Nine
Vivienne
“Ace,” Ollie warns my pup when she stops playing and starts growling. As soon as she attempts to move from her spot in the yard, the sound of an approaching visitor coming up the drive signaling to her that playtime is over, Ollie tells her to stay. She listens, as always, and I’m thoroughly impressed. As always.
“Aren’t the three of you just the picture of domestic bliss?”
“Davis,” I cry. I had no idea he would be here today. Leaving Oliver and Ace, I run and jump into his arms, ready to weep at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”
He pulls back to look at me. “Well, I thought I was here to help with work, but have you looked in the mirror?”
My hand goes to my face, wiping, trying to get off any traces of dirt or grass that may be there from rough-housing with Ace.
“No, honey. Your roots. They’re critical. We’ve got to fix this.”
“I’ve been so distracted, I haven’t even thought about it.”
He smirks, eyes drawn to Oliver and Ace rough-housing in the yard. “Obviously.”
“You have to meet Ace,” I tell him as he lowers me to the ground.
“We’ve FaceTimed, remember,” he deadpans.
“Come here, Ace,” I say, but she stays by Ollie, not budging.
Traitor.
“Bishop, can you tell my dog to come.”
“You do it, Princess.”
“I did. She didn’t listen.”
“That’s because you said it in English.”
“Can’t I have a bilingual dog?”
“Do it,” he tells me.
“This is so interesting,” Davis says beside me.
“Ace, ga.”
The second I issue the command, she comes running over, practically knocking me down. She’s growing every day, getting smarter and more beautiful.
“Good girl,” Ollie says. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Ace, but I blush at his words. At the deep warmth of his voice.
“Why didn’t you call me to tell me you were flying in?”
“I didn’t fly.”
“You brought my car here?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t walk.”
“Bishop, Davis brought my car. I don’t have to use your truck anymore.”
He walks over and greets Davis, then turns back to me. “And what kind of car is it? One that will be fit to haul shit around while you’re renovatin’ a house?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Didn’t think of that.”
“Lemme guess, Princess, you have a BMW.”
“Eww,” Davis rolls his eyes.
“No? A Mercedes?”
“Not just any Mercedes,” my assistant answers. “Vivienne owns a Maybach S600.”
“Should I be impressed?” He sure doesn’t look like he is.
“Even a man as gay as me gets a hard-on over the engine specs on that thing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the little girl’s room.”
He heads to the house, leaving me alone with Ollie and Ace. An Ollie with a strange look on his face. A heated look on his face.
“See, I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“He’s not your man. Far from it.”
“He’s my assistant and my best friend.”
Ollie steps closer, the fire in his eyes growing darker. “Might be a game changer.”
“Bishop—” I start, but I have no idea what to say to him. I’m kept from having to think about it too hard, though, when Davis comes back out.
“Girl, you haven’t done a thing in there.”
I step away from Ollie and start to feel like I can breathe again. He walks with Ace closer to the house. I don’t know if he needs space from me, too, or if he’s giving us some privacy to talk. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Three words for you. Chip and Joanna.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“I didn’t think you would but trust me. We’re going to binge watch the hell out of some HGTV. You’ll be so inspired, you won’t know what to do with yourself. This place will be farmhouse chic at its finest.”
“Can we hang out for a bit before I get inspired?”
He looks back and forth between me, Ollie, and Ace. “Looks like that’s all you’ve been doing is hanging out, but sure. Want to go to that bar?”
“Buddy’s? I thought you didn’t like it?”
“I have a plan, baby girl.” He winks before turning to Ollie. “Bishop, would you like to join us for a drink?”
“What are you doing?” I hiss as Ollie and Ace start walking over.
“It’s been a long drive. I would love to relax for a night before you put me to work.”
“Sure,” Ollie answers when he gets close.
“What? You don’t even like people. The bar is full of people. You might actually have to speak.”
Oliver shrugs. “He’s gonna be around. I’m gonna be around. We should get a drink.”
“What about Ace? She’s never been alone before.” I’m scrambling to get out of this situation. I don’t know what Davis is doing, but I know that I don’t like it.
“Ace can come.”
“To a bar?”
“Have you been inside Buddy’s?”
“Let’s go.” Davis practically drags me to the car.
“I need to go touch-up my makeup.”
“With those roots, baby girl, nobody will even notice your smeared eyeliner. Get your ass in the car.”
