“Are you? Letting this woman into our shop,” he grumbled, stumbling left and right.

“It seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Loretta remarked. “When you’re ready to sell this place, give me a call. In the meantime, stay away from my daughter.” She stormed off, leaving me to deal with the mess that was my life.

“Bitch,” Dad muttered, before looking my way. “I need you to get groceries,” he ordered before turning to walk back to his place. “And more whiskey.”

*

I hated the grocery store because there were always people inside strolling around like they had no damn better place to be. As I turned down the aisle to go grab some peanut butter, I paused when I saw Grace and felt my chest tighten.

I should’ve looked away, but I didn’t…I couldn’t.

She walked around nervously as people stopped her to speak at almost every turn. It was almost as if they didn’t see her discomfort, or they saw it and just didn’t care about her feelings.

She spoke with complete poise, hugging each person tightly and giving them the biggest smiles known to mankind, but those weren’t the traits I noticed. I took note of her body language and the way her movements told her truths. Her shoulders rounded forward, her fingers tapped rapidly against her shopping cart, and her big smile was more forced than I’d ever known a smile could be.

When she’d hug one person goodbye, another set of nosy townspeople would stop her. The questions they asked her were so insulting and invasive, but Grace handled them very well—better than I would’ve.

She lived up to her name and the royal role she played.

After she left their side, I’d hear the individuals’ nasty remarks, judgments, and lies.

It took everything inside me not to attack each person in that store. Maybe my father and I deserved the rude remarks. Maybe we made ourselves so dark and mean that the ugliness from the town was earned, but Grace?

She hadn’t done a thing wrong.

I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. I didn’t know how to start conversations, especially with her, but still, I wanted to try.

“I’m shocked to see you’re not buying any eggs,” I said, walking up behind her in the frozen food aisle. Then I realized what a cheesy and corny comment that was for me to make. Just do better, Jackson.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to face me with a tub of ice cream in her hands. “Jesus, Jackson, you scared me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

She smiled, and I was pleased it wasn’t her forced smile.

Why was I pleased?

I shouldn’t have cared.

But still…she smiled, and I took note of it.

“No, not your fault. It’s good to see you. I was actually thinking about you today. I saw you reading This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab a few weeks back so I picked up a copy. It was so, so amazing.”

“Wait until you read the second book in the series, The Dark Duet. It’s one of my favorites.”

“It kind of shocks me that you love young adult so much,” she confessed. “I just didn’t picture that as your type of read.”

“What did you picture?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Horror.”

She smiled, I smirked, and then we stood awkwardly in silence.

“Oh!” She cleared her throat and rocked back and forth on her heels a little. “I forgot to tell you—I learned how I like my eggs.”

“Oh? And how is that?”

“In cake form.”

I laughed.

“Gah, I like when you do things like that,” she told me.

“Do what?”

“Laugh, smile, smirk—anything but frown.”

I didn’t reply, but I liked how she made me laugh, smile, and smirk.

“Your mom stopped by the shop to have a little chat with me,” I told her, and she instantly cringed.

“Oh gosh, I have no clue what she said to you, but since I know my mother, I’m guessing I owe you an apology.”

“It’s fine. She’s just a bit protective of you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did she threaten you?”

“Only four or five times.”

“Wow, sounds like she took it easy on you,” she joked.

“Maybe with old age, she’s becoming a softy,” I replied.

Just then, a person walked by and made a crude remark about the two of us being seen together. I watched as Grace tensed up a bit.

“I’ve heard people talking about you, about your relationship with your husband,” I remarked.

She nodded. “Outing my cheating husband didn’t bring me the best attention. My mama ripped me a new one, claiming I acted in such a disgraceful manner. Now the nosy people are just loud and looking for more dirt. I didn’t really think it through, I guess. I was just…I don’t know, living in the moment.”

“Sometimes you have to do that.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t help that I was recently caught leaving your place, and now they think you and I are…” Her words faded away and her cheeks reddened. “Doing what we’re doing.”

“Does it bother you? Them knowing?” I asked.

“Not because it’s about us. It just bothers me that people have no tact at all. Now they have made up the idea in their minds that Finn and I were both unfaithful to one another, and they love to talk about it. They act like I can’t hear their nasty comments when I walk away, but I can.”

“Yeah, you always do.”

“You know what’s worse, though? When they have the nerve to say it straight to my face. Just earlier today, a woman said to me, ‘You know, honey, maybe God would bless you with a child if you went back to your husband and stopped sleeping with bad seeds.’ Can you believe that? Right to my face, even after I made it clear that Finn got Autumn pregnant! But all she heard was that I was sleeping with you, and she ran with that.”

“I hate people,” I blurted out, feeling anger building inside me for her.

How could someone say that to her?

How could people be so cruel?

Then I thought of all the nasty things I’d said to her when she first came into town. I was no better than the rest of them.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll get over it. I mean, it could be worse—I could be them, after all.” She smiled, and it was beautiful. “They call you the fixer, you know.”

“The what?”

“The fixer, and it’s not just because you fix cars.”

I cocked an eyebrow. That particular nickname hadn’t made its way back to me. “Please, tell me more.”

“The rumor is that after women sleep with you, they fix the issues in their lives, be it relationships, or job issues, or self-esteem. It’s like your sexual prowess has the ability to fix any and every problem known to mankind.”

“Not all superheroes wear capes.” I smirked. “I’m just out here trying to make Chester the best town it can be, one vagina at a time.”

“Well, I’ll tell you this, if we keep up the wango tango, my life should be fixed in a few weeks at the latest.” She grinned, biting her bottom lip.

God, she was breathtaking, and she didn’t even know it.

“I’ll wango your tango for the next week straight to help you out.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she warned.

“Trust me, princess,” I whispered, leaning in close, “I always keep my promises.”

I loved the way her body reacted when I moved in closer. Then I remembered where we were, and I knew that touching her, even if ever so lightly, was a no-go.

She bit her bottom lip and looked up toward a few people staring our way. It was as if we were everyone’s favorite reality show. “I bet you they’re having a field day with us just talking right now.”

“I can go,” I said quickly, not wanting to add to her torture.

“No, no. I mean, we’re already sleeping together, right? Plus, I’m tired of always changing my life to try to fit into others’ expectations.”

“Another Grace discovery?” I asked.

“Turns out it’s kind of fun learning who you are. If they want to gossip, they can, but I’m not going to stop talking to you or be ashamed when I know we’re just two grown-ups doing grown-up things. Might as well give the people more of a story to make up.”

“Careful,” I warned, “once you start hanging out with the black sheep of the town, your wool starts shifting to a darker shade.”

“My wool has already been changing. I’ll take my chances talking to you. Is this what it’s been like for you, though? Do you always get their harsh looks?”

“Yeah, but you get used to it. It only truly bothers me a few times.”

“When’s that?”

“When they talk about my father, or even worse, my mother.”

She gave me those gentle eyes, and I had to fight to keep from losing myself in them.

“I think I owe you an apology,” she said, looking right at me. “Before we even met, I had these ideas of the person you were. I was afraid of you because of the rumors people around town spread. I heard these horror stories about you and your father, and I just feel awful that I believed them.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I told her. “No apologies needed. I’m sure some of the stuff you’ve heard is true. Plus, I’m sure you remember our first few meetings—I can be an asshole.”

“Yes, but a nice asshole,” she remarked.

“That’s not a thing.”