Southern Storms Page 12
“I suppose you’re fine with strangers wandering into your house unwelcome then.”
“That’s not the same.”
“Wasn’t the land the house was built on there before you were born? Won’t it be there after the house comes down and you’re gone? But I guess people trespassing in your space is different because it’s yours and not mine.”
“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated,” I snapped, speaking firmly despite my nervousness.
I began to step forward to exit the field of flowers, and accidentally crushed a few daisies. He leaped toward me.
“Careful!” he shouted.
He bent down to the ground and began trying to repair the damage I’d caused. The grimace on his face turned into a full-blown frown as the daisies lay limp in his grip. His hands were so big it looked as if he were a giant playing with miniature florals. His lips moved slightly as he muttered something under his breath, but I couldn’t discern what he was saying.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” I stated, my heart still lodged in my throat from my nerves.
“Probably because I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“Right. Sorry. Also, I’m sorry about any damage I caused to your flowers.”
He mumbled beneath his breath—again. You know how there was Cesar Millan, the dog whisperer? Well, currently, I was dealing with Mr. Personality, the human whisperer—not because he had a profound way of understanding humans, but because all he did was freaking whisper.
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“Just go,” he stated, his voice low and controlled.
“No offense, but you have a terrible attitude.”
“No offense, but I don’t give two shits what you think about me.”
“Asshole,” I muttered.
“So you’ve heard.”
“Heard what?”
“About my role in this town’s fucked-up story,” he grumbled. “I’m the town asshole. Just living up to the part.”
“I can see you take it seriously.”
“I’m a professional.”
“Hopefully, you’re just a small part in this town’s story.”
“No small parts in a small town, just cliché small minds. I’m sure you’ll fit right in. Now, if you could do me the pleasure of getting the hell off my property, that would be grand.”
Wow.
Okay, Mr. Personality.
He took his role to heart, a total method actor—cool. I could get behind someone who took their acting career seriously, no big deal. And boy, was he good. He deserved an award for his performance. I believed every arrogant comment he dished out.
If Louise, Kate, and Mr. Personality were the highlights of this town, I was in for a treat.
He didn’t look back up at me. Those dark, mysterious eyes didn’t lock with mine again. He kept his stare on the daisies with such a scowl on his face one would have thought I’d stepped on his loved one and crushed them to death.
I muttered another apology with no response then began my trek back to the house—well, I tried to find my way back. When I ended up making a circle in the woods, I found myself back at the field of daisies. Mr. Personality was sitting in the middle of the field on the white painted bench, and he released a weighted sigh when he saw me.
“Go straight this way to my house. It will take you to Merry Road. Hopefully, you can figure out where you live when you get to a main road.”
“Right. Of course. Thank you.”
He didn’t say another word.
As I walked around the block to find my way back to my property, I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that Mr. Personality lived on a street called Merry. He was far from merry. Scrooge Avenue seemed much more fitting.
5
Jax
People were the worst.
Unfortunately, my day job required me to be in close contact with humans on a regular basis. I was the town’s one and only plumber, so needless to say, I spent a lot of time dealing with Havenbarrow’s shit. There were so many days I wished I would’ve become a writer, or a sculptor—or literally anything that involved as little human contact as possible. Oh, you need someone to sit on Mars for fifty years? No fucking problem, boss. Sign me up.
Hell, being a vet would’ve been better than this. At least then I would’ve been able to interact with cute pets while dealing with their dumbass owners who thought it was okay to feed their dogs wine because LOL YOLO.
Needless to say, I wasn’t a people person. I found them too people-y for my liking. I’d crossed paths with a lot of different types of individuals in my life and I had learned quickly that most of them weren’t for me. Therefore, finding a woman trespassing in my woods wasn’t the most exciting thing for me to experience yesterday afternoon. Even if she was beautiful, she was still, after all, human. Her beauty wasn’t enough to make me not care that she was on my property. I wanted from her the same thing I wanted from pretty much everyone else in town—to be left alone.