Her mutinous heart sped up at the mention of Mateo’s name. “When did you talk to him?”
“Yesterday,” Natalie said. “He smelled like he’d bathed in a vat of whiskey and looked like he’d been hit by one of the Sweet Salvation Brewery delivery trucks.”
“Good.” That made her feel better. Misery loved company, even if it was the person who’d ripped out her still-beating heart and put it in a blender.
“You didn’t skip town because of Larry,” Miranda said.
As always, big sister cut through the bullshit and got right to the heart of it. “No.”
“Did something happen with Matteo?” Natalie asked. “We have plenty of eggs in the house and we’ll go with you to redecorate his house if you just come home.”
Picturing her sister in her signature pastel-colored sweater and with her hair up in a bun, lobbing eggs at Mateo’s house, made her lips curl upward for the first time in days. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think egging the police chief’s house is the best plan—even for a Sweet.”
“Come home anyway,” Miranda said. “We need you back here where you belong.”
It’s all she’d ever wanted—to belong. She’d grown up in a town where no one ever wanted her and she’d fought back with crazy Sweet attitude. She’d gone into modeling even though people said her curves made her an oddball out, but she’d proved them wrong, landing magazine cover after magazine cover. She’d always had her sisters, but she was the wild child triplet who stuck out.
The only place she’d ever been where she hadn’t had to fight to belong was in Mateo’s arms. That should have been a huge warning sign that she shouldn’t be there. As a Sweet, she knew she had to fight for everything. Anything that came too easy, felt too perfect, was bound to be bad. He’d pushed her away at the hotel. He’d ignored her messages while he was in the VA hospital. He’d told her point blank on his porch to get out of his life.
How many more times did he have to break her heart before she learned that the belonging she felt in his arms was an illusion?
Not another single one.
A hard anger chipped away at the numbness that had settled over her, bringing with it hurt and embarrassment and bitterness.
“I messed up.” Again. What was new about her impulsiveness leading to trouble? “When you said you were pregnant, Miranda, I realized the next generation of Sweets couldn’t grow up in a town that hated them. But if we could have successfully hosted a fundraiser for the veterans’ center, that would have shown the town that the Sweets could bring something good to Salvation. That’s why I was so determined to make it a success.”
“None of that sounds like a mistake. It sounds amazing,” Miranda said.
“It was. Right up until the point when I sold you all out for Mateo.” What an idiot she’d been, believing in him—in them. “After Mateo got arrested for beating up Larry, the mayor told me he’d make sure the charges didn’t stick and that Mateo wouldn’t lose his badge. All I had to do was drop my plans for the fundraiser. I didn’t know that The Kitchen Sink had surveillance cameras that had captured the whole thing and shown that Larry took the first swing. I thought giving up that chance to bridge the divide between Salvation and the Sweets was the only way to save Mateo.”
Family. It’s all she’d ever really had and she’d sold it out for a dream that wasn’t ever going to be a reality. The realization ripped through her like claws through butter.
“Like an idiot, I loved him. I sold out my family for a man who had never loved me and never would.”
“You didn’t sell us out,” Miranda sniffled. “You made the right choice, and one all of us support.”
“Fuck him,” Natalie said. “Fuck them both.”
The shock of Natalie’s words slapped Olivia out of her personal pity party. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” Natalie said, her words flowing with NASCAR speed. “Your idea for the fundraiser is a great one. We’re not going to let Tyrell Hawson blackmail us into not doing it. If he wants to shut down one of us Sweets, he’ll have to shut down all of us, and good luck to him if the fool tries that.” She sucked in a quick breath. “As for Mateo, if he can’t see what an amazing woman you are, then he is the dumbest asshole on the face of the earth and we don’t have time for that kind of foolishness. It’s just not efficient.”
The sound of Natalie flipping through papers on her ever-present clipboard came over the phone line. “Okay, the fundraiser is scheduled for Saturday, so we have two days to finalize all the details and get everything in place. You’ve already put together a plan of attack, I’m a whiz at organizing everything to get it in place, and I feel sorry for anyone who gets in Miranda’s way when she’s negotiating with the other breweries so they get their kegs here on time for the competitive beer tasting.” She smacked the clipboard down on something hard. “Everyone in Salvation is about to learn that when you take on one of the Sweets, you take on us all. Hurry up and get your ass in the car and come home, Olivia, we have a fundraiser to put on.”
The phone went dead. All she could do was stare at it as she tried to process what in the hell had just happened.
“Mrow,” the cat called from her perch on the
windowsill.
“Exactly.” She got up and tossed the bland pecan pie into the trashcan, a lightness to her steps that hadn’t been there for days.
Her heart was battered, her self-confidence shaken and she had no idea if they could pull off the fundraiser, but it didn’t matter. She was going home to Salvation. It was where she belonged.
Chapter Thirteen
Shirtsleeves still damp from the dog splashing water on him during his bath this morning, Mateo walked into the Salvation County Courthouse. It was quiet on a Saturday morning, with most everyone off duty. The dog’s freshly trimmed nails click-clacked on the marble floor as they crossed the lobby to the mayor’s office.