We all pile in after a ten-minute argument that results in Ollie behind the wheel, me and Ace next to him, and Davis – with a huge ass grin – in the back. He tries to make small talk on the short drive to the bar, but none of it works to distract me from the heat rolling off Oliver. He mentioned a game changer. I can feel it. It’s exciting. It’s scary. It’s not something I’m sure I want.
Luckily, I don’t have to think about it too much because we pull up at Buddy’s and I hop out of the car, Ace in tow, and haul ass to a booth in the back before either of them are even out of the car.
_____
Panic takes over when I wake up to voices in the kitchen. It claws its way up and clings a little deeper when I attempt to get out of bed and look down. The headache pounding behind my eyes and the fact that I’m in Ollie’s shirt from last night send me crashing back down against my pillow.
What the hell happened last night?
My brain starts to wake up, sharing flashes of the night before. I cringe and force myself to get up. Many scattered things are running through my mind, but not a single one provides an explanation for why I’m wearing my ex-boyfriend’s clothes instead of mine.
Tequila happened.
Laughs erupt from the kitchen, along with Ace’s excited barking. I can’t go in there. This puts walk of shame to a completely new level.
Damn you, Patron.
A shower is what I need. Hot water is good for the mind. I tiptoe to the bathroom, trying my hardest not to alert Davis and Oliver of my location, and quietly lock the door behind me. I wonder how long I can stay holed up in here before they’ll both get the hint that I’m not showing my face today and leave. Davis isn’t a patient man, but Oliver, he’d probably stay put until I used all the damn water in this town. When I slip his shirt over my head, the scent makes my head spin. I’ve never seen him smoke, but just like when we were younger, there’s a trace of tobacco, laced with the spicy scent that’s always clinging to his skin. I want to keep the shirt wrapped around me forever, but I toss it aside so I can step into the shower. This isn’t the time to deal with those feelings.
I catch my reflection out of the corner of my eye and let out a blood-curdling scream. Ace starts barking uncontrollably and seconds later there’s banging on the door.
“Are you okay?” Davis is asking at the same time Ollie is shouting, “Open up, Princess.”
My nudity not even an issue at the moment, I open the door and poke my head out. My mind is reeling over my current appearance. “What the hell happened last night?”
They both start laughing and neither of them give me any sort of answer.
“Hello? Anyone care to explain why my hair is not blonde like it was when I went to sleep last night?”
Davis speaks up. “Oh, it wasn’t blonde when you went to sleep. You had me dye it when we got home from Buddy’s.”
“Why in the hell would I do something so stupid? I’m a blonde. It’s my signature look.”
Davis and Ollie laugh harder and I have the overwhelming desire to punch both of them in their smug faces. “Not anymore, Princess.”
“Why?” I can’t imagine what would make me want to change my hair back to how it was when I was a kid. My goal when I moved from here was to change everything about myself.
“Two reasons,” Ollie starts. “One, Denise owns the only salon in town.”
“I would never let that whore touch a single strand of hair on my head.”
He belly laughs. “And you told her exactly that last night.”
I wait for him to give me the other reason, but he’s too busy laughing at my expense. Davis is cackling alongside him, and I want to remind him that he’s my friend, not Ollie’s, but I’m too interested to know the other reason.
“What’s reason two?”
Ollie’s face grows serious and my stomach dips. His eyes heat up and I suddenly remember I’m behind this door with nothing on.
“Bishop told you he likes you better with dark hair,” Davis shares. “So we got back here and you made me dye it back.”
“Really? I made you run out, get dye - from a grocery store of all places - and make my hair brown again just because Bishop likes it that way? I seriously doubt it.”
“Believe what you want Viv,” Ollie answers for Davis. “But why do you think you woke up in my shirt? Couldn’t risk gettin’ hair dye on your fancy clothes.”
“Oh.” My face heats up and I feel like an idiot because I let myself think that we went there last night.
“What? You think somethin’ happened between us when we got home?” He smiles, one of those rare ones that remind me of the old Oliver Bishop. “Water’s probably gettin’ cold. Hurry with that shower. You promised me breakfast.”
I shut the door and do what he asks, not because I’m particularly fond of following his orders, but because I’m scared about what he’s going to tell me next. What else did I promise him? What else did I tell him I’d do?
