Page 102 of Birthright

“What?”

“I have to be honest with you, hunny,” she says. “I’m under a lot of pressure here.”

“Pressure?”

“The ladies at the salon want to know if it’s serious, you see. I told you about Sally, didn’t I? You should let her do your nails, dear. Anyway, they figured out that you are my neighbor—I didn’t tell them, I swear—and they want all the dirt. So, you give me some dirt I can share so I can get them off my back!”

“Dirt?”

“Oh, nothing too personal, of course! Just whatever you’d like to tell.”

“Um…” I have no idea what to say, and I tell her this.

“Tell me all about the house! That should appease them.”

I give her a brief description, focusing mainly on the antique furniture. This seems to satisfy her a bit.

“Now, between just the two of us, is it serious?”

“I…” I remember the feeling of his hands on my bare skin, his rhythmic movements, and the sound he made when he…

“Ha! I can see it is!”

I look away, clearly red as a rose.

“So, any plans for the future?”

“The future?”

>

“Well, I can see you aren’t wearing a ring,” Jessie says, “and if he’d given you one, it would be major news around here. Do you think he will?”

“I…I have no idea, Jessie. I mean, we’ve only been dating for a few weeks. It would be a little soon to be thinking that far ahead.”

“Yes, well, different times.” Jessie shrugs. “I know I’m only in my fifties, but I do think it was easier back then. My mama was married at sixteen, and she’d only known my daddy a month or two before they were married. I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t a shotgun wedding or anything like that. My oldest brother wasn’t born until more than a year later…”

As Jessie starts in on another monologue, my stomach rolls over as I try to process the information I’m only starting to put together. All the quiet phone calls, all the whispers, all the time Nate gave someone a harsh stare in my presence, immediately silencing them with a glance.

Jessie said I wasn’t blind, but I clearly have been.

“Does he like it?”

I blink a couple of times, trying to focus as I realize she’s asked me a question.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Does Nate like the quilt I made for you?”

“Yes, actually. He does.”

“I knew it!” Jessie laughs so hard she snorts, then laughs some more about that. A moment later, she jumps up and says she’d better go before she has an accident, and I’m left alone again.

I get up slowly and pour myself a glass of water. I stare out the window as my mind continues to race. Is the whole east side, west side conflict all about a mob war of some kind? Is that really a thing? I thought organized crime was purely a big city issue, and the thought never occurred to me that such things could exist in a small town like Cascade Falls. And if my hunch is right, it’s not just one organization but two.

How many romance books have I read involving the mafia? I’d never considered those stories to be anything but pure fiction, and now I feel like I’ve been plopped right into the middle of one. The fair damsel, clueless as to her lover’s nighttime activities…

What about the vampire novels?