She’d be done for. What that would entail, exactly, she wasn’t sure, but she knew it wouldn’t be good.
“Well, as you can see, everything here is fine. And as you can also see, I’m no longer the delinquent that I once was, so you don’t have to worry about hauling me in for shoplifting or destruction of property.” Her voice was unfamiliar even to her, harsh, filled with years of anger and hurt. Where had it come from? She’d felt both of those things when she’d been forced to leave town, certainly. But she’d moved on. Had carved out a decent—no, a good life for herself.
Then why did she feel like simultaneously crying and throwing something as she stood here in a room that held so many memories, facing the man who, in her childish innocence, had once been her everything?
“You can go.” She added when he simply straightened, looked at her with those damn eyes that had always seen too much. It was as if he knew, even after all this time—as if he could hear the unspoken words in her soul.
And how dare he seem so nonchalant, so unaffected by coming face to face with her when she, despite her best efforts, was torn to shreds inside? It was as if he’d come upon anyone, anyone at all that he’d once known.
It made her want to lash out, to kick and punch and scream just to get some kind of reaction out of him. But with the iron will that she’d been forced to forge after being unceremoniously dumped from her home, Ellie strove to match his impassiveness, nodding when he took a step back.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around then.” With an answering nod, he strode back across the room, the ugly carpet muffling his footsteps. Ellie bathed in the warm wave of relief at his retreating back, ignoring the baffling disappointment that infused it.
Gabe looked back over his shoulder as his feet hit the top step, and the sexy grin she remembered, tempered with restraint, made her knees shake.
“I hope some of that troublemaking delinquent is still in there, somewhere. Be a damn shame for all that fire to be snuffed out.”
And with that he was gone, leaving Ellie staring with a witty—she was sure it was witty—retort on the tip of her tongue. Damn it, she hated being the person who thought up the perfect comeback two hours after the fact.
But perfect or not, witty or not… he was gone.
Chapter Two
Rather than take the cruiser back out, touring the sleepy town on his nightly rounds, Gabe elected to continue on foot, hoping that the heat that never quite ended could cauterize some of the old wounds that had just had their scabs torn off.
He hadn’t spent the last ten years of his life obsessing over what might have been, but Ellie Kendrick had always indisputably been the one that got away. To his own surprise, he’d built a good life here in Florence, following in his father’s footsteps as sheriff, but he’d have been lying if he denied that he occasionally wondered what had happened to the girl who had once been his entire world.
He was stubborn enough, prideful enough, to have staunchly avoided looking her up on any of the social media sites that he’d joined only to drag the town’s police station into the present day. But he’d wondered.
The reality was far more vibrant than his imagination had ever been.
The girl he’d known had led a one woman mutiny against the small town, forging an intimidating appearance that had never, to his mind anyway, masked the fiery beauty that lay beneath. Now…
Now she had let her natural prettiness come through—the natural flame-bright gold of her hair accentuating the soft cream of skin he knew firsthand to be smooth beneath his fingers. Her eyes, that soft dove grey that darkened when she was mad or sad or filled with passion, were just as bright without the dark ring of paint.
And the jeans and tank that she’d been wearing showed that the once skinny girl had put on some weight… and as a man, both he and his cock appreciated it. In fact, even knowing who it was waiting for him up in Estelle Kendrick’s apartment, his first thought upon laying eyes on the woman he hadn’t seen for a decade was that the edgy, angry beauty he’d known had gotten hot.
But he was a man now, not the hormonal teen he’d once been. So he’d shoved his libido aside and did his best to hide how unsettled he was at coming face to face with the woman who still haunted him from time to time.
He’d known this face-off was coming, had known it since the moment he’d gotten news that Estelle had died, a heart attack likely brought about by the pack and a half of cigarettes she’d smoked daily for as long as Gabe could remember.
But he’d thought he was prepared for it. And when the funeral had come and gone, the small town turning out to honor one of its own—and there was no Ellie to be seen—he’d thought that maybe things had gotten so bad between Estelle and her granddaughter that they were completely estranged.
That would have surprised him, but he’d known it was a possibility. As Sheriff, he had had contact with Estelle, as he did with most other residents of the small Arizona town. The old woman might have been gruff, might have been fully aware of the past between him and Ellie. Still, she’d often thrown a nugget of information about Ellie into their conversations, as if throwing a stray dog a bone.
He’d always played it off, even to himself, but he knew now that he could recall every last bit of information that Estelle had thrown out over the years. The cities Ellie had moved to, the far-away places that she’d travelled. The floral design certificate that she’d gotten after her very practical degree in business.
Still… ten years was a long time. He’d been sure that those big eyes, the ones that could move from anger to heat with one sweep of those long dark lashes, would hold only memories, and no longer have any pull over him.
As he thought of the way she’d stood there in front of the window, the setting sunlight framing that delicious little body… of the way her unique combination of defiance and vulnerability took him right back through the years…
With a grimace, he changed direction, stepping off the sidewalk and onto the soft asphalt. He crossed the street and pushed through the steam misted glass door under the sign to Nina’s Diner. He needed a few minutes to regroup, for his world to stop spinning.
