Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
But his approach breaks the seal, and before our food arrives, people all over the diner are calling out their dates and encouraging me to make Roy apologize for whatever he did. Or telling me he doesn’t deserve a sweet girl like me. Or both.
“Never did like that boy. Too slick for his own good, like snail snot on a wet sidewalk after a good rain.”
“If he doesn’t chase you now, he never will, and the fun’s in the chase, you know? But wait till the twelfth, for an old man’s sake, will ya?”
“You deserve better.”
That’s the most common theme of everyone’s thoughts, surprising me every time because I’ve always felt like Roy was the one settling with me, not the other way around. And now more than ever, I’m a total clusterfuck of chaos inside, new confusing realizations dawning with every word spoken to me.
It’s uplifting, empowering, and stunning all at the same time. I don’t know what to say about it and am just starting to figure out an answer when there’s a sharp whistle that grabs everyone’s attention.
“Incoming,” Rosemary warns, and silence descends over the diner.
“Shit.”
Ben’s hissed curse catches my attention, and I turn to follow his line of sight, finding Sheriff Laurier walking toward the diner’s door. “Guessing that’s not a friend of yours, given the uniform,” he says under his breath.
Spinning back around, I duck down in my seat, shaking my head wildly. Damn it. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. We should’ve gone back to Ben’s and hidden out, not risked coming out in public. But I needed to know if Joy was right.
Now I know she is, but the knowledge is gonna cost me. Dearly.
Suddenly, someone throws a ballcap my way, and I yank it onto my head—like a mere hat is enough of a disguise to keep my almost-father-in-law from recognizing me.
“Hey, Sheriff!” Rosemary calls as he comes in. I’ve got my back to the door, but I can feel the hairs on my neck standing up as though he’s looking right at me. “Usual?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I swear time is frozen as I stare at Ben, who’s gone deadly still, though his eyes are watching the diner like a hawk. Does he know his hands are clenched into fists on the tabletop? Surely he wouldn’t fight the sheriff, because that’d be stupid as hell—but I don’t actually know Ben well enough to know if he’d do something that reckless, and he did say he was a hellion. I must make a sound, because he shoots me a look like he’s checking on me, and I can see the look on his face telling me to be still, be quiet, and wait.
I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I’m ready for it. Whatever it is. It’s actually a little exciting not to know, I realize.
“You see any Barlowes today?” the sheriff asks. That’s almost a relief. Somehow, this stupid baseball cap is working.
Rosemary hums loudly. “Nope, can’t say I have.”
She’s outright lying to the law for me, a move I wouldn’t have expected but greatly appreciate. In fact, it makes tears spring to my eyes, and Ben extends his clenched fist, like a calming hand. Steady, that hand says.
“Huh. No telling where that girl got to. Might have to call out the K-9 unit to search the woods if she doesn’t turn up.” A long pause later, he adds, “In a day or two.” Then he chuckles at his own joke. No one else does, though, especially not me.
How is a missing woman funny? I’m okay, but he doesn’t know that, and he’s supposed to be in charge of keeping the town safe. Serve and protect, and all that jazz.
I wonder what Roy would think of his dad joking about me being lost in the woods, possibly dead. I know Ben’s not impressed, because his jaw’s gone hard, and I swear I can see him imagining ten different ways to beat the shit out of Sheriff Laurier.
“Well, if anyone sees her, give me a shout. That boy of mine is fit to be tied over the whole situation,” he tells the restaurant.
“Will do,” Rosemary answers amid the clanging of her cooking on the grill top.
It sounds like the sheriff is chatting with folks as he wanders around the diner, and I worry he’s coming my way, but Ben doesn’t move. Until he suddenly stands, pulling me up as he does. “Let’s go,” he orders in a clipped voice, allowing for zero questions.
I let him move me, trusting Ben even if I’m not sure where the sheriff disappeared to. At the counter, Rosemary’s putting two Styrofoam boxes into a bag. “Here ya go, honey. He’ll be in the bathroom for ten minutes getting his gear off so he can take a shit. Same as always.”