When I turned around, Hannah was arranging furniture nearby, and I could tell she’d been trying to listen. There was that nosey look about her. I walked back to the truck to get the rest of the swings, hoping to avoid her questions. I got three unloaded and placed where she wanted them before she cleared her throat.
“I overheard some. I couldn’t help it. He was talking loudly. Do you, uh, need help finding Steel?” Overheard my ass. She’d been straining her neck to hear us talk. I replied brusquely, “No, I need to do that alone.”
She busied herself with the Adirondack chairs, fucking around with the all-weather pillows, before looking back again. “I thought they were engaged.”
This town talked too damn much. “She never said yes, Hannah.”
“Oh,” her voice was soft. Like she was disappointed. “I can’t imagine a girl turning Steel down. He’s such a good guy and all.”
The need to defend Dixie was strong. But I fought it. Had to let it go. “Love is a fickle bitch. Can’t pick and choose where your heart will lock in. If we could, life would run a helluva lot smoother. We’d all be goofy happy.”
That made her silent for a while. I was done unloading and about to ask if she needed me to rearrange anything else that was too heavy for her. Instead, she put her hands on her hips, and got that look that meant she was going to offer her opinion whether I wanted it or not.
“Some people want what they can’t have. Has nothing to do with love. It’s more of a way to protect themselves from really feeling something deep. You were Dixie’s first love. She’s built that fantasy in her head and needs to move on from it.”
Yeah. She should’ve kept that to herself. I counted backwards from ten before meeting her gaze, “Or maybe some things aren’t your business and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong speaks volumes about you.”
Her cheeks immediately flushed. I’d driven my point home and I knew I had been harsh. I wasn’t a mean guy, I controlled my temper most of the time, but I couldn’t stop myself on this occasion. Bray would’ve lit her ass on fire and left her in scalding tears. His temper could burn down a whole damn forest. But I had gone too far.
“This isn’t easy. We’re dealing with it the best we can. Having others who don’t know the whole story give their opinions is, well, it’s unkind, Hannah. There’s so much shit you don’t know.” I was trying to ease the sting of my words and realized that I might have only made it worse.
She nodded. “Of course. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t have a filter on my mouth. My momma has always said that.” She looked forlorn and I hated myself for making her feel that way.
The fact she owned up to her actions made me respect her a little more. Hannah wasn’t a bad person. “We all say shit we wish we could take back, Hannah,” I replied, offering her a small smile.
She smiled back. “Thanks,” she returned, her cheeks still pink.
“I can appreciate it when someone knows they’ve messed up and owns up to it. I don’t always do that myself. Not many people do.”
Her soft laughter was attractive and genuine. “I have a very blunt mother. She takes no shit, and I guess it’s helped me in my life, without me even knowing it.”
“I figure you’d be the same either way. My momma shuts us down fast, no punches held, but not all my brothers have learned much from that. Some did, others didn’t.”
Hannah smirked, “I’d say you and Bray, for one, are nothing alike. I remember him from high school.”
I gave her a nod and said, “None of us are like Bray, he’s different from us all. Dallas, however, is running a close second on the smartass scale the older he gets.”
“Bray looks hot while he’s being nasty. I’m sure that helps with all the girls he goes out with.”
“Like a charm,” I assured her while smiling.
She laughed again. It was pleasantly appealing. Not annoying or grating for once. Hannah would make it just fine in this world. Getting to know her was nice. I could admit she was attractive and I liked more than just her looks. But my heart was not in it. When I left here today, I wouldn’t think of her again until I returned to work tomorrow. Her face wouldn’t stay in my mind, her smile would fade ever so quickly. Only one face always stayed with me, even when I prayed to God for some reprieve.
Dixie Monroe
WORK WENT ON and on. All day I’d thought about this morning’s encounter with Steel. With relief also came sadness. He’d looked at me with such hate. That was hard to accept because I didn’t want him to hate me. Steel was special to me, but I understood his reaction. I didn’t want him to regret the moments we’d spent together, but wanting Steel to remember me fondly was selfish of me. If he needed to hate me, then I had to accept it. I would hate me, too.
I finished cleaning up the salon and wiping down the tanning beds, which was the part of my job that I hated the most. When it was ready for reopening tomorrow, I locked up and stepped outside, coming face to face with a very drunk Steel leaning against my Jeep.
“You’re either stupid or just a bitch. I can’t figure it out.” Steel slurred as I slowly approached him. I stated the obvious, “You’re drunk.” He cackled loudly, responding as if it were a mystery, “Oh, she’s a sharp one, folks. Guess she’s not stupid after all. Just a bitch. A mean ol’ bitch.”
It stung hearing Steel call me a bitch, but he was drunk and hurting, so I couldn’t let it get to me. Instead, I tried to be sensible, “Get in the Jeep. I’ll drive you home.”
He gave me an incredulous look. “You think I’d get in that Jeep with you? Shit, girl, maybe you are stupid. I want nothing to do with you. Nothing! You hear that, Dixie Monroe? N-O-T-H-I-N-G!”
I could have pointed out that he was here to see me. That I hadn’t gone after him. But I was dealing with a drunk man. I saw no point in arguing with him. “You can’t drive like this.”
He pushed off from my Jeep, held his arms wide, then revolved in a dizzying circle, spinning while flapping his arms a little. “Do you see my motherfucking truck? Do you? No, you don’t. How you reckon I’m gonna drive it if it aint’t here?”
Steel was right. No evidence of a truck. “So you’re just walking around drunk?”
“Ain’tyourproblemwhatthefuckIdo,” he snarled, but the way his words ran together, it didn’t sound as angry as he hoped.
“Steel, you’re here at my Jeep. I must wonder why? If I’m a stupid bitch . . .” I was not going to reason with a drunk man. I should text Brent and have him come get Steel. Bray wasn’t around lately and wouldn’t care if he remained on foot. And Asher . . . well, Asher was no longer someone I could contact. Yesterday, he’d made that as clear as it had ever been.
“Wanted to see if you were planning on running to Asher now that you’re free of me.”