“I won’t. I promise.”
The older woman smiled indulgently at her great-grandson, and Shane followed her gaze as the kid grabbed up his second croissant and jumped off the gazebo to continue his study of the ant situation.
“He’s so like his mother,” she said quietly.
“Does she work here?” Shane had met Miss Callie’s daughter, Marybeth, the night before, but with Mackie hanging around, it wasn’t far off to assume the granddaughter was close by.
Miss Callie was silent for a few moments, fiddling with the mug in her hands. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “My granddaughter is a lost soul. Thank goodness Mackie has a wonderful father and the rest of us. It seems we all have crosses to bear.” Her smile slowly fell from her face, and, with a nod, she left him alone.
Shane enjoyed the remainder of his breakfast and made a note to compliment the chef, who he assumed was none other than Miss Callie. Mackie kept talking nonstop, and Shane didn’t have to do much other than grunt a yes or nod his head. The boy asked a lot of questions and seemed real interested in Shane’s tattoos. He told Shane his father had a bunch as well and that when he was old enough, he’d be getting one himself. He paused for a moment and glanced down at the flower bed. “Maybe I’ll get a great big ant on my arm.”
When he was ready to head out for the day, Mackie asked to see his new Harley, and Shane was more than happy to oblige. They gathered up the plates and took them inside, where Miss Callie was busy rolling out dough. She told them to leave the plates by the sink and got back to her task.
Mackie was a few feet ahead of him when he headed toward the foyer, keys in hand. His cell was in his back pocket along with his wallet, so he was pretty much set for the day. The sun was shining, and the thought of riding somewhere new gave him the sort of pleasure he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
Though any joy Shane felt fled as he took one step into the foyer and his gaze landed on the woman who stood just inside the B and B.
She wore a simple light-blue dress that hung a little looser than he remembered, and her dark hair hung in shimmery silken ropes around her shoulders, the ends curling a bit from the humidity. Her skin was pale and her lips were glossed over in light pink. She wore plain white flip-flops that didn’t exactly go with the dress, yet somehow, they worked.
An older lady stood beside her and looked up just then. She froze when she caught sight of Shane, at about the same time Mackie jumped up and down beside him.
“Miss Bobbi! Nana Callie said she’s making sugar pie tonight!”
Bobbi turned from lady she’d been speaking to, and time did that funny thing where it stopped still and nothing moved.
Shane exhaled slowly, because if he didn’t, he felt like his lungs would burst. He was aware of his heart beating heavy in chest, of all that pain and anguish and resentment bursting to life. That tight fist inside him had been loose, and now it flexed in anger. He went hot and then cold, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Her smile slowly faded when she caught sight of him. He was pretty sure the shock on her face was mirrored on his own. Her lips parted, but she didn’t say a word. She just stared across the foyer at him as if he were a ghost.
He hadn’t laid eyes on Bobbi in nearly three months, and it felt like he was staring at a stranger. There was nothing welcoming in her expression.
The woman beside Bobbi dropped her gaze from Shane and leaned closer. “That’s the man I was telling you about,” she whispered, though it was loud enough for him to hear. Her tone and words touched off something inside Shane, and he found himself walking toward them. He didn’t stop until he was a few inches from Bobbi and the stranger, who shrank from him like he was the plague.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said slowly, eyeing up the older woman. She straightened a bit and stood protectively at Bobbi’s side. “Since we’re going to be neighbors and all, I suppose it’s only right we know each other’s name.” He flashed a smile and held out his hand to the woman beside Bobbi. “I’m Shane.”
He didn’t look at Bobbi because he couldn’t.
The woman pursed her lips, and she glanced at his hand for a few moments before taking it and murmuring, “Coral Adelaide.” She threaded her arm through Bobbi’s and cleared her throat. The old gal had some guts, Shane thought. “This is Bobbi.”
He finally turned and settled on the woman who’d all but torn out his heart months ago. “Oh, Bobbi and I are already acquainted,” he replied, all pretense of being nice and neighborly long gone.
“Is that so?” Coral snuck a look toward Bobbi. Shane could see she was confused.
“It is,” he replied, jangling his keys. “On account of the fact that she’s my wife.”
He waited for it, and, after exactly one second, Coral Adelaide’s mouth dropped open. “Why that can’t be possible.” She turned to Bobbi. “You’re so refined, and he’s…” She swallowed as if her throat was filled with words she couldn’t get out. “He’s just not.”
He turned to Mackie. “Bud, I’m going to have to show you my bike another time. You should head out back to Nana Callie.”
Without another word, he moved past both women, and when he did, he inhaled that soft citrus scent Bobbi used for her hair. It was like a punch to the gut. He hopped onto his Harley and disappeared down a road he wasn’t sure he would take back at the end of the day.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, accelerating the machine between his legs when he took a turn that would take him along the river. It was hot as hell, his mood was shit, and it seemed he had a lot to think about.
Welcome to Belle Fucking Adair.
Chapter Five
It took some time, but eventually, the fog lifted and the roaring in her ears subsided. Coral stood in front of Bobbi, a stunned expression on her face, and if the situation weren’t so damn awful, she might have found it amusing. Coral Adelaide did not ru