Inevitably You Read online

  "Well, hey there. Look who it is." The man from the animal shelter yesterday afternoon pauses at our table and unleashes his perfect smile on me and my friends. Nerves flutter in my belly as he leans down to rest his hands on the table beside me, his triceps flexing under the tight fabric of his T-shirt. "It's David," he says when I don't immediately respond. "From yesterday at the animal shelter."

  "Oh, I remember," I say, forcing myself to breathe.

  "Well, that's a relief. I would be crushed if you said otherwise." David shifts, getting even closer to me and stealing every last ounce of oxygen from the room. "You can tell your little girl that Mouse is all settled in and having a great first day of freedom."

  "Oh yeah? She'll be so glad to hear that." I look down at the table, desperate to break eye contact, only to immediately miss the connection between us. Damn it. The last thing I need in my life is sexual tension. My plate is overflowing as it is.

  "Ummm. Hi." Lexi extends a hand across the table. "I'm Lexi and this is Bailey." She jerks her head towards our friend and then gives me a look, one that surely means trouble.

  He straightens to take her hand. "I'm David," he says with a warm smile. "Michelle and I met yesterday afternoon, and we hit it off so well she decided to start stalking me."

  "Me? Stalking you?" I laugh as I widen my eyes. "I was here first, my friend. In what world does that make me the stalker?"

  "Nice try, but I've been here with my brother for the last hour." He indicates a guy sitting at a table near the back of the bar who lifts a hand in greeting. "Which means I was here first. And when you think about it, I was at the animal shelter first, too. You can't miss it when you look at the facts." He glances at Bailey and jerks a thumb my way. "She's totally stalking me."

  Bailey sips her beer, eyeing David thoughtfully. "I don't know. Michelle isn't exactly stalker material."

  He laughs and my toes tingle. Damn it. I am not supposed to get all tingly over strange men. I swore off anything with a penis the second I left Russell.

  "Isn't that what they always say? When they interview the neighbors after someone finds one of those shrines in a backyard? The ones with a million pictures and a lock of someone’s hair? No one ever sees it coming." He winks at me and my cheeks ignite. "It was nice seeing you again," he continues without missing a beat. "I assume I should expect to run into you again soon."

  I manage a weak laugh paired with a squeaky goodbye that I hope sounds effortlessly easy and breezy before he turns and saunters away. I stare after him, my attention stolen by the broad, straight line of the shoulders that taper down to a slim waist. He's got my favorite body type, with a torso that look like an upside-down triangle and an ass that makes those jeans look fucking magnificent.

  "What the hell was that all about?" Bailey leans forward only to pause as a waitress approaches. "She'll have whatever you have on draft. The cheaper the better," Bailey says to the waitress before giving me her full attention.

  "She knows me well," I say, smiling at the confused girl in the Smitty's shirt.

  "Apparently not that well," mutters Bailey, lifting her eyebrows and sitting forward as the waitress heads towards the bar to put in the order for my beer. "Who was that guy?"

  Lexi also leans forward, licking her lips in anticipation of some juicy secret I don't have to give her. "Yeah, Michelle. Spill it. Who is that Mr. Wonderful sitting in the back of the bar with the hottie in the baseball hat?"

  "He's just some guy I met at the animal shelter yesterday." I go for nonchalant but miss by a mile.

  "Right." Bailey shakes her head. "I believe that, like, not at all."

  "No, but really." I pause as our waitress arrives with my drink. "I took Claire to the shelter to play with the cats yesterday and he was in there."

  "And fireworks exploded and it was love at first sight." Bailey sits up straighter in her seat, wiggling her shoulders and smiling, already planning our wedding.

  "No, nothing like that." I glance back at David who just happens to be glancing at me. He smiles and I return it as my friends gape at the entire exchange with wide eyes and dropped jaws

  "Sure." Lexi gives me a look that means she knows I'm full of shit. "That's what I saw happen right there. Nothing at all. Isn't that what you saw, Bay?"

  Bailey nods knowingly. "Oh yes. That was absolutely, hands down, beyond a shadow of a doubt, nothing at all."

