the produce aisle, trying to ignore the heavy heat creeping up my neck.

It was a small town. People talked. Of course they did.

Especially now that I was back. Especially after I’d broken the heart of the town’s golden boy. What the hell wouldthey think if they knew I’d kissed him? That we’d practically devoured each other in the back hall of Downtown Bar & Grill?

God.

Heat burned across my cheeks at the memory, his mouth, rough and desperate on mine, the way he'd gripped my hips like he was scared I'd disappear again. The anger that had come from something so hot. That line that had been crossed between love and hate.

I snagged a couple of apples off the shelf, fumbling them into a paper bag, pretending I didn’t see Mrs. Aitken whispering something to Mr. Ford across the potatoes.

“Shame, after all that drama years ago,” I heard, low and cutting.

“Broke that boy’s heart,” the other replied, voice a murmur. “Never got over it.”

“Lost himself in other women—hence that little girl of his.” The voice dropped but not enough that I couldn’t hear it. “Wonder if she ever explained why she just left. I heard it was another boy.”

My fingers tightened around the apple bag. I hadn't realized how heavy memories could be until they were suddenly tossed around like gossip at the grocery store.