Very pretty. Good family. Librarian. Very possibly a virgin. Just the woman you’d set up in a house behind a white picket fence who would bake pies, be the leader of your daughter’s Brownie troop who you could train to give world class head.
Her looks, her demeanor, her age which I figured was not far off mine and her possible virgin status meaning she was probably one of two of her type in the entire state of Colorado. Which made her, at my approximation, one of maybe one hundred in the entire United States of America.
Worth hanging around Carnal for, let her sit waiting in the wings as you sowed your wild oats, even if your boss was dirty, stinking filth.
Then suddenly she’s completely out of your reach when you’re forced to marry the town’s crazy, playing slut, your father is a sleazebag, albeit a rich one, and even though you were shoved in the mud but risked a lot to pull yourself out and get clean, you’d never quit feeling dirty.
I nodded to Poppy again and asked, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” she replied.
“Can you change my order from takeaway and serve it at Detective Keaton’s table?”
She blinked. Then her mouth dropped open. Then her eyes darted back and forth between me and Chace’s table. I came in relatively frequently but never chitchatted with her because she was always busy. Still, she knew me. She knew Chace. She knew Misty. She knew Ty. And she knew our intermingling history.
This wasn’t a surprise. Everyone did.
Then hesitantly she repeated, “Uh… sure.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, sucked in air, turned from the counter and walked on my high heels through the diner toward Chace’s table.
His eyes were on me when I was ten feet away.
I didn’t stop until my ass was planted across from him.
He held my eyes a moment and then said low, “Lexie.”
“Hi,” I replied softly.
“Somethin’ I can do for you?”
“Yeah, sit there and listen to me say thank you for helping me and Ty.”
He said nothing, just held my eyes.
So I said, “Thank you.”
“My job,” he replied.
“No it wasn’t,” I whispered. “What you did was beyond the call of duty and we both know it.”
He again said nothing but his gaze never left mine.
“So, thank you.”
He jerked up his chin then muttered, “Don’t mention it.”
I smiled and reminded him, “I just did, like three times.”
Chace Keaton did not smile.
So I stopped smiling then started quietly to say, “I think you now that I know –”
Chace interrupted me. “Do me a favor, Lexie, and don’t talk about it.”
I shut my mouth.
“Move on,” he stated. “It’s a small town but big enough that you and Walker can go your way, I’ll go mine.”
“I can’t do that.”
He dropped his pen, sat back and lost what I suspected was one of his many cop faces, this one was carefully composed to look polite, mildly interested but mostly detached and communicating the minute you were done with him, he’d move on and not think about you again. What came up was impatient and annoyed which I suspected was not a cop face.
“Why?” he asked.
I leaned forward and explained, “Because I have a husband whose power was stripped from him and I lived a life that offered limited choices and the ones it offered weren’t very good so I kinda know what you’re going through.”
“You have no clue.”
“I do.”
He leaned forward too. “All right, Lexie, then how’s this? No offense, but I don’t give a fuck if you do.”
To that, I informed him, “She was staring at you.”
He did a slow blink at the change in subject, the anger that had edged into his annoyed impatience changed to mystification and he asked, “What?”
“Faye Goodknight,” I answered and then I got surprise then more than an edge of anger.