But if that was true for Chase, then it made sense to move to a new place in a remote location where no one knew him. A place to hide out to heal without anyone breathing down his neck.
A place to lick his wounds.
Like an injured and surly bear.
His repeated sharp demand of “Why are you here?” shook me from my thoughts.
“No one had seen you in town for the last month, so I decided to check on you. You might be new to the community but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a part of it now. You are, no matter if you want to be or not.” When his jaw shifted, I kept going but spoke a little faster before he chased me off his property. “I also brought you a few things as sort of a welcoming gift.”
“I don’t want gifts.”
The man was nothing if not consistent. “You might want these.”
When I moved even closer, I could pick up the metallic scent of the sweat beginning to dry on his skin, mixed with the aroma of the split wood and spring blossoms on the trees.
I widened my nostrils and tried not to be too obvious when I took a deep inhale, pulling that intoxicating mix again into my lungs. I also kept my hands busy—and more importantly to myself—by removing items from the plastic bag I’d been holding.
I handed him the book Dolly had finished reading. His book. “You wanted all copies. Dolly returned this a while ago but since you didn’t stop back in, I was holding it for you.”
He glanced at the book in my hand for a moment before lifting his gaze back to mine. Was he surprised I did what he asked… or ordered? Maybe.
He took it from me. “I’ll get you some money.”
“I don’t want it. Here. This is for you, too.” I held out the fifth book in my Dexter Peabody series. “Since you said you liked these, I figured I’d bring this up to you. You had to have read the other two by now.”
Again, I didn’t tell him that I was the author because I wanted him to keep reading my books. He might act like a dick but I still couldn’t fight the thrill of an accomplished author like C.J. Anson reading and enjoying books from a much smaller author like me.
Especially an author I had deep respect for. Or used to, anyway.
Even so, simply seeing my book in his hands when he took it from me, made me want to bounce all the way back down the mountain like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh.
When he lifted his face again after staring for an awkwardly long time at the two books he now held, his jaw softened a bit and his eyes lost some of the annoyance they’d been holding.
Holy shit, I made a dent. It might be a small dent but it was progress.
I pulled the flyer out of the bag next and held it out to him.
He stared at the single sheet of paper like it was a rattlesnake for far too long.
I shook it to encourage him to take it, but he still refused. “This is a list of what’s going on in the bookstore for the month. In case you’re interested.” I shrugged. “If not, you can use it for a fire starter.”
When he still didn’t reach for it, I slapped it against his chest, doing my best not to linger over his heated skin.
“It’s a good way to meet everyone,” I added.
When he finally reached for the flyer, whether to peel it from his still sweaty chest and throw it back at me, or because he was interested, he used his left hand since his right hand was already full of books. I held onto the flyer for a second and while I did, I tipped my head down to his ring and decided to take a risk with my next question. “Divorce?”
When I released the flyer, he scanned the list of live events I had planned for the bookstore in May.
While reading the flyer, he grumbled, “It’s none of your business.”
“You’re right. It’s not. I’m sorry for bothering you. I only came up here to give you those books, invite you to the bookstore’s activities and officially welcome you to Eagle’s Landing…”
“Then you did what you came to do. Now you can—”
I pushed on, talking over him before he totally shut me out. “Also to let you know that if you need anything, just ask. Everyone around here is more than willing to help when and where they can. It’s one of the benefits of living in a small town like ours. We’ve built a solid community and we all step in when needed. So, if you thought you’d be able to hide up here, you picked the wrong place for that. Especially after Mr. Coleman died up here alone. We don’t ever want that happening again.”