Page 6

Chapter 6

Ruth

Surprisingly, I didn't spend the entire night reliving what happened with Tobias. After getting home, I mechanically went through my bedtime routine, crawled under the covers, and after mindlessly scrolling through a few TikTok videos, fell into a dreamless sleep. I didn't even use any of my toys.

Waking up, however, is an entirely different story.

Before my eyes even open, my mind replays the scene in vivid detail. Tobias pressing me against the wall, the heat of his mouth on mine, the confusing contradiction between his actions and words. I lay in bed for over an hour, analyzing every moment, every expression that crossed his face. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. The only thing I've figured out is that man's complicated.

I like him. More than I should. Maybe even more than I realized until he kissed me and then kissed me again. But he "can't" date me. Not "won't" or "doesn't want to," but can't, what does that even mean? Like some invisible force field stands between us?

When confusion of this magnitude hits, I have one go-to person. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I dial her number.

"It's eight-thirty on Saturday. Either you did something to someone or someone did something to you. I'm hoping it's the latter one. Which is it?" My aunt answers, her voice carrying that familiar mix of concern and sass.

"Well, hello to you too." I can't help but smile despite my emotional turmoil. "I need two things. Breakfast and to talk. What do you want to eat while we talk?"

"Uh-oh, the food while we talk, talk? That sounds serious. How about That One Place? I'll text you my order. Oh, let's meet at the shop, your Uncle's getting a cold."

"Perfect, see you soon."

After hanging up, I drag myself out of bed, letting Joey into the backyard while I try to make myself presentable. This is definitely a yoga pants and baggy shirt kind of day—no energy for anything else. My phone chimes with Auntie's order. I called it in and was told it'll be ready in twenty minutes. Just enough time to drive across town.

I pull my hair into a messy ponytail, brush my teeth, and head out to retrieve Joey. He's standing at the fence line, ferociously barking at the squirrel perched smugly on a power line. This is a daily occurrence.

"Come on, goofball. Leave him alone." I scoop him up, still growling over my shoulder at his nemesis. "Sometimes you win, sometimes the squirrel wins. That's how this game is played."

Joey and that particular squirrel have maintained a long-standing feud, one I inadvertently started. My misguided attempt at a bird feeder resulted in not a single winged visitor but one exceptionally plump squirrel who claimed my yard as his personal buffet. Joey took this as a personal affront. An invasion of his territory. They've been locked in psychological warfare ever since.

After picking up breakfast, I pull into a parking spot outside the flower shop, where Auntie is already waiting.

"Hi cutie!" she exclaims as we walk in.

"Me or him?" I ask, Joey wriggling with excitement at the sight of her.

"Both. That's my good boy. Yes, it is, yes, it is. I brought you some veggies." She heads toward the back room, Joey cradled in her arms like royalty.

"You didn't have to bring him veggies. I have coffee in the car. I'll be right back."

"I can do what I want," she scoffs, shooting me a look as she turns the corner. Her voice shifts back to baby addressing Joey. "That mom of yours doesn't think I need to bring you food. But I had some left from last night, and Uncle Bart said to bring it to you. Isn't that a nice uncle thinking of Joey?"

Shaking my head, I retrieve the coffees from the car. When I return, I find Auntie at the back table watching Joey happily munching vegetables from his bowl which she brought and propped up on a chair next to her.

"Yummy, my favorite caramel macchiato. I needed this today. Thank you." She takes a sip from the grande cup. "Ahh, the nectar of the gods. Okay, now what's up?"

My fork is halfway to my mouth, loaded with hash browns. I decide to finish the bite, buying myself a moment to organize my thoughts. Setting my fork down, I take a deep breath and recount everything that happened the night before. Her expression shifts from excited interest complete with wide eyes and a muttering how sexy his actions were. To irritation and annoyance as I reach the abrupt ending.