The hot water and steam work wonders on both my hangover and my memory. I remember sitting in the bar, uptight at first because I was in a public place with a dog at my feet. My nerves were all over the place because Ollie insisted on sitting next to me. Right next to me. Every time he’d move, his thigh would brush against mine, or his scent would drift pass my nose, and old feelings would surface. I remember talking to some of the locals, the murders on everyone’s minds. Everyone in Buddy’s seemed to have thoughts about not only who is responsible, but the motives behind their madness. Ollie sat quietly and let me and Davis do all the talking. His face remained stone still the whole time, uncomfortable with all the chatter. As he sat, staring straight ahead, I couldn’t help but look at his scar, the one that was a more pronounced version of mine. I couldn’t help but wonder how he got it. My fingers itched to trace it, but I kept them wrapped around my drink.
Then Davis started bringing over the tequila shots, and the rest of the night is fuzzy. Well, the conversations, not the feelings. Feelings of the past. Feelings I used to experience when I was around Ollie… riding around in his old truck, walking the property lines, hanging out in the hayloft in the old barn. Kissing. Touching. Being.
Feelings that never quite disappeared when he left me after graduation, broken and scarred. I hated him so much, but I couldn’t let go of the love, either.
With the hot water pounding down on me, I try to recall those feelings. Lying in the hospital bed, desperate for him, knowing that only his words and his presence could make me whole again. Except he wasn’t there. He left, and he was never coming back.
He didn’t even bother with an explanation.
So, I did the only thing I could to save myself. I left Bellemere forever. Changed my looks, closed off my heart, and made a name for myself in New York.
But now I’m back, and those old feelings are slowly creeping back in. Every time he comes over to train Ace, every time I see him working outside, every time he makes some sort of vague comment about the two of us, those feelings come back and I can’t help but think, What if?
Would it be so bad to give into him again?
Jesus, it must be the hangover talking. He forced me to change my entire life. I left my parents, friends, Lulu, all because of that night. All because of that whore Denise.
Her name reminds me of my now brown hair and my guests in the kitchen, so I finish up my shower and make myself presentable. I need to shut down this train of thought and concentrate on the breakfast I promised Ollie.
If I had to guess, it was Lulu’s beignets. He could never turn down Lulu’s beignets. And he knows I perfected her recipe in high school. Davis probably thought he was crazy when he asked for breakfast and I agreed, because I haven’t cooked at all since I started making money. Once I could afford to pay Davis the salary he deserved and could scoop him up from another firm, I had a driver, a personal trainer, and a chef. It hurt to bake and cook. There were too many memories attached to being in the kitchen - memories of both my sweet grandmother and the only boy to ever break my heart.
Dressed for the day, still shocked over my new hair, I go into the kitchen and see that Annie had joined this morning’s festivities. It’s a surprise, albeit a pleasant one. She must be able to read the shock on my face, though.
“You forgot about this morning, didn’t you?” She hands me a cup of to-go coffee. I may have no idea how she knew to come, but since she brought coffee along, I’m extremely grateful that she’s here.
I smile at her. “Let me guess. I asked you over for breakfast.” She nods. “Evidently I’m resorting back to my old ways - in more ways than one.”
“Your hair looks amazing.”
“I’ll take the credit for that,” Davis butts in.
“So, what are we having this morning?” Annie asks. “I’ve got Ronnie watching the café, which I’m not too excited about, but I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to come over and have you feed me.”
“Beignets,” Ollie grunts from his chair.
“I need to make sure I have all of the ingredients,” I tell him. The only way I have everything is if Lulu had it. I’ve only been going to the grocery store for wine, cheese, and fruit. The essentials.
“You do. Went to the store this mornin’ for you.”
I look at him, trying to figure out what game he’s playing, but I can’t look too long. Those feelings start to creep in every time I do, and I don’t want them.
“Okay then.”
“I can’t wait to see this train wreck,” Davis says.
“I happen to be one of the best bakers in Bellemere,” I tell him.
“Bitch, please. I’ve never even seen you in a kitchen. Oh,” he adds on. “Except that one time you had to fire your chef because she was stealing from you.”
“She’s not lyin’, Davis. She learned from the best,” Oliver says.
“What exactly is a beignet?” Davis has probably never even heard the word before. He’s never been in the south.
“The best shit you’ll ever eat.”
“What Bishop means,” I tell Davis, “is that it’s a fried piece of dough that’s sprinkled with powdered sugar.”
