Page 6 of It’s Only Love (Citrus Pines #1)

Christy stopped at Ruby’s Diner for a late breakfast but, more importantly, coffee.

After she ate, she felt slightly more human.

She felt better physically but was still thinking about her run-in with Dean and how she’d treated him.

When she went back to collect her car later, she would look for him to apologize.

In the future, she would behave like an adult and not let childish feelings from the past overtake her.

She was in her thirties now for God’s sake, she needed to stop acting like a teenager!

Christy was so deep in thought she didn’t notice the elderly couple approach her table.

“Christy, honey, is that you?” the man asked, his voice gravelly with age but thick with a deep southern drawl, like her father’s had been. A lump formed in her throat at the thought. She met his eyes, and vaguely recognized him.

“Yes, it is, Mr. uh...” She floundered for his name.

“It’s Bob, Bob Ingles? And my wife, June,” he rasped, and indicated the woman standing next to him. Christy’s memory kicked in. That was it. Bob owned half of The Rusty Bucket Inn and Taylor owned the other half.

“Of course! How wonderful to see you again,” she gushed, jumping up to embrace them both. June held on to her and cupped her face.

“My dear, you look just like your mother, you could be twins. I do miss my Janey,” she said sadly. She released Christy’s cheek and gripped her hand tightly. “We were so sorry to hear about your father, weren’t we, Bob?”

Bob nodded in sad agreement. “Oh, yes, very sad business. We hoped you would come home eventually. Though before he passed, not like this. He missed you so much.”

Christy frowned. He missed me?

“Anyway, dear, we’d best be on our way. We’ll see you for the funeral, but if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.” June gave her hand another tight squeeze, she had a strong grip for an old gal, and they left.

Christy was mulling over their words as she grabbed her purse, paid the check and left the diner.

Could he really have missed her? Was that possible?

Why didn’t he ever reach out if he did? Bob and June must have been mistaken.

As she stepped outside and onto the street she looked up and down, surveying the town.

She spotted another familiar face coming out of the laundromat and hurried over.

“Rebelle!” she called, waving her arm. The woman struggling with her bag of laundry turned, her eyes wide with alarm.

Her expression softened slightly when she saw Christy.

She slung her bag of clothes over her shoulder, swaying slightly from the weight.

As Christy took her in, she was surprised to see how little Rebelle had changed since school.

She had the same short brown hair that fluttered about her delicate, pixie face, the same warm brown doe eyes.

She was still delicate and petite but looked a little too thin.

“Hey, Christy,” Rebelle said, sounding slightly nervous.

“How are you? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

She had always liked Rebelle, they had been friends as teenagers.

Their bond had stemmed from tragedy as both their mothers had passed away around the same time.

At school, they were subjected to pitying looks from the teachers and other students.

One particular day Christy had escaped to the bathroom for a break from the constant outpouring of sympathy which she found smothering and she found Rebelle already hiding in there.

They had talked and felt a freedom that came from having someone understand what they were going through.

Rebelle had a twin sister, who was her only surviving family since Christy had heard her father passed away a few years ago.

Christy wasn’t sure what had happened to the sisters since school but heard from Taylor that Rebelle married a few years back.

“Yes, it has. What’s brought you back home?” Rebelle asked, avoiding Christy’s question.

“My father passed away,” Christy replied, and Rebelle blanched.

“I’m so sorry. How are you coping?”

“A bit hit and miss. We had such a complicated relationship so it feels kind of strange, like I’m not sure how I should be feeling.” Rebelle was one of the very few people who knew all about Christy’s relationship with her father and one of the few who would understand the emotions.

“I would love to catch up with you and talk. I could come around sometime?” Christy asked, eager to spend time with her old friend. Rebelle looked at her, slightly wary. Christy realized she put Rebelle on the spot, they hadn’t spoken for over fifteen years and she had just invited herself around.

“Or, I’m going to be at The Bucket tonight if you want to join me for a drink?” She tried again.

Rebelle was silent for a moment. “Yeah, okay, I’ll see you later then,” she replied with a small smile and turned to leave.

“It really is great to see you,” Christy called after her.

Rebelle turned back and nodded. “You too, Christy.” Then she was gone.

Christy felt a bit weird after their encounter.

Maybe too much water had passed under the bridge and Rebelle wasn’t interested in catching up?

Maybe she was just shy? Either way, Christy would find out later tonight.

She turned and headed off to the general store to pick up a few things and then went back to the garage feeling a sense of trepidation about seeing Dean again.

Underneath the trepidation was a sliver of excitement that she tried to ignore.

When she arrived, she saw her car parked in the lot at the front of the garage.

She walked past it, headed inside and found Bear under the hood of another vehicle.

