Page 9 of Make Me Trust Again (Bluebonnet Creek #3)

CHAPTER SIX

CHASE

“What’s with that scowl?”

I narrow my eyes at Dr. Quinn, who’s watching me from his chair, not in the least bit bothered by my dark mood. “I’m not scowling.”

He has the audacity to chuckle. “It damn sure looks like scowling from where I’m sitting.”

There is no bullshitting the old man, that’s for damn sure.

Dr. Quinn used to be a Marine back in the day.

He enrolled so he could pay for his med school, only to get injured during his third deployment.

Now he is working as a psychiatrist, specializing in PTSD, and helping vets adjust to life after the military.

He was recommended to me as the best one in the state after I was discharged from the hospital, and we’ve been seeing each other every once in a while since then.

“Are we here to talk about my scowling?” I grind out through clenched teeth. “I didn’t realize you’ve changed professions, Quinn.”

“Would sure be more profitable if I did. And I wouldn’t need to be dealing with grumpy assholes like you, but here we are.” His dark eyes take me in. “How are you doing?”

I let out a grunt in response as I make my way to the window. Today, I am too keyed up to just sit down and talk about my feelings.

The hurt reflected in those blue eyes flashes in my mind, making my fingers curl into a fist.

I don’t know why I can’t erase her image from my mind. It’s been stuck in my head ever since I turned my back on her and walked away.

Maybe because you’re acting like an asshole?

I grind my molars together at the annoying voice at the back of my head.

“Have the nightmares been back?”

Dr. Quinn’s question snaps me out of my thoughts. I press my lips together. “That would imply they went away.”

But there is no avoiding the demons of my past.

Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket, mocking me.

Or my present, for that matter.

“Fucking Becky,” I mutter under my breath, silencing the phone.

“You can take it if it’s important.”

“Hell to the no.” I shove my phone back into my pocket. “I’ve been trying to get her off my ass for the last couple of days, but she’s relentless.”

Dr. Quinn tilts his head slightly. “Sisters usually are.”

“Oh, trust me, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve dealt with Becky.

” Shadow’s body brushes against my leg, so I lower my hand and give her a scratch.

“She loves to put her nose where it doesn’t belong.

And her favorite project at the moment is me, apparently.

” My eyes narrow as something prickles my attention.

The way Becky was with Rose, trying to make her feel welcome, help her find a place to stay…

Maybe it’s not me, after all. “Maybe it’s her . ”

“Her?”

Blinking, I turn my focus on Dr. Quinn, who’s observing me from his chair, making me realize I voiced my thoughts.

“She wants one of her friends to move in with me.” Just saying it out loud made the muscle in my jaw tic. “Well, not with me, but into my cottage.”

“Okay.” Dr. Quinn taps his pen against his notebook. “So what’s the problem?”

I squint at him. “What do you mean, ‘what’s the problem?’”

Dr. Quinn lifts his brow. “Do you need the cottage?”

“It doesn’t matter if I need it or not.” I’m clenching my fist so hard, I can feel the bite of my nails against my skin. “I don’t want anybody on my property. Certainly not her and her kid, and I told her as much. I like my peace.”

“That makes sense.” Dr. Quinn nods, and something about his easy acceptance annoys me even more. “I’m sure she’ll find something else.”

I remember the stupid cottage. The gutter that fell.

Not my problem.

“She’s looking at another property.”

“See? Problem solved.”

“Exactly.” I nod, but that unsettling feeling still brews inside my stomach. “I’m not her savior.”

I’m nobody’s savior.

“I didn’t change my mind,” I deadpan a little while later, not trying to hide my exasperation.

I have just wrapped up my session with Dr. Quinn and was leaving his office when she called me.

Again. I know I can try to continue to evade her, but that would mean risking her coming over, which I want to avoid at all costs.

The last thing I need is my sister dropping by our childhood home and bugging me until I give in. And trust me, that isn’t beneath her.

“I didn’t think otherwise,” Becky sasses back, snapping me out of my thoughts. “But that’s not why I’m calling, so can you stop being an asshat for one moment and listen to me?”

Her words are accompanied by soft babbling coming from the other side of the line, signaling that she’s with her son.

My baby sister is a mom . I’m not sure when or how that happened.

