Now, here she was in Fallport, avoiding Myrna but using her for safety. She should have called her aunt, but she hadn’t wanted Myrna to feel the need to rush home and take care of her. She wasn’t a child and could take care of herself, even if that meant she had to run from a crazy stalker.
April parked near the library and decided to walk around town. The trees were fuller, but everything else seemed the same. Across the center square, she spied the bowling alley, which brought a smile to her lips. She spent many nights there with Myrna, watching her aunt’s team lose weekly. They couldn’t bowl worth crap, but they enjoyed the heck out of the activity. It was where April learned to have fun, real fun. Not the chaotic ride her mom took her on when an idea struck.
April slowed as she passed by On the Rocks, the bar on the square. How would it feel to walk in there now? The last time she’d been in that place, she’d been way too young to drink, but now she was older, everything was different. A memory of Myrna and her friends sitting around a high-top table, laughter spilling out like water as they tilted their heads back and drank from those small glasses, wove through her. Now she knew what those glasses were and what had most likely been in them. Myrna had never been a mean drunk, but she’d loved her tequila and that bar.
Life with Myrna had been good, a little chaotic, but better than living with her mother. Myrna may have taken her to bars and kept her out late, but her mother had been a hurricane compared to the small squalls created by Myrna’s late nights and good times.
Being dragged out of bed at two in the morning to watch shooting stars had been fun the first few times her mother had done it. But midnight runs to watch the stars, nighttime dolphin swims, hikes at four in the morning, and kayak trips under the moon happened so often it had made life difficult. Then there were the late nights circling city blocks to find a dealer to make Mom feel even. April hadn’t known what her mother meant by “even,” but she’d learned her mother needed something to calm down.
April loved her mother but had tired of the chaos. She’d longed for the boring life her friends lived, where they were put to bed at eight or nine and woke up to the scent of bacon and eggs or even cereal poured into a bowl instead of the smell of pot and blow and maybe some strange man her mother decided to bring home.
At the time, the comfort of security had seemed like a far-off concept that only happened with Aunt Myrna. Knowing there would be a meal at the end of the day went a long way to bringing peace and hope. When her mom was around, she’d often been put to bed hungry and sent to school the next day just as hungry. She learned how to steal other kids’ food from their lockers.
Memories of love and lack filtered over her as she strolled down the street in the one place she’d always known safety. Myrna might be gone, but once again, she would save her.
She strolled past a bakery, and her stomach growled. She didn’t need sweets, not today. She liked planning when she would eat treats. Actually, she liked planning almost everything now. This trip to Fallport had been so last minute that it threw her off.
The scent of coffee hit, and she moaned. Sweets, she could pass by without looking back, but coffee had too strong of hooks into her. Someone passing by on her left shot her a strange look. Had she moaned too loudly?
As she approached the coffee shop, Grinders, she could make out a red and white sign in the window. She could work at a coffee shop. She had worked at one for four months in Phoenix and then two months in Oklahoma City. Plus, there’d been the six months they lived above that coffee shop in Canada. She’d learned how to make coffee then. The owners of that shop had practically adopted her, making sure she had food, clean clothes, and a safe place to go when her mom took off on long weekends.
The door opened, sending a fresh waft of coffee her way. She smiled, but the older gentleman who stepped out from the shop had a sour face like he’d been eating lemons every day for the last few decades. He tugged on his baseball cap and shot her a menacing gaze. She jerked back, wondering what was wrong with him.
“What are you staring at?” the man barked as he strolled past her.
Words hung in her throat. She’d remembered the people in this town being nice, but that man wasn’t kind. Maybe he’d had a bad day, or something else had gone wrong.
The door opened, and a woman stepped out. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Silas, you don’t have to leave that way.”
The older man threw his hands up but didn’t turn around. The woman rolled her eyes again, then spied April and pasted on a smile.
“Sorry about that. Someone caught him cheating at checkers, and they called him out for it. At least you missed the hullabaloo. They yelled at each other like cats at midnight in the alley.”
Had April heard this woman correctly? “Cheating at checkers. How is that even possible?”
“Trust me, Silas can find a way. So, would you like some coffee? I’m Steph.”
April pointed at the window sign. “Actually, I’d like a job.”
Steph’s eyebrows shot up, and her lips twisted into a broad smile. “Have you ever worked at a coffee shop?”
April nodded. “For a few months in Phoenix, then in Oklahoma. Also, I just rang people up there in California and didn’t make coffee.”
“Wow, that’s great. Come in, and let’s chat. The place is basically empty now that Silas has left.”
April followed Steph inside and paused, breathing in deeply, letting the delicious scent of coffee fill her. She turned to step deeper into the shop, but someone yanked open the door right behind her and rushed in, plowing into her back. Hands reached out to steady her. Shock pulsed through April.
“Mackenzie Dunham, what in the world is wrong with you?” Steph called out as her hands bracketed her face, emphasizing her shocked expression.
“Sorry, Steph.” The man’s hands were still on April’s waist when he turned her enough so she could see his face. Blue eyes, as clear as the waters in the Bahamas, stared back at her. His lips were full, his skin kissed by the sun, his hair a little unruly, and his whiskers more than a five o’clock shadow but less than a beard. He looked young but strong, with broad shoulders and muscles that felt like he worked out. April blinked up at him, thinking this was the type of man she needed in her life. She almost let out a bark of laughter. If life had taught her one thing, it was she didn’t need anyone.
“What do you need?” Steph barked, interrupting April’s musings about what she wanted to do with a guy like this.
“I’m so sorry.” The man held April’s gaze as his fingers trailed along her sides, almost like he didn’t want to let her go. Sparks like delicious warmth splintered from where he touched, sliding around her back to her spine. The warmth spread through her and her breath hitched. His eyes went wider, then his lips spread into a sultry smile.
“Mackenzie, what are you doing?” Steph asked, her voice rough as felt.
His hands dropped, and April jerked away, unsure what was happening.
“I’m fine,” she spat out, wishing she could just stand in place and watch this man instead of stepping away, putting distance between them.
The guy who’d run into her held up his hands and his eyes went wide. “Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you.” His voice was like dark chocolate, all smooth and rich. She wanted his touch back. When he’d let go, it felt like the warmth of a thousand suns had abandoned her, and all she had left was the cold, harsh reality of not knowing this guy. She shook her head. “Sorry. I was distracted. I’m fine.”