“No, Daddy.” I shake my head. “Thank you so much for the offer, but I know you’re strapped for cash.” My parents just opened two new Bob and Sue’s Smoke Shack locations last month, and finances will be tight until the new restaurants aren’t in the red.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mom says. “We’ll find the money.”
“No, you won’t. I won’t accept that kind of help from you, so just forget it,” I say firmly. “I just need to calm down and think things through.”
“And we’ll help you.” Lark puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, okay? There has to be a way to make this better. And we’ll figure it out.”
Aside from meeting Prince Charming, marrying him, and moving Felicity and I into his castle, I can’t see a swift resolution to all the issues I’ll need to address to level the playing field with my ex, but I know better than to think Prince Charming is a viable option.
I’m going to have to figure something else out. And fast.
But what?
“Let’s have some food for thought,” Lark says as Melody emerges from the house with Felicity in her arms. “And then head to the fair and try to get our minds off our troubles for a little while.”
“I don’t really feel like going to the fair anymore.” I take Felicity from my sister and hug her a little too tight, making her squirm to be put down to play in the grass.
“But it will be fun,” Lark insists, tossing Felicity the red ball she loves to chase around the yard like a puppy. “After how hard we’ve worked this summer, we all need to relax and have some fun.”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, though, before Liam dropped his bomb, I’d been desperate for a night out.
Melody, Lark, and I have been busting our butts to make Ever After Catering the most coveted wedding and special event caterer in the greater Atlanta area. We’ve been booked solid every weekend this summer—and a ton of weekdays, too—and are now booking weddings through the fall. Next month, Lark is going to increase our base fee by five hundred dollars per reservation and has promised both Melody and I a raise.
I’ll be able to afford my own place soon, but it might not be soon enough.
“And you know Nana will never forgive us if we don’t come see her watermelon while it’s wearing its blue ribbon,” Melody says as she retrieves the ribs from the grill and arranges them on a giant serving plate. “She’s prouder of that watermelon than her great-grandchild and all three of her toy poodles combined.”
I smile, but it feels brittle on my face. “I think Nana will understand why I’m not up to a fair trip.”
“I think you should go,” my mom says, surprising me. “Don’t let Liam spoil your night. I’ll watch Felicity like we planned, and you can go have fun with your sisters and Mason. You might be surprised what comes to you while you’re out and about. Sometimes the answers to our problems are just waiting for us to relax and let them in.”
I seriously doubt there are answers waiting for me at the county fair, but after another round of cajoling over dinner, I agreed to head out with Lark, Melody, and Mason.
Mom’s right. I shouldn’t let Liam ruin anything else for me. If I do, then he wins, and I’m not about to let that happen.
Not tonight or any other night.
Not without one hell of a fight.
Chapter Five
Nash
I haven’t been in a fistfight in ten years, not since Dick Nance came to work on a construction site drunk off his ass, ran over my foot with his pick-up truck, and then had the balls to tell me I should have moved out of the way before he plowed through our lunch break area in reverse.
Even with three broken toes, I’d had no trouble teaching him a lesson about taking responsibility for his actions. There had been two punches—Dick’s sloppy jab at my chin, and my roundhouse that sent him to the ground, where he had the sense to stay until the foreman showed up to fire his ass.
I’m six foot four and, as my grandma likes to say, built like a brick shithouse. I work out six days a week, starting my day with cardio from six to six-thirty, weights for another hour, and then a lightning fast shower before I cruise into work at the station at eight.
One of the perks of making Captain last year is being able to set my own hours. No more night shifts for me.
Now I’m free to go out in the evenings, to enjoy everything Bliss River has to offer, to get involved in the community…and to run into my ex-girlfriend so often I would swear Rachael was stalking me if she hadn’t made it clear she loathes seeing my face.
At the moment—standing in the fading light outside the entrance to the county fair—she looks like she’s sucked a lemon dry.
She’s doing her best to pretend she hasn’t noticed me three people behind her and her “new man” in line, but she knows I’m here. Every self-conscious tug at her tee shirt and toss of her hair betrays her. But even if I couldn’t read Rachael like a book—a poorly written one I should have put down way before I reached the shitty ending—Lee’s constant fondling of her ass leaves no doubt he’s aware he has an audience.
His favorite audience. Since I caught him in bed with Rachael—in my bed, which I have since sold, and which sheets I burned to ensure all the oily, used-car salesman germs were banished from my home—he’s reveled in every opportunity to rub my face in his “big win.”
As if dating a compulsive liar who sleeps around while her boyfriend is working a double shift is something to get excited about.
I want to tell the bastard I’m glad he helped show me her true colors, and that I wouldn’t take back a woman who’d cheated on me for a lifetime of free bacon—the applewood smoked kind that’s basically meat crack.
But I refuse to give him the satisfaction. I didn’t lose my shit when I found him balls deep in the woman I’d trusted to be faithful to me, and I won’t lash out now.
I will remain calm, cool, collected…
Or at least I’m going to try.
Because yeah, I am pissed. Pissed at Rachael for betraying me, pissed at Lee for enjoying being part of it so much, and pissed at myself for trusting someone I shouldn’t.
Again.
Seems I would have learned my lesson by now. I put criminals behind bars for a living, but when it comes to women—redheads in particular—my “danger radar” is clearly fucked all to hell.
I can’t believe I was seriously considering Rachael’s “put a ring on it” ultimatum. I should have my head examined.
Making a mental note to glance at the list of counselors on the staff website, I shift my gaze away from the repulsive couple and pray to make it through the line without having to exchange words with either one of them.
Unfortunately for me, God must be busy elsewhere.
Ten feet from the ticket window, Lee turns, affecting surprise as his gaze catches mine. “Hey there, Geary, how the hell are you?” he says with an oily grin, showcasing his tiny, Chiclet-shaped teeth as he ushers the people in between us ahead of him in the line.
Why on earth he would think I’d want to stand next to the two of them is beyond me, but I am cool. Calm.