“Like I said, good shit.”
“Need help?” Annie offers.
“No, ma’am. You sit and enjoy a rare morning off. I got this.”
Annie and Oliver sit close and talk, obviously enjoying some much-needed sibling time. I could stand in the archway between the dining area and cooking area and watch them all day, but these beignets aren’t going to make themselves.
Everything I need is spread out on my counter. He got all the ingredients and even laid out all the mixing bowls and measuring cups I need. Ollie remembered all the details, right down to my favorite spoon. My belly gets tight at the sight. Ollie remembers this as much as I do. It saddens me that this is the first time I’ll be baking in this kitchen without my Lulu, but I can feel her. Her presence is all over the house. I miss her terribly, more than I could ever put into words, but being here, in her home, makes the loss a bit easier to take.
As soon as I sprinkle the flour on the butcher block counter, I can hear her voice. “The ingredients don’t matter, Viv, as much as the feelings you put into your baking. Think about who you’re making your treats for. Think about how you feel about them. Let that love come through your hands, through your fingertips. Let them know you’re baking from your heart.” She’d smile and her eyes would grow soft. “That’s how I caught your pop, all those years ago. I poured my heart into every single one of the peanut butter cookies I’d bake for him.”
As I mix the dough, I can picture her standing next to me, telling me stories about her and Pop, asking me about Ollie. I can see her hands, getting older as time went on, mixing, cutting, sprinkling sugar on top of our fried pieces of dough. When it got to be too much for her hands, when her arthritis flared up, I’d take over the kneading, following her directions and getting lost in her stories.
“Need help?”
I gasp at the feel of Ollie’s hands on either side of my waist, his voice in my ear.
“What are you doing?” I put my hands on the counter. All those shots I did last night must be catching up with me because I feel dizzy and I’m having trouble supporting myself.
“I can’t help it, Viv. Seein’ you in here, bakin’, it’s doin’ somethin’ to me.”
My stomach clenches and heat spreads through my limbs.
Damn hangover.
I’m a terrible liar, even when I’m lying to myself. It’s got nothing to do with my hangover and everything to do with the feel of Ollie’s chest against my back, his thumbs tracing patterns against the exposed skin on my belly, his warm breath on my neck.
“Turn around, Princess.”
I don’t move. I’m frozen. Terrified that if I do, I’ll never be able to resist him.
“Vivienne, turn around and look at me.” His voice is stern, commanding. I don’t want to do it, but I can’t help myself. As soon as I turn, the commanding tone is gone, replaced by a gruff softness that I don’t think I’ve heard from him before. “Means a whole lot that you’re doin’ this for me. I know it can’t be easy, bein’ in here, bakin’ somethin’ that was special to you and Mrs. Tallulah. I’ll have to find a way to repay you.”
Before I can even begin to form a response, he takes my cheeks in his hand and kisses my forehead, lingering for several seconds.
Lingering just long enough for me to wish he’d move his mouth to mine.
As soon as I think that I’m ready for a kiss, he lets go and rejoins Davis and his sister in the dining area.
Once again, I’m forced to grab the counter so I don’t hit the floor.
Ten
Bishop
I wanted to stay in that kitchen. Sitting around that table, Viv next to me, she and Annie talking about baking, my mind was at peace.
My demons were quiet.
She’s pulling me back in. I feel it every damn day. Today was the worst. Don’t know if it was her brown hair reminding me of the Vivi I used to love, or the beignets I haven’t let myself taste since she left me without a word, but those old feelings started churning in my gut again. Cornering her in the kitchen wasn’t smart, but I had to see if she felt anything. If she feels anything for me anymore. What we had was a long time ago.
But fuck if she wasn’t just as affected as I was.
Question is, do I do anything about it or let it go? How long until she hauls ass back to New York, forgetting Bellemere ever existed, just like she did before?
Pushing all those thoughts out of my mind, I focus on the work that has to be done around this place. It’s always something. Animals need tending, the house has a problem that Sammy can’t fix anymore, my momma needs me. It doesn’t stop. Sammy tries to help me, but there’s only so much he can do these days. I let him tend to Momma – he’s always been better with her anyway. She’s been so down since Dad died and since Sammy’s accident. She’s a shell of the woman she once was. She used to be a vibrant woman with two wild boys and a husband that kept her running. Now I don’t see any of that in her anymore. Her light’s gone. Her boys are both home which has to count for something, but we’re both broken, one physically and the other mentally, and she knows that neither of us can be fixed.