She glanced back to the office where Dean had previously been, but it was empty.

She moved her gaze around the rest of the garage, trying to be subtle yet failing miserably.

“He’s not here,” Bear gruffed out, now facing her.

“Oh, uh, I was looking for you,” she lied, smiling at him sweetly.

He stared at her for a moment, then wandered over to the office and went inside. He came back out a minute later and held out her keys. “She’s all ready to go.”

She took the keys from his giant paw. “Amazing, thank you so much for fixing her and giving her a service.”

Bear shrugged, “The boss ended up doing the work.”

Dean worked on it himself? How…sweet. “How much do I owe?” she asked, rummaging in her purse.

“No charge.” Bear disappeared back under the hood, his husky voice echoing slightly.

“No, really, how much?”

“Boss said there’s no charge, just let us know if you have any more trouble.

” He popped out from under the hood again and grabbed some more tools.

He gave her what she imagined he thought was a smile but it looked a bit like a grimace.

She thanked him and headed over to her car.

When she got inside, she locked the doors immediately, thinking of Dean’s comment earlier.

She noticed her seat was still in the same position.

Dean must have put it back after he moved it into the lot, no way would his long legs fit in this tiny gap.

That was thoughtful , she sighed, feeling worse about earlier.

The scent of pine needles and sandalwood enveloped her.

Dean’s scent. She remembered it well. She closed her eyes, breathing it in.

He smelled like the forest, wild and earthy.

It was intoxicating, making her sigh as she imagined burying her face in his neck and breathing in deep, running her mouth along his skin, tasting.

Deep in her daydream, she accidentally leaned on the steering wheel, beeping her horn, startling herself out of the fantasy.

When she looked up, Bear was watching her with a quizzical look on his face.

Her cheeks flushed, she waved at him then started the car, and drove off wondering where the hell that fantasy came from .

The closer to home she got, the bigger the pit in her stomach became.

She wasn’t used to being back in that house yet and certainly didn’t like being there alone.

Each room held memories. Some sad, some happy, but all of them painful.

She tried to spend as little time as possible there.

Maybe she needed a distraction while she was in town, something to give her focus and keep her busy, so she didn’t have to worry about spending time alone here.

In the meantime, she would get ready, head back out, and see if Justine wanted to hang out before her gig later.

Christy could help her get ready and then go to the bar together.

She pulled up outside her dad’s weathered, two-story farmhouse and switched off the engine.

As she got out of her vehicle and walked up the stone path, she took in the house.

The wraparound porch was peeling white paint but was pretty sturdy.

The hedges and bushes in the front yard badly needed pruning, the weeds needed to be pulled up, and grass cut.

The list of jobs was growing by the minute.

Christy let herself into the house, the front door opening straight into the living room.

Old, faded floral wallpaper decorated the walls, starting to peel from some corners, and there were a few pieces curled up on the hardwood floor.

The gray couch and matching armchair were worn but still in pretty good condition, as was the glass coffee table.

There was a wooden bookcase in one corner that held paperbacks and ornaments, and an aging plant stood in the other corner.

A cream archway led to the hall where the stairs to the second floor and entrance to the kitchen were.

Christy didn’t linger, she went straight upstairs to the shower.

After her shower, she went into the spare room where she was staying to dry her hair, trying to tame her short, insistent curls but they weren’t having any of it. She rummaged in her two suitcases for something to wear and selected a hot pink sleeveless sundress and white sandals.

While she was applying her makeup, her thoughts drifted back to Dean.

She wondered what he thought of her now.

Did he know much about her life from Taylor?

Did he know what Douchebag Alfie had done to her, what he had taken from her?

How many girlfriends had Dean had? Whoa, where did that one come from?

His love life wasn’t her business, she didn’t even care anyway.

She wondered if he would be at Justine’s gig tonight.

She hoped he would be, but only so she could thank him for his kindness with her car.

Her phone rang, distracting her from her thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hi Christy, it’s Cassie from Blossom Estates, how are you?” Cassie’s soft voice came through the phone.

“Good thanks, and you?”

“Yes, good thank you. I just wanted to let you know the potential buyer we showed around earlier was quite interested in the property, so fingers crossed we’ll have some good news for you very soon.”

“That’s fantastic, thank you!” Christy said.

Cassie promised to call her as soon as she heard anything and they hung up.

Christy felt a little better. Hopefully, this buyer would want to take the property as soon as possible.

Although it needed some work to freshen it up, Christy just wanted this all finished so she could hurry up and leave town again.

She applied Pink Dynamite , loving how perfectly the color matched her sundress.

She tried to smooth her hair down again but gave up.

She grabbed her purse and keys and left the house.