"Let me make sure I have this right. He wouldn't tell you why he can't date you? And has never told you or even hinted at the reason why?"

"No, he got a call, and had to go. He asked me to please go home," I explain, poking at my eggs.

"And he mentioned nothing the first time you two talked, right?"

"No, not that I remember. I mean, I had a lot to drink that night, so I just remember thinking he's as much of a gentleman as I had hoped he was."

"And you two kissed that first night too?"

"Yes, but nowhere near as passionate as this was."

"Huh," she takes a few bites of her eggs. "There must be something holding him back. I mean, clearly, he is interested, but for some reason, he can't fully commit to it."

"Do you think it's because I'm bigger?" The question comes out smaller than I intended, my deepest insecurity laid bare. "And he just couldn't bring himself to tell me the truth?"

"Aww, Ruth, no." She leans over, taking my hand in hers. "Didn't you say he was trying to assure you that wasn't the reason?" I nod. "There you have it. There must be another reason."

"But what if he just said that because he was face to face with me?" The doubt creeps in despite my best efforts to silence it.

"If that's the case, then your choice is simple. Let the bastard go." She sits back, crossing her arms with finality.

Her bluntness makes me laugh so hard I nearly choke on my toast.

"I don't think he is like that, though," she continues, thoughtfully. "Did you know your uncle sat on the community affairs board with Sheriff Trenton? He always speaks highly of him. Says he was a really nice guy, fair and level-headed." She sips her coffee. "Of course, the Sheriff never had him up against the wall kissing him. I mean not that I've heard about."

"Now there's an image I'm going to spend the rest of the day trying to get out of my head." I manage to giggle.

"Well, now what do you do?" she asks, setting down her cup.

"I don't know. That's why I'm talking to you, so you can tell me what you think I should do." I spread my hands helplessly.

"I would say launch a full-on assault. New lipstick, a new dress. That sort of thing. It's clear he likes you, so bring on the flirting." Her eyes gleam with mischief. "You've got assets, it's time to use them."

"That is what Mary said to do too. Only she added a new bra."

"Can't hurt. Having the girls perked up is a sure-fire way to get a man's attention. Like I always say, boobs make the world go round." Auntie puts a bite in her mouth, then halfway through chewing, her eyes widen dramatically and her hand flies to her mouth.

"What? Did you break a tooth?"

"No," she finishes chewing. "What if he can't date you because he's seeing someone?" She looks at me with a shocked expression.

My stomach drops. The possibility hadn't even occurred to me.

"If he is, it's news to me. He said he wasn't dating anyone when we were at the park."

"Maybe it's new, and he wants to see where that one goes."

Sudden anger flares, hot and bright. "If that is why, then he can go fuck right off. Seeing someone? THEN he comes over here and kisses me? I won't forgive that. That's not fair to her, and it certainly isn't fair to me."

"I one hundred percent agree with you. But, let's not condemn him just yet."

I take a calming breath. "You're right, if I'm honest, I don't see him doing that. He just doesn't seem like that kind of guy. I don't get that feeling from him."

"How long has his wife been gone? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Fifteen years."

"Can't be that, then, can it?" Auntie looks thoughtful. "I mean, it would be okay to date now. Certainly enough time has gone by."

"You would think." I push my food around the plate. "Do you think that is what it is? I don't want to compete with a dead wife."

"No, no one wants to do that," she shrugs. "How old is he?"

"Forty-six," the age gap question—the elephant in the room I've been trying to ignore. "I did some covert asking around."

"That's not a tremendous difference. Is it?" Auntie pulls out her phone. "Thirteen years isn't awful. To me, if he was sixty and you just thirty, then that would be quite a difference. But not that it can't be worked out if the couple tries."

"I'm thirty-three," I point out, slightly offended. "I don't think age matters. At least it doesn't to me."

The age difference has never bothered me. I've always been drawn to older men. It's their confidence, their stability, their lack of games. Tobias's silver-streaked hair and well-earned laugh lines are part of what makes him attractive.

