“Okay.”
He plugged his earbuds in and rested his head against the seat, closing his eyes.
He worked so hard. They’d never had another choice. Seeing him become such an incredible man after all they’d been through brought a swirl of pride to her chest.
She turned the radio on. The same band played that she’d heard in Bently’s truck.
After their lunch, he’d kept his distance—careful not to touch her unless he was helping her in and out of the truck. The unease was eating at her. She may not be able to repeat that incredible kiss, but she still wanted to remain his friend.
Something about the man tugged at her heart. His hidden scars only evident for those that knew what they looked like personally, those like herself. Belle might not have all he wanted, but she could offer him what he needed most—a friendship from someone who knew what it was like. She smiled as a plan took form in her mind.
***
An hour later, she walked into the sheriff’s office, cup of coffee in hand, and a box in the other. An officer came over to her with a blank stare and scowl on his face. “Bail bonds are one floor down.”
“I’m not here to post bonds. I’m here to see the sheriff.”
His gaze narrowed on the items in her hands before shifting back to her.
“Do you have an appointment, dear?” an elderly woman asked from a desk to her left.
Belle turned to the woman. “No. But would you mind telling him Belle is here to see him?”
The officer to her right scoffed. “Listen, lady, this is a place of work. What are you doing here?”
Who the fuck did this man think he was? Sneering at her like she was less than the dirt under his feet? She turned and eyed his name tag. “Officer Parsons, exactly what do you think I am doing here?”
His face reddened as Betsy spoke into an intercom.
“What are you doing here?” Parsons repeated.
A door opened and Bently’s surprised voice asked, “Belle?”
She turned from the officer and walked to greet Bently. She smiled. “I brought a peace offering.”
He ushered her into the office, closing the door after her. A beat-up antique of a wooden desk sat in the center. A small bookshelf lay against the wall in between several metal file stands. Warm sunlight filtered in through the large bay windows off to her left. A few plaques and commendations hung on the wall in the otherwise sparse room.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, taking a seat across from her at the desk.
She handed him the coffee and box of pastries with the yellow sticky note on top that read Cop food.
His eyes studied the note and a grin broke through the nervous air in the room. “Ahhh, she can be funny too.” He chuckled.
“Cops like donuts, right?”
“One assumption you got right about me.” He winked.
She relaxed into the chair across from him. “I just thought I’d return the favor. Remy told me which ones you liked.”
“Oh, great. Now I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I made it clear I needed a treat for my friend.” She waited for his reaction.
“Coffee was a good call. Thanks.” He sipped from the paper cup, his expression giving nothing away.
“I was wondering how the investigation over Charli was going? Have you seen her since?”
His brows drew together and his tone grew serious. “I can’t really share any details about an ongoing investigation with the public. I can assure you I take what happened very seriously. I don’t stand for women being hurt and the perp getting away with it.”
Something about the way he said it told her Bently Evans took those sorts of crimes personally. Why did he feel the need to be everyone’s knight in shining armor?
“As a friend, I can tell you she’s managing. Reed is coming home soon, and I think she’s just waiting to really fall apart until then.”
“He’s deployed, right?”
Bently nodded. “Army.”
“That’s got to be tough.” She looked down.
“How’s TJ?” Bently asked.
“I dropped TJ off at the Hope center you mentioned.”
“Oh yeah? I think he’ll like it there.”
“I wish he could make some friends. I’ve seen him with this one kid at school, but something about him is just . . . off.”
Bently squinted. “What do you mean?”
“Being around those types long enough, it becomes second nature to spot. You learn real quick to trust that gut feeling.”
His eyes darted to where she rubbed the small scar on her neck absentmindedly.
She dropped her palm to her lap. Questions reflected in his eyes, but he held back. Again.
“Tell me the guy that hurt you got what he deserved.”
Belle looked at her hands before focusing on him. “I think you know that in real life the bad guy doesn’t always get his deserved judgment.”
His gaze darkened. The silence between them was almost deafening, the air charged with warning.
“I’d better go.” She stood at the same time he did.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said, coming to her side and opening the door. “Thanks again for the coffee and donuts.”
She smiled and walked out on shaky legs, wishing she’d never known what his lips felt like on hers. Then she could pretend it wasn’t the most world-shattering experience she’d ever had. Then she wouldn’t be longing for his touch. Then she wouldn’t be disappointed with the reality that she’d never get to feel it again.
Chapter 17
Belle
“Take that!” TJ’s voice rose, waking Belle from her nap. She shifted the covers to glance at the clock. Five o’clock. She’d slept for two hours.
TJ’s laugh echoed up the stairs as she walked to the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth.
A low chuckle accompanied his. TJ has a friend over. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her sleep-mussed hair was wild. She wiped under her eye, erasing the last trace of makeup from her skin. Her finger pressed against the thin scar on her neck. Shame and helplessness washed over her like a rogue wave. Spinning,
