Page 69 of Bad Decisions & Back Roads

Lifted it an inch?—

Set it back down.

“Nope.Pension’s too good.”

A laugh burst out of me—sharp, helpless, and wild with relief.Every man there turned toward me.

Timothy’s entire face softened.

Josh looked startled, then pleased.

Dante grinned.“Got Doc Gia laughing.I’d call that crisis management achieved.”Then he pointed at Justin’s retreating back.“Good thing you called me, Josh.Now, I may just be a hick sheriff, but I wouldn’t recommend hiring him on here.I think it will land yourbastardbrother in prison.”

Josh chuckled and shook his head.“I wouldn’t do it for my brother.He’ll land his own ass in jail over Gia if that guy pushes him.I wouldn’t hire him because of Gia.”He gave me a hard stare.“We can’t lose you.I’m serious.”His gaze darted to Timothy for an instant.Then back to me.“The clients love you.You’re damned good at this.We need you here.”

“Josh, can you push off whatever calls she’s got for about two hours?I’m going to take her to lunch.”Timothy took my hand and led me toward his car.

ChapterTwenty-Four

GIA

If I hadn’t beennumb with shock, I’d probably never have climbed into Timothy’s black truck and let him drive me away.Too much had happened.Too much in too few hours.My mind felt packed with glass.One wrong thought and everything inside me might splinter.

Timothy eased out of the crowded parking lot with one hand on the wheel, phone pressed to his ear.“Hey, Angie, I need the lunch special for two—pickup.”He paused, listening.“Perfect.Ten minutes.Thanks.”

The normalcy of a casual call for food in the middle of my world detonating hit somewhere tender in my chest.He was taking care of things, quietly, like it was the most natural thing in the world to gather up my broken pieces and carry what he could.

“I’m not really up for going somewhere and sitting down,” I admitted, picking at a thumbnail until it stung.

“I figured.”His voice softened.“That’s why I got it to go.There’s someplace quiet I want to take you.”

Not a demand.Not pressure.Just a place he wanted to share.A place for me.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Silence settled between us, thick with everything unsaid.My stomach knotted harder with it.I stared out the windshield.“I’m sorry about last week.About the way I left.”

His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel as he stopped at a red light.He turned, his gaze was steady, warm, and carrying regret that made my chest ache.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said.“I pushed too fast.”

A weak laugh slipped out of me, brittle around the edges.“Pretty sure nothing in that bedroom qualified as fast.Quite the opposite.”

His mouth tipped into a grin.“No, not that.”He shook his head.“That part went pretty well.”

Despite everything pressing on my ribs, I smiled.Then the smile faded just as quickly, drowned beneath shame, grief, and that awful hollow feeling Justin always seemed to leave behind.My voice came out thin.“I’m sorry about Justin.”

Timothy immediately reached across the console and wrapped his hand around mine.“We don’t need to give him space in this truck right now.Every one of us is on your side.”

My throat tightened.No one had ever said“us”to me like that before.Like there was a line in the sand, and people would stand shoulder to shoulder with me.

A crooked smile tugged at Timothy’s mouth.“I think Dante might be the scariest of the lot of us.He’s a good sheriff.It’s why people voted for him.”

A startled laugh broke out of me.

He pulled up to the old gas station diner that had been a hangout, gossip mill, and unofficial town hall for generations.He picked up our food from the tiny drive-through window.

Twenty minutes later, deep in Hurst land, he turned down a dirt path lined with pines and backed his truck into a spot by the lake.