Nodding to Alice, the waitress who worked the late afternoon to evening shift, Gabe slid into a booth by the front window… one with a convenient view of the shop across the street. He ordered a coffee, wishing he wasn’t on duty so he could have added a stomach settling shot of whisky to it.
He wasn’t surprised, and in fact was perversely pleased, as he watched the front door of Estelle’s Blooms slam open, saw the clearly agitated woman step through.
It was gratifying to know that he wasn’t the only one who needed to do some head clearing. But when she looked across the street, those keen eyes narrowing in on him as he sat in the window, he felt something hot and indefinable tighten in his gut.
Ellie Kendrick had always been the most exciting thing in his life. Not even his straight-laced father had been able to condition that out of him.
“Down, boy.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the swaying of her hips as she stormed right into the street, then through the door of the diner. Her irritation was palpable, making the air between them crackle as she ignored the startled waitress and made her way right to his table, sliding into his booth with a polite sneer that he still, to his chagrin, found absurdly sexy.
Despite the overly sweet curve of her lips, Gabe was pretty sure that she was feeling every bit as confused and churned up as he was. And then he reminded himself that assuming she felt what he did was just plain stupid.
“Jaywalking in front of the Sheriff is just asking for a ticket,” he commented mildly as he tried to get himself under control. He had no idea what she was thinking or feeling—he didn’t know this woman at all, not anymore. They’d been strangers for a decade now, a separation hardened by the way in which they had parted.
Her lips sparked—that, at least, was familiar, and just as she always had, she covered her discomfort with bravado. “Bring out th
e handcuffs, then.”
Ellie’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she realized the innuendo behind what she’d just said. And Gabe… well, he felt a punch of heat straight to his gut.
Even if he’d never met her before, he would have walked into that flower shop and been mightily attracted to what he saw. But they had a past, so his hands were tied.
“Still can’t let someone else have the last word?” He knew he was being an ass, but it was the only defense that Gabe had against her. He smirked and settled back in his seat, the hard surface of the booth unyielding against his back.
Ellie’s eyes widened, a sure sign that he was about to get a tongue lashing. But to his surprise, she kept her mouth shut, folded her hands on the table.
“I…” Her lips parted, then closed again. Ellie Kendrick at a loss for words was a rare sight, and truth be told, it concerned him. She rose to leave, demonstrating a control that she certainly hadn’t had when he’d known her before. “I shouldn’t have followed you.”
She appeared to be the picture of composure, but he could see the slight quiver in her chin, knew she was holding back.
The waitress chose that moment to deliver his coffee. The cup rattled in the saucer as Alice—a woman who had gone to school with both him and Ellie—set the steaming drink down in front of him, not bothering to hide her curiosity about Ellie.
“Here you go, Gabe.” Alice turned her freckles and mile wide smile on him just momentarily before returning her attention to Ellie. “And can I get anything for you, hon? If you haven’t been here before, I can recommend the sweet potato pie. It’s real special.”
A not so subtle way of prying into who Ellie was, and why she was here. Alice wasn’t being rude—it was just the way life in Florence ran. They didn’t get many tourists, since there wasn’t much to see beyond the abundance of prisons. A new face was a curiosity.
Ellie’s face wasn’t new, but it had been a long time. Still, even as she nodded politely at Alice, the other woman cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing in thought.
“You look awful familiar.” The waitress brushed a strand of bushy blonde curls behind her ear, then tapped her stubby pencil on her notepad.
“I’ll try that pie, please.” It was Ellie’s desperate attempt to throw Alice off the scent, Gabe knew, but it didn’t work. The blonde’s eyes lit up, and she let out a squeal that nearly burst his eardrums.
“Ellie Kendrick. Oh, I knew you’d be coming through sometime, what with your grandma’s passing and all.” Despite the sudden and utter stiffness of Ellie’s body, Alice swooped down and enfolded her in a hug. “Too bad you couldn’t get back for the funeral. I’m so sorry about that.”
If Ellie had been stiff before Alice had spoken, she became absolutely rigid at the words. Gabe furrowed his brow, confused.
“I can’t wait for that pie. Maybe a glass of cherry cola to go with it, if you still have that.” Her voice was firm, the intent clear.
Go away. Far, far away.
The second Alice bubbled her way to the front counter, Ellie slid out from the table. Gabe caught her wrist in his hand, wasn’t prepared for the blast of heat that came from the simple touch.
“What’s wrong?” He knew instantly that it was the wrong thing to say when Ellie laughed mirthlessly as pulled away from his touch as if his fingertips had burned her.
“You heard her. Too bad you couldn’t get back for the funeral.” So many emotions played over Ellie’s face that he couldn’t have picked out just one. “She didn’t expect me to. No one in this town did. Not even you.”
The words roused his anger, but they hurt as well. Frowning, he rose with her, took her shoulder and turned her to face him.