“How was breakfast?”
“How’d you know about that?” I ask my brother. Can’t believe he snuck up on me. Used to be impossible.
Sammy’s got a grin spread across his face that I’d like to punch off, but I shove my hands in my pocket and listen to see how he found out. “Went to Annie’s for breakfast, but for the first time since she bought the place, she wasn’t there. Doesn’t take much to get Ronnie to talk.”
Guess the whole damn town knows now. “Don’t know why she keeps him around.”
“Agree with you on that, brother, but you didn’t answer my question.”
He won’t stop until I tell him something. He’s still just as annoying as when we were kids. “It was fine.”
“That all you’ve got to say?”
“Yep.”
“What’d she make you?”
“Beignets.”
“Damn. Breakin’ out the big guns. That all you got?” He wags his eyebrows up and down and looks like an idiot.
“Got coffee, too.”
“Not what I meant.”
“Know that,” I answer as I walk away.
“She’d be good for you,” he calls after me.
For once, I’m glad he’s in that wheelchair so he can’t follow behind me.
I’m late walking the fence line. It’s the easiest part of my work here, mundane, but it has to be done every day. Best part about it is my view next door. Ace playing in the backyard, Viv in the kitchen, laughing and talking with Annie. It’s like time’s stopped, seeing the two of them together again. Annie needs someone to take her mind off the shit she has to deal with and I think Viv’s just the person to do it. Annie’s been dealt a rough hand, but she’s one of the strongest people I know. I don’t know how she let that fuck of an ex-husband walk all over her and break her heart, but she’s getting better every day. Maybe Vivi being back will be good for her. Annie needs a woman in her life besides my mother. Never really let anyone else in after Vivi left; she didn’t like the way she left any more than I did, but Annie has a good heart. She’ll let the hurt go and get the friendship back. It’ll be good for the both of them.
I don’t know if I can let it go.
Memories of our past saved me, over and over, but I don’t think I can let it go.
I stop in my tracks and watch the two of them until I see them hug and watch my sister leave the house. Viv smiles and wraps her arms around Davis’ neck, and I can see her going on and on about something. I wish I knew what she was so excited about.
I wish I could put that look on her face.
Time for gawking is over. I pull my eyes away from her window and keep walking, my gaze drifting to the area behind the property where the bodies are being dumped.
This shit is driving me crazy. Taylor pulled me in for a reason, but he’s not giving me anything to work with. I can’t sit on my hands and wait for him or his officers to finally get a break in the case and have some suspects. I need them to get off their asses and figure this out. I can’t do much until he’s got someone in custody. That’s where all my years of special training come in. Can’t interrogate suspects if they don’t have anybody for me to question.
Frustration burning in my veins, I finish up my walk and head over to the barn. The horses have been fed and watered this morning – that’s one thing Sam can still help with – but the roof needs patching after the last big storm that rolled through. It’s too hot to fuck with it today, but it’ll keep my mind off the murders. Off Viv.
It doesn’t take long, being up there with the sun beating down on me, before I’m delirious from the heat, my mind off the things happening here, but going to much darker places. The places of my past.
The places my demons were born.
I could have done more. There had to be something, anything, I could have done differently to keep everyone safe.
To keep everyone alive.
The screams that keep me awake at night are rushing through my head, seeping into each dark corner, and I start to get dizzy. Nausea hits me and I start to panic.
Fuck. I shouldn’t be up here. It’s hard enough dealing with this when I’m on the ground, in the dark, at night, but up here…
Panic seizes me and I sit down, hang my head between my bent knees and try to get my breathing under control. But I can’t. The voices – the ones that tell me how bad I fucked up – are playing on a loop, mixed with the screams. I squeeze my head between my hands, gripping tightly, pulling at my hair, begging it all to go away. The more I beg, the louder they get. I rock back and forth on my heels. All I have to do is jump, and all the screams will stop. The voices will be quiet.
The demons will finally die.
“Oliver Bishop, you get off that roof. Have you lost your mind?”
My eyes snap open at the sound of her voice. I look down and see her, hand on her hip, sassy as all get out. It takes me a minute to realize she’s actually here. I’m not just imagining her like I did back then.
