“Boy?” My gaze flew toward the front door, despite not being able to see through it. “What boy on the front step?”
Harold points a finger toward the door. “That Connelly boy’s been perched on that stoop since closing time. I was just coming out to see what he wanted when I realized you were still here.”
“And what makes you think it’s got anything to do with me?” I ask, my eyes narrowed.
My boss gives me a knowing smirk. “Megan, this is a very small town. People talk, you know.” He points towards the door again. “Now, go talk to him, will you?”
Aunt Nancy. God knows who she’s been talking to while trying to fix this. I should’ve known better than to confide in her about Craig’s angry outburst, but I’d needed some solace and sympathy, and she’d certainly given me that. Maybe it wasn’t my aunt at all. It’s all just as plausible that the neighbors heard us in the driveway, if their windows or screen doors had been open.
“I’ll fix this,” I advise my boss.
“Good,” he says. “Lock the door on your way out? I’ve got some family coming to stay at our place tonight, and I can’t be late or Elaine will never let me hear the end of it.”
I chuckle, nodding. “No problem. Have a good night.” I’ve only met his wife once, but I don’t doubt that people would want to avoid her bad side. The woman’s polite and all, but she’s definitely a firecracker, too.
I start packing my things up and shutting down my computer after he leaves. It takes no time at all for the mere knowledge of his presence on the other side of the door to urge me towards it, opening it.
Sure enough, Craig is huddled down on the first step, hands wrapped around his knees, hat pulled down low over his face to block out the setting sun on the horizon.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” I ask him, having to clear my throat when the words come out hoarse.
Craig turns at the sound of my voice, standing. “Shouldn’t you be off work by now?”
“I was getting some things done.”
“And I was waiting for you.”
“That solves that mystery, then.” I look past him and see a couple of ladies walking down the sidewalk. Their gazes are fixed on us, too interested and intrigued by us for my own liking. “If you want to talk, you’d better come inside. Especially if you want it to be just us that’s hearing it this time.”
Craig follows my gaze, then stands up and follows me silently into the office. “They weren’t trying to listen in on us,” he says, closing the door behind him.
“Well, everyone seems to know what’s going on around here whether it involves them or not, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“It’s a small town,” he argues, like that makes it all better. “What people don’t actually know, they make up.”
“Is that what you did?” I stand at my desk, pushing my hands flat down onto it. “Didn’t know the whole story, so you made up the rest?”
I’m shocked to see Craig’s cheeks redden, his throat moving visibly. He pulls his hat down off his head, clutching it tightly. “Megan, I made a mistake.”
“Before or after you assumed I used you for sex?” The question comes out of my mouth before I have time to stop it, followed by muttering, “Wonder what else has been assumed in this town about me and you.”
“Megan, if you don’t like this town, then why are you staying?” Craig sounds exasperated, but I snap my gaze up to his, wary.
“Who told you I was staying?”
“Nancy came to see me.”
I groan, pressing my hands into my eyes. “Of course she did. Son of a bitch, why—”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he says through gritted teeth. “Megan, why are you staying here? Why are you—”
“Because of you!” I exclaim, slamming my hands down hard on the desk. “Because, despite what you think, being with you meant more than some one-night stand. Because I like how I feel when I’m with you. Because I thought Aunt Nancy was right, that you’re a good man—”
My frustrated speech is cut short by Craig’s mouth crashing against mine. I gasp, but it’s stifled by the urgency with which his tongue enwraps mine, spelling out every ounce of apology and regret and pain neither of us can put into words. He tosses his hat onto my desk and wraps me in his arms, pulling me against him. I moan, not realizing how much I’d been craving his touch until the moment I felt it again.
“Craig,” I said, breathless, struggling to keep myself from kissing him again because it’s easier than talking this through.
“Megan,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against mine. “I am a good man. I just needed you to remind me of it.”