"I think you should figure out a way to find out if he is dating someone," Auntie declares.

"And just how do I go about doing that?" I blurt out, frustrated.

"The direct approach is asking him." I make a face, and she continues. "Or ask someone who knows him. Either way, you have to find out before your next meet up."

"I don't know that we will have another meet up, it's not like things went well this last time." The memory of his abrupt shift from passion to professionalism still stings. "But I know who I'm going to ask. I'll see her on Monday."

Joey, finished with his vegetables, wanders over to rest his head on my foot. At least someone in my life is uncomplicated.

"You know what bothers me the most?" I say, watching Joey. "It's not even that he doesn't want to date me. It's the mystery. Not knowing why. If he'd just tell me—she's prettier, she's younger, I remind him of his third-grade teacher who gave him nightmares, those I could accept and deal with. It's the 'can't' that's driving me crazy."

"Men," Auntie says with a heavy sigh, as if that one word explains everything.

The bell above the shop door jingles, signaling the day's first customer. Joey perks up, always ready to play his role as the shop's unofficial greeter.

"Time to go to work," I say, gathering the breakfast remnants. But my mind is already plotting Monday's mission: find out what's really going on with Sheriff Tobias Trenton, even if I have to badger every deputy in the county to get answers.

About halfway through the nine to noon hours we have on Saturday, Evelyn Whitaker walked into the shop.

"Hi, Mrs. Whitaker, how are you?" I stepped around the counter giving her a hug.

"Ruth, it's so nice to see you. I was hoping you were working today."

"Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?"

"I'm having a family dinner tonight and I wanted to give my girls a bouquet of flowers. I thought maybe it would lift their spirits considering what's happened."

I can feel my eyebrows furrow, placing a hand on her forearm I asked. "What happened?"

"You haven't heard?" Mrs. Whitaker looks shocked. "I thought Melanie would have called."

"No, she hasn't." My anxiety shot up like someone ringing the bell at the carnival. "We talked before they left on their honeymoon but I didn't figure I would hear from her until they got back. What happened to Mel?"

Mrs. Whitaker looked around, leaning into me she whispered, "Are we alone?"

Side stepping around her I hurried to the door and locked it. "Yes, it's just us. What's going on?"

"Michael escaped."

The gasp that escaped my mouth was pure shock. "No."

"Yes, he killed two FBI agents and disappeared."

I had to sit down. "That monster is on the loose again?" Shaking my head I looked at the table. "That's why he—"

"That's why who?" Mrs. Whitaker was eyeing me. "Who is he?"

"Nothing, I ran into Tobias and he looked particularly stressed." Wanting to change the subject as quickly as I could. "Does Melanie know?"

"Tobias is exceedingly worried." She tells me. "As he should be, Michael is a vicious, horrible man." Mrs. Whitaker straightened her jacket. "Cameron and Melanie know. You won't be able to talk to her for a while. They, along with her mother and aunt, have gone into hiding. We all felt it was best."

Still shocked at what I'm hearing and my new understanding of what it was Tobias was trying to tell me but couldn't. The poor man he's facing a monster coming back into the town where he's the law. The one that has to stop him. I'd not had a chance to talk to Tobias about his feelings on how the Michael event went down. Or how he was handling the knowledge that Michael operated in the county Tobias was sworn to protect.

"Ruth?"

I snapped my head up looking at Mrs. Whitaker. "I'm sorry, this is a lot to process."

"It really is. Now, about the flowers, dear. I'm kind of under a time crunch."

"Sure, sure."

Ten minutes later I helped carry the vases to Mrs. Whitaker's car. With a final wish for her to tell Melanie, should she talk to her, that I'm thinking of them and praying for safety. I turned and went back into the shop. Glancing at the clock there was only an hour left.

"Let's close early," I called to Joey. "I want to fill Mary in on the new information."