Seven Years

Hell, unless it was for family.”

Cancer? I knew Charlie hadn’t been feeling well lately, but I had no idea how serious his condition was. “Do you know what kind of cancer? How long has this been going on?”

She pursed her lips. “I reckon a year or two, maybe more. He mentioned it to Daryl once but didn’t say what kind, just that he was getting those treatments. Charles told us his hair was thinning and he bought himself one of those rugs.” She chuckled and sprayed a leaf into the grass. “Ugliest damned thing I ever saw.”

“What hospital?”

“What do I look like, the news channel? I just saw the ambulance come in and drive off. Haven’t seen him since.”

When I got back to my car, I turned down an old Foreigner song and dropped my head against the steering wheel. “Cancer,” I whispered. Had I known, I would have visited him, brought over dinner, and helped Charlie out with any errands he needed done. We were probably stressing him out with work- related calls when he needed someone to take care of him. Charlie didn’t have a family to look after him, and was only in his late fifties.

The rest of the afternoon, I ran errands that were long overdue, including a visit to my mom’s house to check her mail and make sure her bills were taken care of.

I shivered and slid the thermostat up to eighty. No sense in having cold air blowing in an empty house. I grabbed a small bag for Maizy and then stuffed a few of Mom’s clothes into a separate bag. I wasn’t about to prepare for the worst, even though I sat quietly in her bedroom, staring at a picture of us on her dresser.

I packed her root touch-up because she dyed her hair blond and the last time I talked with her, she had mentioned her roots were showing her age again. I didn’t know what she was talking about. She could let her hair go grey and she’d still be the prettiest woman I knew.

The only thing that had changed was I could no longer look forward to looking like her when I grew up.

Chapter 20

“Journey? They’re really breaking out the oldies,” I said with a nostalgic smile. Classic rock still dominated the playlist, and not much had been upgraded at The Pit since my last visit. Best barbecue joint in town and it hadn’t changed in all these years. The walls were the color of the sauce and still decorated with wooden wagon wheels, knotted ropes, and antlers from a dead animal. I never liked staring at animal parts nailed on a wall because the last thing I wanted was to be reminded of what I was actually eating.

Austin lifted the yellow plates off the tray and set them on the wooden table. I had sent him on a mission to order my dinner because I was curious if he would remember what I liked.

“I don’t know how you can eat that,” he remarked, wrinkling his nose at my plate.

I popped the fried okra in my mouth and grinned. “Because okra is good for you.”

“Deep fried?”

It was bustling in here. The families had already vacated and the atmosphere changed, becoming more rowdy. Several groups of single teenage girls sat in clusters while the guys spun around in their seats, whistling and flirting with them.

Some things never change.

I took a bite of my rib and wiped my hands on the paper towels they put on the table. I tapped my finger against the edge of my plate, looking around the room.

“Something wrong with your food?” he asked, eyeing my hand.

Austin had rolled his short sleeves over his shoulders because the ceiling fans did nothing to cool things down. A few of the women were gawking at him, and the tats were working in his favor.

“I hope you know all the women in here are sizing you up for dessert,” I pointed out while sipping my draft.

Austin laced his fingers together with a lazy grin spreading across his face. “I hadn’t noticed.”

On cue, a woman’s black heels clicked on the floor and stopped at our table, just to my left.

“Well, well, Austin Cole. Been a long time since I last saw you, honey. I hardly recognized you with all the tattoos.”

There was a soft vibrato in her voice—the kind a woman uses for dirty talk, which must have been on her mind by the way she slowly twirled her necklace between her fingers. I didn’t have a clue who she was, but I wondered if the two of them had been intimate, because his eyes slid up her body and met with hers as if he were remembering something.

“Life’s treating you good, Bonnie. You still live around here?”

She jutted her hip in the painted-on jeans that threatened to rip apart if she bent over.

“Mmmhmm. Just up the road a ways. Where you been hiding all these years?”

I began to feel invisible, because Bonnie was hitting on Austin like I was nothing more than restaurant decor. It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but I stopped eating and looked out the window.

“Had to get away and live a little,” he answered.

“I’d love to hear all about it,” she said with a lift in her voice. “I remember when you used to come in here with those troublemakers back in high school. Shoot, I can’t even remember their names anymore.”

And then, all of a sudden, Austin’s hand slid across the table and rested on mine. He still kept his eyes on hers, engaged in conversation, but he held my hand and stroked my fingers with his thumb. A flush of heat touched my cheeks and I turned to look at Bonnie and caught her smoky eyes staring at our hands.

“Did you ever settle down?” he asked. “Kids?”

Which threw a wet towel on her parade of whoredom. “I married a few times, but I just got the one kid. He’s with his grandma now. You got kids?”

“Seven,” Austin replied with a straight face.

“Lord have mercy, you’re kidding me!” She looked horrified.

“Always wanted a football team,” he said with a wink. “Just divorced the wife, so I’m looking for someone to fill that spot and help me achieve my dream. Are you a team player, Bonnie?”

I spit out my beer and quickly set my glass down before I spilled it.

“Good running into you, Austin. I’ve heard of sacking the quarterback, but I think that’s a little bit much for me. Good luck at the playoffs,” she said, clearly not amused.

Bonnie sauntered off and the heat from Austin’s hand was the only thing that registered in my brain. I don’t even think I heard the music playing until Austin sat back in his seat, shaking his head at Bonnie as she strutted her stuff right out the door.

I chewed off a few bites of my rib and wiped my fingers with the paper towel again, deciding it was better not to ask him why he’d held my hand. Obviously, he wanted Bonnie to think he was taken so she’d clear out. Austin resumed devouring his rack of ribs. Except men didn’t hold theirs daintily like women did, using their fingertips. He held them caveman style.

Maybe it was strategic so he could sexily turn up his hand and slowly suck off the sauce from his thumb.

Or maybe I had an overactive imagination and shouldn’t have been noticing such a thing.

“Seven?” I asked.

His black lashes winked over his wolfish blue eyes. “Wishful thinking.”

I was seconds away from bringing up the topic about my boss when I remembered April sitting in a pile of taffy. A laugh began to bubble. Then there was my mother and sister being kidnapped, staying in a house full of strange men, realizing I was a Shifter (and going into heat, no less), discovering my brother was a murder victim, and then my father being a criminal on the run for diamond theft.

My unbelievable life finally erupted into a burst of maniacal laughter. It graduated only briefly to the infamous Beaker laugh before tapering off into tears. Austin watched me with apprehension, because nothing was funny. He must have sensed it was one of those moments when a person has a very public display of a nervous breakdown. A few people turned to look, but he ignored them.