Page 18 of Reigniting Chase

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“Like I said, Dolly’s a huge fan.”

“Great, then if she figures it out on her own, I’m sure she’ll respect my privacy.”

“Just so you know, she’s the town’s gossip hub.”

“Great,” he muttered. “When she brings back the copy she bought the other day, put it aside.”

“Fine. How should I let you know I have it? Smoke signals? Carrier pigeon? Pony Express? Or do you want to leave your number?”

Any other customer would’ve chuckled at that. Not Chase Jones. Oh no. That would mean cracking a smile. Or being friendly. Or recognizing the fact that I had a great sense of humor.

“I’ll stop in the next time I’m in town.”

Of course. “I can’t wait!” I exclaimed with feigned excitement while bouncing on my toes.

With another grunt, Chase heaved the heavy box into his arms and steadied it against his chest. I could at least hold the door for him, but decided to remain behind the counter and watch him struggle with balancing the box and getting the door open.

If he wanted help, he could ask for it.

Oh yes. Two could play the let’s-be-a-dick game.

However, I think Chase was too much of a pro at it for me to ever win.

CHAPTER 4

Rett

I shouldn’t stoop to his level and actually felt a twinge of guilt doing so. However, I didn’t remember ever dealing with anyone so outright miserable.

Everyone seemed to like me. Just not Chase.

Why did I care?

I didn’t.

Bullshit, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be risking the axles on my damn truck as I dodged large craters and deep valleys while driving up Coleman Lane.

I was better than that. I don’t remember ever being goaded to the point it turned me into someone petty or rude. Chase deserved a medal because he was the first person to achieve it.

I really wanted to forget about him and continue on with my life before he so rudely interrupted it. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t.

I thought about him a lot. An actual disturbing amount.

Especially for someone acting as though he didn’t like me as a fellow human being.

Most likely it wasn’t an act. He could be the type of person who simply hated everyone, hated life in general and even himself.

Nobody was fixing that and I had no idea why I thought I could.

But again, here I was, driving directly up to the bear’s den to poke the grumpy occupant like the total dumbass I was.

Today I came bearing gifts to try to soften him up a little. To “officially” welcome him to the community.

That was my excuse, anyway.

I told myself no matter how rude he was, no matter how hard he tried to push me away or shut me out, I would be the better person. I would simply drop off what I was bringing him, smile and then… move on. If he wanted to remain a dick that would be on him, not me.

I was going to be the better person.

I was. I swear.

Even if I had to work damn hard at it.

I also told myself that I didn’t need him to be my friend. I didn’t need him to be anything. I didn’t even need him to be my favorite author anymore.

Suuuuuure.

It had been about three years since I’d driven up to the Coleman cabin. In fact, the last time I did, I had taken the state police with me to do a welfare check on Mr. Coleman. He had only moved permanently into the hunting cabin after his wife died a few years earlier.

Three years later he began coming into town less and less and eventually, the old man stopped coming completely. That wasn’t like him. When Chet and Dolly asked me to check on him, they suggested the police go along, just in case of what might be found.

I was glad they did. I stayed outside while the two state troopers made entry and it wasn’t long before they came back out, the rancid smell of a decomposing body clinging to their uniforms.

As soon as the cops called the coroner, I got into my truck and drove away. I went back to town to break the news to the mayor and his wife, who, in turn, spread the word to everyone else.

To die alone like that… Almost as if you’d been forgotten.

That had stuck with me. It also made my heart ache. And, of course, I was sorry I hadn’t checked on him sooner.

If Chase kept pushing people away like he was, I was afraid he might end up the same. Alone and forgotten.

I maneuvered my Chevy through the roughly cleared patch of ground at the top of the lane and parked it next to the Bronco.

“Stay in the truck,” I instructed Timber when I shifted the truck into Park and climbed out.

Timber answered me with a little woo woo sound of disappointment. That told me he’d listen to my command but he wouldn’t be happy about doing so.


Tags: Jeanne St. James Romance