“Get down from there and come get some of this lemonade.”
Fuck, but she sounds like my Viv. I can’t help but smile, even though my chest hurts. “You think just because you have your old hair again you can tell me what to do?”
Even in this heat, I can see her blush. “You’re going to get heat stroke. Get off that roof and come over. I’ll fix you some lunch.”
Here she is, saving me from the demons again, and she has no idea.
“Breakfast and lunch? What’s gotten into you?” She bites on that bottom lip but doesn’t say anything. “Give me a minute and I will.”
“No indeed. I’m not leaving you. What if you pass out? What if you fall?”
“You gonna catch me, Princess?”
She smiles. “Quit messin’ around, Bishop, and get down here.” Her voice has gone from bossy to sweet. I can’t help but do what she says. I’ve never been too good at resisting her.
And it’s getting harder and harder to do, the longer she’s around.
I climb down the ladder and take the cool glass of lemonade from her. Her smile lights up her entire face, like me taking the drink made her fucking day.
“Can’t boss me around anymore, Viv,” I say after I gulp down the whole glass. “Things have changed since the last time you were runnin’ around this place.”
Her back stiffens. “I can’t have you dying of a heat stroke, Bishop. Who would help me with the house then?”
I want to tell her to drop the ‘Bishop’ bullshit, but I hand the glass back to her instead and we walk wordlessly back to her house. I want to go to the backyard and spend some time with Ace, but I’m more interested in knowing why she’s offering to feed me twice in one day.
“You gonna clue me in on why you’re butterin’ me up with all this food?” The table is set and she’s got different kinds of sandwiches loaded up on one of Mrs. Tallulah’s old silver platters. I know good and well that all this wasn’t in her pantry before, so Davis must have gone to the store for her.
“We have a lot to discuss.” This is clearly New York Viv, all business. The Vivi I sat in the kitchen with this morning and ate breakfast with is gone.
“Do we?” I don’t like the tone she’s taking with me. I’m not some asshole from her company she can bark demands at or expect me to jump at her command.
“We have a house to fix.”
“We don’t have anything to fix. If I recall, you have a house to repair, I’m here to help if and when you need me.” She hasn’t done a thing since she got here except for setup her office, so she has no idea what she needs and what she doesn’t need. Mrs. Tallulah, though, let me know exactly what repairs need to be done. I already did minor things around this place, but there’s still a lot to tackle.
“I have no idea what to do. Lulu said in her letter that you would help me.”
I nod at the table. “These sandwiches your way of bribin’ me?”
“Yes.”
There’s the tiniest bit of shake in her voice. I take advantage of the sound – I’m very familiar with it. I used to hear it every damn day when I was younger. Leaning in a tiny bit closer, I drop my voice. “It’ll take more than some sandwiches to get me to do what you want, Vivi.”
In true Vivienne fashion, she gets up from the table and busies herself, wiping away at some nonexistent crumbs on the counter. I forget all about the food in front of me and follow behind her.
“You didn’t become as successful as you are by backin’ away. I know you don’t pull that in New York. You just do it around me?” She stays quiet, so I move in closer. I don’t know why, but I can’t help myself. “Do I make you nervous? You scared things might pick up where they left off?”
I feel a shaky inhale and when she turns around, she looks like she’s ready to breathe fire. “What? Broken in a hospital bed and you nowhere to be found? I’d rather not.”
She’s got it all wrong. I don’t know what warped version of things she’s got floating around in her head, but that bullshit she just spewed isn’t it. “Viv—” I start, but she puts her hand up.
“I’m not going there with you. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. Are you willing to help me or not?”
She wants to be cold, I can be cold, too. At least for now, but we’ll be having that conversation again. Soon. “The porch has some boards that need changin’, the railin’ is half rotten, and the roof needs some repair work. There’s some water damage in the master bath. That’ll be the biggest job and the most time consumin’. Any other help on my end would be changes you want to make to the layout of the house. If you need me, you just gotta ask. Let me know when you want me to start work.”
I grab some sandwiches and make my way out the other side of the kitchen to spend some time with Ace in the backyard. Viv’s smart enough to know not to follow me, but I can sense her in the kitchen window, keeping an eye on us. I run through my commands and Ace is like a champ, never missing a beat. I let her in the house when we’re done, knowing Viv will reward her with plenty of treats. I should get back on the roof of the barn and finish what I started but decide it’s better to go home and grab a beer instead. My day is shot, thanks to that little lunch interaction with Viv.