  I hide my embarrassment by sipping my beer.

  "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," says Lexi, grinning even harder when I choke a little. My cheeks and neck are on fire. Damn my fair skin for holding up a bright pink flag any time I'm even a little off my game.

  "What if she just met her happily-ever-after?" A dreamy look floats through Bailey's eyes, all unicorns and glitter and rainbows that end in pots of gold. "Just like that." She snaps her fingers. "An innocent trip to the animal shelter sends her life onto a totally different path."

  "Maybe," Lexi says, cringing. "But don't forget. That totally different path might end up being a bad thing. Not everyone gets a prince, Bay."

  Bailey opens her mouth to argue, but closes it again right after. "I know you guys have had your fair share of heartbreak, but I promise you, true love is worth waiting for." Bailey looks so blissfully happy all Lexi and I can do is laugh.

  "What?" she asks, her gaze bouncing between the two of us.

  "True love is worth waiting for." Lexi puts a hand to her chest and sighs, mimicking Bailey in a girly tone. "I've got Gabe," she says, talking about her five-year-old son. "I think that's all the true love I'm ever going to need."

  Bailey turns to me. "I'm just sayin'. That guy? What's his name?"

  "David," I say, glancing back at him. He meets my eyes, smiles, and then gives his attention back to his brother.

  "She's a lost cause for sure." Lexi rolls her eyes and chews on her straw.

  "Whatever." I square my shoulders and lift my chin, making it as clear as I can that I am not looking back towards the Carmichael brothers. My years with Russell taught me everything about what being in a relationship is like. I give too much of myself and even when I'm with a decent person, I end up a little lost and a lot taken advantage of. But my ex-husband took things to a whole new level. I never, ever want back in a situation like that again. If that's what a relationship is, I want nothing to do with it.

  Besides, my life is an utter train wreck right now. It would be selfish of me to unleash it on someone else. I don't care how handsome David is, or how bright his smile, or how well he treats my daughter. He might truly be worthy of the nickname Mr. Wonderful, but the timing is all wrong. I adjust my seat so he's not in my direct line of sight and don't look his way again for the rest of the night.

  DAVID

  A yawn ambushes me as I slam the truck door. I stretch, blinking up towards the sky, surprised by how warm the early morning sun is on my upturned face. Sweat gathers at my temples and the base of my neck. Complaints about the weather have dominated small talk around Brookside, but I'm not bothered by the unseasonable heat. Not when my livelihood depends on good sun, clear skies, and enough rain to keep the soil hydrated. If things keep going the way they have, this oddly warm weather will culminate in a fantastic harvest for Carmichael Farms. Of course, if things take a sudden turn for the frigid, we could all be screwed, but I'm not giving that thought any room to grow. Gotta feed the mind good thoughts to cultivate good results.

  Mom has a pot of coffee brewed in the kitchen—in my kitchen, the one she let herself right on into without worrying about whether I'm cool with it or not—but she put it on the burner just before four this morning. Even though Mom would jump at the chance to make a new pot, I don't want to encourage her unfettered access to my house. Plus, I'm a big fan of the fair-trade stuff here at Homegrown—the best coffee shop and bakery in at least a hundred-mile radius. Candy, the owner, chief barista, baker, and all-around angel from heaven, uses jam she makes from my fruit for most of the pastries and never misses a moment to w
elcome me when I walk through the door.

  The chimes jingle as I push through the entrance, and the warm scent of coffee twines with the lushness that can only be fresh-baked brownies. My mouth starts watering before the door finishes swinging closed behind me.

  "Well look who it is," says Candy from her place behind the counter, and the people in line in front of me do just that, heads turning my way like I'm some kind of miracle they don't want to miss.

  My jaw drops as I recognize Michelle standing directly in front of me. This is getting weirder and weirder. Shock is sure to be written all over my face as plainly as it's written on hers. Brookside is a small town and I don't meet many new people over the course of a week. How is it that I've never seen her before now? We stare at each other for a few confused moments as Candy buzzes behind the counter.

