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Saving Mel: A Bad Boy Romance by Rye Hart (2)

CHAPTER 2
MELANIE

 

I sat at the kitchen table poring over the bills and feeling the panic start to rise in my chest. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. I needed to find a job that paid decent, and fast.

I needed to get my ass in gear.

I graduated from the University of Montana nearly six months ago and had yet to find work. There wasn’t much need for a preschool teacher here in Bozeman and, with my father’s health rapidly declining, I couldn’t exactly leave in search of a job somewhere else.

My dad never asked me to stay, that was more due to his pride and love more than anything. My mother had taken off when I was just a baby so I was the only one left to take care of him and he was too fragile to move with me anywhere.

So, here I was in Bozeman with a degree that was doing nothing for me, and a mounting pile of medical bills that I couldn’t pay. I pushed away from the table and went to check on Dad. He was still sleeping soundly as I stood in his doorway watching the rise and fall of his chest, and with that view my heart grew inside.

Dad was only fifty-two, but the years had not been kind. After my mother ran out to follow some country singer around the states, my father worked extra hard to provide for me. He’d given me a good life, but it came with the expense of his health. Now, it was time for me to return the favor.

Hence, the reason I was so stressed about work.

I sighed and walked back into the kitchen, picking up my phone and dialing my best friend Layla’s number.

“What’s up?” came her usual greeting.

“Oh, you know, just living the dream. Thinking about my broke ass and how the hell I’ll fix it,” I said.

Layla laughed on the other end of the line. “Well, you could always start hooking outside the bar. With that body of yours, you’d probably make a decent living. Maybe I could even be your pimp,” she said.

I giggled and leaned my head against the refrigerator. “And this is why I call you when I’m feeling shitty. You can always make me laugh,” I said appreciatively.

“That’s what I’m here for, babe. Hey, how about you come have breakfast with me? I don’t have to be at the coffee shop for a couple of hours yet. My treat,” she offered.

“That actually sounds like a great idea,” I said. “Dad will be sleeping for a while yet, and getting out of this house will do me some good.”

“Great, I’ll see you at the diner,” Layla said.

I went back to Dad’s room one more time to make sure he was comfortable. I could tell by the slackness of his jaw that he was sleeping deeply and I would have at least an hour or two before he would wake. I checked my watch and noted the time I would need to be back. I jotted a quick note for him and made sure his phone was next to the bed before I grabbed my keys and headed for my car.

As I stepped outside, I glanced around me, always on alert.

Ever since that day, nearly four years ago, I always looked over my shoulder when I was out alone. Shaking my head and rolling my shoulders back, I took a deep breath and hopped off the porch, sliding into the front seat of my car and heading the short distance into town.

As I pulled into the lot of our favorite diner –the one with the best damn milkshakes I’d ever had – I saw Layla leaning against her car with her face in her phone as she waited for me.

“Damn, it’s colder than a witch’s titty out here,” she complained, pulling her coat tighter around her.

“No shit,” I agreed, stepping forward to wrap her in a hug.

Layla and I had been friends since preschool, and had been through everything together - breakups, makeups, etc. And she’d been there for me in the most incredible way four years back, when I needed her the most.

We linked arms and headed into the diner, waving at the waitress, Jamie, as we took our usual booth in the back. Jamie came over and took our orders quickly and we settled in for some good, old-fashioned girl talk.

“So, how are things with your dad?” Layla asked, concern furrowing her pretty brow.

I shrugged and sighed. “Well, his doctor thinks he’s stable now, so that’s good. As long as he takes his heart meds like he’s supposed to, he should be okay. The heart attack really did him in. He’s still so weak.”

Layla shook her head. “Well, I’m glad he’s at least stable.”

“Me too,” I said. “But he’s so damn stubborn, he’s driving me nuts. He keeps telling me to go live my life, but he’s still not able to take care of himself. If I wasn’t there to give him his pills every day, he’d forget half the time. I can’t just leave him, and he won’t move with me, even if he does gain some strength. He says Bozeman is where he was born, and Bozeman is where he’ll die.”

Layla laughed. “Sounds like someone else I know. You know you are just as bull-headed as he is.”

I stuck my tongue out at her as Jamie brought us our food.

“I really do need to find some sort of a job though,” I said. “Are they hiring at the coffee shop?”

Layla shook her head. “No, not right now. Things have been a little slow. I’m trying to convince them to amp up the menu a bit to maybe help bring more business our way, but you know how resistant people around here can be to change.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t I know it.”

I looked out the window and noted that it was starting to snow pretty hard. I checked my watch and groaned. “I should probably start heading back. Looks like the roads are starting to get covered, and you know they aren’t quick at all about salting out our way,” I said.

Living just outside of town, up the mountain a bit, was certainly peaceful, but in winter it could really be a pain in the ass to get back and forth. I finished my breakfast and thanked Layla for treating, promising to return the favor if and when I ever found a damn job.

I stepped out of the diner and checked my surroundings out of habit one more time, before climbing into my car and heading home to Dad. As I drove, the snow started falling even harder; the big fat flakes were hitting my windshield faster than my wipers could clear them. I leaned forward and squinted as I slowed down. The last thing I needed was to end up in a ditch.

Just as I approached the bottom of the mountain, the wind picked up and shook my puny car violently. I gripped my steering wheel so tightly that my hands started to ache and my knuckles turned white. It wasn’t that I hadn’t driven in this type of weather; it was inevitable living halfway up a damn mountain in Montana. But knowing that my dad needed me to get home soon and safely, made me extra cautious.

I blew out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and turned up the heat in my car, blasting it as high as I could handle. I pressed the gas a little harder as I started my ascent, and prayed like hell I’d be home before the weather got much worse.

Shit, I really could do without this right now.