_____
A low whistle breaks me out of my spell. I slide the picture back on the bookshelf and turn around to see Taylor in my doorway, gawking.
“Who let you in here?” I don’t know why I ask. Only people that know I live in here are Sammy, my mom, and Annie. This time of night, it had to be Sammy, sitting and drinking on the porch.
“Nice digs you got here. You do this yourself?”
I take a drag off my cigarette, the nicotine not doing much to calm me. The sip of whisky, though, is doing a damn good job. Didn’t take long for me to make the switch from beer to something stronger. Beer just wasn’t cutting it tonight. “Yep.”
“Why here?”
“Why not?” I’m not in the mood for twenty questions. Not after the day I had. I kept waiting for Vivienne to come around, apologize for the way things ended, hell, even to argue with me some more, but the later it got, the more obvious it was that she wasn’t coming around. It was a good reminder that she’s not the same girl she was.
“You gonna fix up the outside so it looks like it’s fit to live in?” Taylor asks.
“You gonna tell me why you’re here, askin’ me all these damn questions?”
“Didn’t see you at the diner this morning.”
“Wasn’t there.”
“Word is, you were over at Vivienne’s for breakfast.”
“What the fuck does that matter?”
“Everybody around here says you two used to be an item.”
“Old news, Taylor.”
“Seems to me, especially how you two are around each other, history might be repeating itself.”
“Fuck off.”
“Whoa,” he says, putting his hands up in a defensive motion. He grabs a beer from the fridge and makes himself at home. “Just callin’ it how I see it.”
“No wonder you don’t have a suspect yet. Your skills are shit. I’m not goin’ there again.” I know it’s a lie as soon as I say the words. I want to go there again, even though I know it’ll end up as bad as it did the first time.
He nods his head to my pack of cigarettes. I rarely touch the things, but sometimes, like tonight, I can’t help it. “You mind?”
“Knock yourself out.”
I light another one when he does, and we sit, smoking and drinking in silence. “You gonna tell me what happened between you two?”
“You didn’t get the story from all the town gossips?”
“Rather hear it from you.”
Must be the whisky talking but why the fuck not. “She was it for me. She was the one.” I can’t bring myself to say much more.
“And?” he prompts.
“And we got into it one night over some stupid teenage shit. I slept with someone before the two of us got together, but I lied to her about it. Went to a graduation party and Denise Comeaux had to open her big fuckin’ mouth and tell Viv about us. We got into a huge fight in front of everyone and left the party. Got in a bad accident that left her in a coma. I headed off to join the Navy before she woke up. Didn’t want to leave her but didn’t have a choice.”
“Didn’t make up after the fight?”
I stub my cigarette out and down the rest of my drink. “Never got a chance to. She didn’t want to see me again. By the time I made it back here, she was gone. Cut off ties with everyone and everything.”
“Were you it for her?”
“Huh?”
“You said she was it for you. Were you it for her?”
I think about our past. Every minute of it is etched in my brain. Seared into my soul. “I thought I was. Guess I was wrong.”
“I’m callin’ bullshit.”
“Don’t know if you have that right.” I get up from the couch and pour myself another drink, even though I shouldn’t. Getting drunk makes for a sleepless night. “You weren’t here to see the aftermath.”
“You thought about talking about that with her?”
I laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about it. “That Viv is gone. There’s a whole different person in her place. Not sure I want to go there.” Another lie.
“Mind if I do?”
He’s back against the wall, my arm across his throat, calling my name and slapping at my side before I even realize what I’ve done. Fuck. Pinning the Sheriff against the wall isn’t smart.
“Shit. Sorry.”
He shakes it off and walks over to his beer. “Might want to rethink going there. Don’t think you would have done that if the feelings were gone.”
“Never said they were gone. That’s a fuckload of complication that I don’t know if I can deal with right now.”
“Might make things uncomplicated. You never know.”
“She might leave again.” Makes me sound like a pussy, but it’s the truth. Once was hard enough.
“Might not. Sounds like you two have a lot to talk about.”
This is getting old. I don’t even know how we got started on this in the first place. “Is there a reason for all this? Why are you even here?”
“I have a meeting in the morning with the medical examiner. Thought you might want to tag along.”
“Count me in.”