  A crooked smile quirks the corner of Michelle's lips. "Who's doing the stalking now?"

  "No way," I say. "This is my favorite coffee shop. I basically live here. Right, Candy?"

  "What's that, hun?"

  "I live here."

  "Do you? Since when?" Candy gives me a mischievous look as she bags up a pastry for the man ahead of Michelle.

  "See?" asks Michelle. "Busted. This time you're the one stalking me."

  I grin. "This time? So you admit that you were stalking me the other times." I nod decisively as Michelle's cheeks grow pink. "I'm glad we got that cleared up."

  "That is not what I meant."

  "But that's what you said."

  Michelle laughs, her posture softening. "Yeah, but I didn't mean it like that." She wraps an arm around Claire who tears her eyes off the pastries behind the glass and looks up at me.

  Her eyes light up. "Hey! You're my kitty daddy."

  That innocent little nickname scrapes at my heart, but I smile through it and hope she doesn't notice how hearing the word daddy in her tiny voice affects me. "That's me," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets.

  "How's Mouse?"

  "Ferocious." I give Claire my most serious look.

  "I knew it. She's a survivor. Like us. Right, Mom?" She looks up at Michelle with the conviction of a child repeating something she's been told more than once.

  "That's right." Michelle shifts, wrapping an arm around her daughter and pulling her close just as the man in front of her gets his order and steps out of the way.

  "Small black House Blend?" Candy leans her elbows on the counter, smiling at Michelle who nods.

  "As usual." Her voice is quiet, low and intimate.

  "Oh, Momma. Look at that." Claire points to an apple turnover in the pastry case. "It looks so yummy. Can I have it, please?" Her voice holds more guilt than a child that age should even understand.

  Michelle's shoulders slump as she lets out a long sigh, staring hard at the prices on the menu. "Okay, Bear," she says with a weak smile before turning to Candy. "We'll skip the coffee today, okay? Just that apple turnover." She nods towards the pastry case and then digs in her purse for her wallet.

  I'm tempted to offer to buy Michelle's coffee, but don't want to offend her with the gesture. Random handouts from strangers have a way of poking tender egos. As always, Candy comes to the rescue. She snaps the lid on the small coffee she had already poured and slides it across the counter before reaching into the pastry case, pulling out the turnover, and wrapping it up in a napkin.

  "Tell you what, this turnover is a little old. Why don't you do me a favor and eat it before I have to throw it out? Just pay me for the coffee and we'll call it even." She glances at Michelle who starts to stammer in protest. "Really though," Candy continues. "I made it fresh with preserves from his apples." She gestures towards me with the pastry. "So it'd be a shame to waste it. Besides, you'd be doing me a favor if she could have it. David gets persnickety when I throw away his stuff."

  Michelle sucks in her lips and nods her approval as Claire squeals in excitement when Candy hands her the treat. Michelle counts out the cost of the coffee in change and thanks Candy profusely.

  "Do you have anywhere to be?" I ask Michelle as I step up to the counter, aiming for nonchalance and approachability. "Could I talk you into sharing a table with me?" The grin that breaks across my face does so on its own, brought to life by Michelle's clear blue eyes locked on mine.

  "I wish I could, but I have to head to work." She holds up the coffee. "Which is why I had to splurge on some high-quality caffeine. I've got a long day ahead of me."

  Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail with loose tendrils brushing her cheeks. The black leggings, loose T-shirt, and sneakers tell me she's not heading in to a serving job or retail, and the fact that today is Saturday rules out anything business related.

  "Fitness instructor?" I ask, taking a wild stab at her profession based off of how well those leggings hug her legs.

  Michelle shrugs. "Kind of."

  "Kind of? How are you kind of a fitness instructor?"

  "My mommy is a dance teacher." Claire swallows a mouthful of pastry. "She used to be a ballerina." Pride lights the little girl's eyes.

  "Really?" I arch an eyebrow. "A ballerina?"

  "Yeah, but that was a lifetime ago." She puts a hand on Claire's shoulder. Her eyes meet mine just as the sun emerges from behind a cloud, bathing the coffee shop in light. Dust motes dance in the air behind her and I savor the moment. It's beautiful. She's beautiful.