It was like one moment she was this scrawny kid, too nosy for her own good, and now she’s a grown woman with a family of her own. Not that she’s any less nosy.

“Fine.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “What do you need?”

There is a short pause that has the hair at my nape rising.

“Are you okay?”

Dammit.

“Fine.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “You don’t sound fine.”

Fucking nosy little sisters.

“I would be better if you would finally get to the point. I don’t have a whole day.”

For one long heartbeat, there is only silence.

My fingers grip the phone tighter, expecting her to probe further, but she doesn’t.

“There has been a leak in the kitchen at Reading Nook. Can you go and check it out?”

Her request has me rolling my eyes. Of course, something in the Reading Nook casually needs fixing, and she needs me to go and check it out.

“Can’t Miguel do it? It’s the off-season, and I’m kind of busy.”

This isn’t the first time she’s trying to get me out and into town because she needs my “help” with something . She left her phone at the house, or she needs me to pick up something from the store because she forgot to grab it, or there is one thing or another that needs fixing.

“Miguel is out at the ranch helping Aaron with something, so no, he can’t help.”

Of-fucking-course.

Because that’s just my luck.

“This better not be one of your little games,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“I’m not playing games. There is a freaking bucket under my sink that has to be emptied every so often, and my kitchen is full of different pots scattered around any and all available surfaces.”

I sigh, giving in. “I’ll go and check it out.”

“ Thank you ,” she says sweetly, just when there is a loud wail coming from the background. “ Shit, I have to go. But, by the way? You should definitely think about Rose moving in. We both know that you don’t need the cottage; you’re just being a grumpy asshole.”

With that, she hangs up.

Groaning, I let my hand drop.

I should have known she wouldn’t give up just like that.

Becky was pissed after I told her no and walked away the other day, leaving her and Rose on the porch.

But what did she expect? I stayed away from everybody for a reason.

And allowing Rose Hathaway and her son to move into the cottage on the ranch goes against every cell in my body.

Then why can’t you stop thinking about her, Williams?

Shadow’s ears perk up, her dark gaze meeting mine, and I swear she’s giving me a matching accusing look.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

The dog lets out an unamused huff. Why are all the females in my life such hotheads?

Go figure.

I pull open the door. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get on the road.”

The curious looks start the moment I step out of my truck in front of the Reading Nook. Mrs. Timothy is standing in front of her flower shop across the street, talking to two older ladies, their wide eyes following my every move.

I give a curt nod in their direction, which earns me a wave back, but before they can say anything, I turn my back and go toward the café, Shadow matching my stride.

Becky has always been a bookworm and talked about owning her own bookstore, and one thing about my sister is that she’ll do whatever she sets her mind to.

So I wasn’t surprised when she informed me in one of her letters a few years back that she bought this open space and remodeled the whole thing to make it into a bookworm’s dream—her words, not mine.

The bell chimes as I push the door open and step inside.

My back stiffens as a few people glance toward me.

Their reactions vary, from surprise to curiosity to revulsion.

Dismissing them, I shift my attention to the counter, only to come to a stop when I see the familiar blue eyes staring at me from across the counter.

Rose’s smile falls when she spots me. Her hair is lifted in a ponytail, a few dark brown strands curling around her face and her nape.

Her cheeks are slightly pink, and there is a little smudge on her face as if she just wiped absentmindedly over her cheek in a hurry.

And then there is a black shirt with a Reading Nook logo on it.

Fucking hell.

I was set up.

I should have known it isn’t just about that damn leak.

Rose’s lips press into a tight line. She is clearly as happy to see me as I’m to be here.

Good.

From the corner of my eye, I can see a shadow move. My body freezes as a wooden cane hits against the hardwood just a few inches away from my boot.

Glancing up, I see a short, silver-haired woman watching me with sharp eyes. “Look who decided to join us, regular folk, Milly,” Mrs. Miller tsks.

“I don’t know, Trish”—the other woman squints over the rim of her glasses—“I think I might be imagining things.”

“Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Tyson.” I nod stiffly in greeting, cursing my luck.

Then again, I’m not sure why I’m surprised. I should have used the back entrance and avoided becoming a spectacle, but I once did that and scared little Jessica Richards to death.

“And he speaks!” Mrs. Tyson places her hand against her chest dramatically. “I thought he was only communicating in grunts and scowls.”