“That’s a cheap shot, Ellie.” He’d thought to remind her that she had left him—and the town of Florence—behind, but she just shook her head slowly.
“I’m not that girl anymore. I had to grow up. You made me grow up.” It broke his heart a little that, rather than accusation in her eyes, he saw acceptance. “But this town will never see that. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. And I don’t know why I care.”
“Ellie, wait.” She pulled out of his grasp, hurried past a bewildered Alice, who watched the scene with a tall glass of fizzing soda in her hand.
Gabe followed Ellie right out the door of the diner to the street.
He didn’t care. Just like it once had, his focus had narrowed until it included just him and Ellie.
She didn’t stop. He followed her right across the street—the cop in him noticed that she didn’t bother to check for traffic—and to the front door of the shop.
Which he noticed that she’d left unlocked. Despite her claims, some things stayed the same.
“Ellie. What the hell was that about?” Slowly, she turned to face him, and his hormones—he refused to think it was his feelings—jolted.
Standing like this—they’d done it so many times before. But most of those times had ended with hot, delicious kisses that had led to him buried inside of her welcoming body.
He hated himself for the heat that the memory brought. For noticing the way her simple T-shirt outlined her breasts, the way emotion had brought a flush of pink to her skin.
“Time moves on, Gabe. People change. But I know what the people here are like. I shouldn’t have expected anyone to think of me as anything but the girl I used to be.” The confused, scared girl… he could hear the words, though she didn’t say them.
And he noted that she didn’t separate him out from the others in town. His temper rose, making him want to give her a good shake.
He had been the only one to bother cracking open the prickly exterior to find the person inside. And yet in the end, it hadn’t mattered—she’d broken her promise to him. The biggest promise she’d ever made.
“What happened to you?” He asked softly. Ellie sucked in a breath at his words. And for a moment he thought he might have gotten through to her—he’d had no inkling that she would be harboring such bitterness towards Florence.
But then she turned on her heel and went inside, shutting the door to the shop firmly—erecting a barrier where he’d hoped, foolishly, that there wouldn’t have to be one, after so many years and so many regrets.
He hadn’t thought they’d be friends—there was too much animosity, too many memories. But it made him sad that they couldn’t even be in the same room without causing one another pain.
Ellie’s parting words floated through the thick door, and though he didn’t know if she’d meant for him to hear them, they were an arrow slicing straight through him.
“I grew up.”
Chapter Three
The grocery store closest to Estelle’s had once been an independent business, run by a family that had lived in Florence for a long time—one of the few families that, like Ellie’s¸ had little to do with the prison culture that permeated the very atmosphere of the town. But now the small grocery was part of a larger chain, and Ellie was surprised by the twinge of regret that pinched her gut as she pulled a metal cart from the long row and, head down, strode inside.
A cool sweat broke over her skin, making the loose wisps of her ponytail stick to the back of her neck, as she tucked her chin to her chest and walked purposefully towards the produce section, hoping her demeanour didn’t encourage anyone to approach her. But even with her attention firmly focused on finding just the right apple, she could feel the stares. Knew she wasn’t imagining her name, murmured in a hushed voice.
Defiance was a knee jerk reaction, and so she raised her chin, met the eyes of a clerk stacking crates of tangerines. No more than fifteen or so—the age Ellie had been when she’d left—the young girl seemed startled by the intensity of Ellie’s glare.
She had a streak of purple in her hair that made Ellie’s lips curl up just the slightest bit. Florence wasn’t a town that understood purple hair. So this girl must have a touch of the rebel in her, just like Ellie had.
But had she e
ver looked that painfully young? That innocent?
She certainly hadn’t felt that way. No, even at fifteen, she’d felt like the weight of the world was perched on her skinny, neglected shoulders.
Until she’d met Gabe. And he’d lifted some of the burden. Until she’d been crushed by the weight of the biggest load of all.
And seeing him last night—he hadn’t acknowledged it. Not even a bit. And though she honestly thought she’d long buried it, the resentment suddenly flared hot and bright—she was the one who had lost her home, her childhood, her innocence. Even though he was equally to blame, even though she’d really thought he’d respond when she’d tried to reach him. Thought that it had all been one giant misunderstanding.
But maybe she’d never really known him at all.
Stomach churning, she moved on. Ignoring the bakery—she’d always had a weakness for sweets, she picked out a jug of milk, some yogurt, some eggs. Just enough for a few days, while she got things in order.
Then she could go back to Colorado, to the ritzy florist’s shop where she was allowed to create pieces of art with expensive and unique blooms that were a million miles away from the bread and butter mums and baby’s breath that the people around here appreciated. It made Ellie feel good to roll her cart to the tiny cooler that the store had designated as the floral area. Running her fingers over the different buds, she mentally clucked that they were even available for purchase—in a bouquet of twelve roses, she counted two blown heads, petals falling off the stem, and six bullets, which would never open.
Quick on the heels of the thrill of satisfaction, though, came embarrassment. She hated that just being here in Florence—being around Gabe—took her maturity level right back to where it had been before she left.
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