  "But I do have to go." She checks the clock on the wall and shakes her head. "I drill it into my students that if they're on time, they're late. I'd be a terrible example if I broke my own rule, wouldn't I?"

  I hold up a hand as she heads to the door, her eyes still trained on mine. "Stalk you later?" I ask, dropping her a wink.

  She giggles—a sweet, warm thing that makes me want to smile. "Stalk you later," she replies as the door closes between us.

  When I turn around, Candy is at the counter with a large House Blend in her hands and an incredulous look on her face. "Well hello chemistry."

  "Does she come here a lot?" I lean on the counter with one elbow while on the other side of the storefront windows Michelle helps Claire into the backseat of an old Dodge Neon.

  "Not often, but if she shows up, it's on a Saturday. Always pays in change and I can't tell you how many times she's given up her own coffee to buy her little girl something." Candy shakes her head. "She doesn't like it when I try to give her stuff, but that doesn't stop me from trying. I swear the only reason she let me do it today was because you were here to witness the whole thing."

  "God, I hate to hear that." I straighten and reach into my back pocket for my wallet.

  "You should have asked for her number." Candy takes my credit card and slides the coffee towards me.

  I laugh. "Something tells me I'll run into her again."

  The card goes back into my wallet and the wallet goes into my back pocket while my head is going a mile a minute about Michelle. Candy's right. The chemistry between is could start a wildfire in a drought, no doubt about that. And she's gorgeous, which only adds fuel to fire. But after years of insanity, everything settled into place for me over the last couple months. I'm happy with the way things are. Truly, honestly, way-the-fuck happy.

  After Becky, I promised myself I'd never bring someone into my life who didn't have their shit together, and if Michelle's scraping for change to buy coffee, then it sounds like she falls on the wrong side of that line. Logic tells me that we're a non-starter, but for the first time in a long time, I don't want to listen to logic.

  I swing open the door, take one step outside, and pause. "Hey Candy?"

  "Ask me anything, gorgeous."

  "Do me a favor. From now on, whenever they come in, make sure the little girl gets something sweet to eat. Just make up some excuse and then charge it to me."

  Candy nods, planting her elbows on the counter and letting her eyes rake over me. "You're one of the good ones, you know that?"

  I shrug off the compliment. "I just can't stand the thought of a little girl
having to go without good things in her life," I say as I step outside and let the door swing shut behind me.

  MICHELLE

  The knock on my door sends my stomach to my feet. Three hard thumps, a fist slamming into the cheap wood with insistence. That's not the sound of a Girl Scout selling cookies or a salesman hoping to talk me into switching internet providers. That's the sound of someone who's here to demand something from me.

  Lexi looks up from the snacks she's organizing for our park trip with the kids today. "Want me to answer that?"

  That's not a hard question to answer. Yes. I would very much prefer that she act as a buffer between me and whoever is out there, but I am a grown woman, capable of opening my own door.

  "No worries." I wipe my hands on the back of my jeans. "I can do it." Dread gathers in my bones, charging the marrow with an electric current that has my body humming. I take a deep breath and promise myself that I'm overreacting.

  And then I open the door.

  Standing on my porch, his eyes crackling with the same kind of crazy that always takes my breath away, is Russell. His leering smile strangles me. The curl of his upper lip is a thousand pounds of nightmares pressing against my chest. The thin mesh of the screen door separating us might as well be made of smoke, for all the protection it provides me.

  "Open the door."

  I shake my head, fighting for even one single breath. "No." The word is so quiet it almost doesn't exist.

  Russell steps forward, his eyes like ice and fire, sending sweat shivering down my spine. "What did you say?"

  I clear my throat. "I said no."

  "I want to take Claire for a little while."

  "You can't."

  "That's where you're wrong." Russell makes a fist with one hand and rolls it against the palm of his other, cracking his knuckles. "What is it we agreed to? Shared parenting? I can take my girl whenever I want, thanks to your fancy divorce paperwork."