Where Their Hearts Collide: Wardham Book #2 (11 page)

BOOK: Where Their Hearts Collide: Wardham Book #2
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And from the wide, panicky look in her eye, some of it was fresh. She’d heard what he said to Susan. Perfect. He took a deep breath. “Karen, this is Megan’s mom. Susan, this is Karen. She’s…made our move here very easy.”

It was weak, but what else could he say?
You could apologize. You could kiss her and damn the consequences.

Susan extended her hand and the women exchanged pleasantries while they sized each other up. They couldn’t be more opposite. Susan had also changed a lot since their marriage. Her blond hair was highlighted now, perfectly frosted, to match her French manicure and tidy outfit. It all suited her delicate features and petite frame, but made her look more “hands off” than she really was.
Or had been. He didn’t know, anymore, and didn’t want to. He only cared about Karen, who wore her feelings on the sleeve of her loose long sleeve tee, and this entire encounter was torturing her. Time to put a stop to it.

“Sue, you were just heading out, right?” He placed a hand in the small of her back to guide her toward her car, but she resisted. She shot him a quick glance through narrowed eyes and held her ground.

“In a minute.”

“Actually, Karen said that there’s a
whole display of books I could use for my social studies project at the library, she saw it there earlier today, but the kids here are doing the same history projects, hence the display, so if I want a good book, I should go now. We should go now. Okay? Come on.” Megan hopped up and down. “Mom, you want to come? I can show you Bun. They make the best hot chocolate ever. Ever. I promise.”

He shot Susan
a
don’t you dare
look, and she had the good grace to not push him further. “Sorry, sweetie, I’m already running late as it is. Good luck with your project, okay?” She tugged Megan into a hug.

With the others temporarily distracted, he turned back to Karen, but he had no words. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his back pockets. Was it always going to be this hard?
Until the end of the summer, and then she’ll be gone
. The reminder squeezed at this throat. He’d rather be tortured like this than never see her at all. She didn’t seem to have the same problem though, because she blinked slowly, almost as if she preferred to not look at him. Fine.

“Meg, I actually have a reference letter to finish writing. You go on to the library with Karen, and we can go for a bike ride when you get back, okay?”

“Dad, come on.” She stretched the words out, stopped just short of whining. “I want to go to Bun, too.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed her the first bill he found. “Here you go.”

Apparently twenty dollars bought a lot of quiet. Meg shut up, and after an awkward wave, Karen was turning around and heading back the way she came, this time with his daughter bouncing alongside. He rubbed his chest, as if that might ease the ache. As if the ache was physical, and not something much harder to heal.

“Want to tell me what that was all about?”

With a start, he realized Susan hadn’t left yet. Code white, much? Fuckity fuck. “No.”

“I don’t think you ever looked at me like that.”

There was no malice in her voice, but he didn’t need another reminder that he
had been a shitty husband. “Don’t you have a cottage to get to?”

“Why aren’t you together?”

“Susan, seriously, stop.”

She stopped, but she didn’t leave.

He paced back toward his porch. Her right, to stand on his walk. His right to go inside. Except… “You want to know why we aren’t together?” He spun back toward his ex-wife. It wasn’t fair, or completely true, but he was pissed and someone was going to hear about it. “Because I spent a month telling myself, and her, that you’d have a problem with it because of Megan. And then when I decided that it was worth it, whatever hassle you were going to give me, then it was too late. She’s leaving town at the end of the summer. That’s why we aren’t together. And it’s six different kinds of fucked up, and it’s none of your business, so please. Head to your cottage now.”

He propped his hands on his hips and hung his head. That was a
crapload more than he’d intended to share.


She’s taking our daughter to the library.” Susan’s voice was low and warm.

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have a problem with you dating her.” He looked up. At least she wasn’t pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. An apology was written all over her face. “She’s different.”

“Yeah.”

They exchanged a look that covered the rest of that conversation wordlessly.  They weren’t friends anymore, just co-parents, and her acceptance of his social life only helped so much. Susan climbed into her car with one last concerned look in his direction.

 

Not his type
. She didn’t want to believe it, and wouldn’t have if he’d said it to anyone else. But now that she’d met Susan, it made sense. Karen had been something different, and there was a base attraction between them that she’d conflated into something special, but was probably more…ordinary for Paul. And since he wasn’t looking for a relationship,
not his type
would be easier to compartmentalize.

Unlike
Susan, who was the complete package. Pulled together, pretty, hard to resist. She even seemed nice, which made it hard to hate her for touching Paul so much. They touched each other
a lot
for exes that didn’t get along.
Didn’t they?

When Paul moved to protect Susan from their conversation, as if Karen might say something to reveal the very little that they’d done together, she expected to be angry.
Anticipated white hot rage to flood her veins. But as his arm reached around the petite blond, guiding her toward her car, it was resignation that took up residence in her heart.

Comprehension settled over her like a depressing blanket of mirrors, reflecting back to her all that she wasn’t. She was dimly aware of a tiny voice in the back of her head whispering something contrary to the rest of the noise, but by the time they had walked to the library, sorted through the books on display, and hit Bun for hot chocolate, Karen had had enough. She was done, with feeling sad for herself and aching for what might have been with Paul.

As they walked home again, slower this time, savouring the remnants of their hot drinks, Karen introduced Megan to a new term.

“An-
acro-nism.”

“Close.
Not like acrobat, but chronology, like time. Because we’re talking about getting things wrong for a time period. Anachronism.”

“Wow. That’s cool.”

“There are some cool books that get creative with it on purpose. I’m going to talk about them at the next reading club, if you want to come. It’s on a Saturday morning.”

“I’ll have to ask my dad. I’d like that, if I’m here.” Megan scuffed her foot on the sidewalk. “Karen…”

Don’t ask me about your dad. Please don’t—

“Why didn’t my dad want to come with us today?”

This was a situation that most definitely called for a lie. Ethics be damned. “He had a letter to write. I’m sure he’ll come with us next time.”

“There will be a next time?”
Small and hopeful, Meg’s voice cut straight to Karen’s heart.

“Yes. Oh, yes.” She slid her hand around the girl’s smaller hand and squeezed. “I love going to the library with you. I think we just might be kindred spirits when it comes to books.”

A small squeeze back told her the feeling was mutual. Another reason to move on and get over her infatuation. There were two people living next door, and Megan could never know about whatever it was that they almost had.

Karen stopped on the sidewalk in front of her house, and shook her head when Megan tugged gently on her hand.

“Awww, come on! I want to show my dad the book you helped me find.”

“I bet he’s still writing, and I actually have a phone call I need to make.” At least that wasn’t a complete lie. “Go on by yourself. I’ll watch until you’re inside. And tell your dad, if he has any questions about reading club, he can text me, okay?”

She added the last bit to reassure Megan that whatever tension she’d picked up between them wasn’t going to be a problem. Now she just had to make good on that oblique promise.

Chapter Ten

 

The first opportunity to play the cool, unaffected neighbor came
eight days later at the monthly town council meeting. A rumour had whipped through the community that representatives from national retail chains would be present to discuss leasing options for two store fronts being considered in the community centre plans. Karen was a bundle of nerves after meeting with one of those representatives privately that morning on a separate but related matter. Her parents had entrusted her with the initial discussions on the potential sale of the store, which she mostly resented, when she was being honest about it. But the meeting had gone well, and pretty soon her responsibilities for Wardham Grocery would come to an end, one way or another.

Thankfully, tonight she was just an observer. By the time she arrived at town hall, it was down to standing room only, but as she squeezed in a side door
to the council chambers, Evie caught her eye with a furious wave. Her friend was sitting on one of the long benches in the middle of the room, and squeezed over to make space.

“Crazy turn out tonight, eh?”
Evie tucked her purse under the seat as Karen joined her.


Mmm. Any idea who’s going to talk tonight?”

“Carrie’s speaking about the benefits of letting local companies have first dibs on the space. Dale stopped me on the way in to rant about national chains taking over, which is ridiculous, but I want to support Carrie, and they’re sort of on the same side.”

Karen rolled her eyes. Only in a deluded way, because Dale was a salesman at the local Ford dealership. Since his very healthy paycheque came from selling an international brand, she didn’t get his stake in the issue.

Guilt stabbed through her gut. If Carrie knew what they were considering for the store, two doors down from Bun, she’d probably add it to the agenda tonight. Unlike the community
centre, though, there were no public dollars at stake in the decision to sell Wardham Grocery. Her friend might not like it, but it was a private family matter.

But before her thoughts could wind too far in that direction, the crowd shifted and her attention was pulled to a long length of midnight blue against the far wall.
Paul stood with Rick Martinez, another constable at the detachment. The younger man was talking quietly in Paul’s ear as they surveyed the room, probably giving him the lowdown on everyone in attendance.

Paul
had his thumbs notched into the front of his Kevlar vest, a relaxed pose she’d bet a dollar was purposefully adopted. His short sleeved uniform showed off his lean, corded forearms, and she couldn’t help but notice the subtle veins and a dusting of hair that gave the topography of his tan skin delicious interest.
That’s neither platonic nor aloof
.

She forced her gaze away and did her own assessment of the room.
Almost at capacity now. She tried to focus her thoughts on the people around her, but it didn’t take long before she was staring at him again. One hand was still tucked into his vest, but the other now worried his bottom lip as he watched the council members file in at the front of the room. She remembered the firm pressure of that lip on hers. The pinch of those fingers on her nipple. How terribly unfair life was that she’d only experienced that through a shirt and bra.

“Karen, stop staring at The Sheriff.”

“Stop calling him that.” Carrie had coined the nickname and Evie latched on like a kid on a lollipop. Karen exhaled hard and flicked her attention to a hangnail on her thumb. “I’m getting over him.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Whatever, you don’t need to.” She pouted for a second, and her friend elbowed her in the side. “No, I really am. Living next door is actually going to make that easier. It turns out he’s a bit of a jerk.”

She filled
Evie in on the overheard conversation that had happened while her friend was out of town, and the blond was halfway out of her chair to give Paul a piece of her mind when the mayor leaned forward and gave a one minute warning into the microphone in front of him. Evie slumped back and glowered across the room. Karen tugged on her arm, desperate to break Evie’s magnetic glare at the constables. Paul was far too alert to not feel that buzzing aimed at his head.

“Really, it’s for the best. If I thought I was missing out on something special, the summer would drag by. Now I know that the only thing special about Paul was his way with dirty words, and frankly,
I’ve got the internet for that.”

Evie
giggled, then snorted, her laughter growing instead of fading away as people turned to look at them. Karen couldn’t help but join in, and Paul’s head jerked in their direction as soon as she guffawed. The ache on his face stole her breath away. He must not have meant to show her anything, because his eyes widened as she paused mid-laugh, and for a second, let her face reflect the same. Bittersweet understanding arced across the room. The noise of the gathering crowd continued around them, but for a moment, they were alone together.

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