“It is, isn’t it?” Sorrow crumpled her napkin and dropped it onto her plate. Did she look disappointed, too? “Though I can’t imagine what Damien offered to convince them to sell us food from their own kitchens. ”
“What’d he offer?” Bear put down his coffee hard enough that some sloshed over the edge of the cup. “The guy offered not to kick their asses if they helped you. ”
Sorrow stood and patted her dad’s shoulder. “Easy there, cowboy. ” She met Billy’s eye. “I may not need to buy food, but if that other offer still stands…?”
“The freezer?” Something in Billy’s chest unclenched. “You bet. ”
She grabbed her purse from atop the bar. “It’s as good a day as any to spend a ridiculous amount of money on appliances. ”
Bear handed his daughter her coat. “You help her, Preston. Have her pick out a good one. ”
Billy helped her shrug into her layers. “I’m sure your daughter is perfectly capable of picking out her own appliances, but I’ll be happy to offer my help if she asks for it. ”
Was it his imagination, or was that a mischievous glance she just shot him? He resisted the urge to put his arm around her shoulders as they walked out to his SUV.
It was a long drive to Silver City. Forty-five minutes in which Billy would not notice the curve of Sorrow’s thigh on the seat next to him. To not savor the smell of her, something like vanilla and shampoo. To not allow his gaze to be pulled over and over again to the slash of sunlight that cut across her face, sparking her blond hair to a thousand shades of gold.
His mind went to Keri again, and he knew his usual grief, but this time it was cut with something else. He felt the sadness, but oddly, it didn’t sear through him like it usually did.
Was this him moving on? Because for the first time, he was glimpsing what it might be like to turn the page on that chapter of his life and step into another.
Was that what Keri would want him to do?
He stole a look at Sorrow. His heart was heavy, but something in his mind felt lighter than before. More open. He imagined it was hope. It was a heady feeling.
Sorrow was like those rays of early morning light that cut through the windshield, and he was a creature emerging from darkness, blinking at this new reality, feeling a tentative fascination.
She was so different from his late wife. Keri would never ride in the car with her shoes propped on the dash. She’d never sit with her face turned toward the sun. His wife had shied from the sun, slathered herself in sunscreen, worn designer hats.
But there was Sorrow, with a faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, wearing jeans, a T, and a flannel shirt layered overtop. Fitted and purple, it was definitely a women’s shirt, but it made him think how good she’d look wearing his flannel shirt. Romping around his apartment in his ancient red plaid. Wearing nothing else but her panties.
Damn.
He needed to stop thinking. He wasn’t ready for this.
Talking. Talking would stop this thinking. “We should be in Silver City by ten. Stroke of luck Damien knows so many people. Good thing I’m not competing with him,” he said, attempting a joke. “Money, charm, and powerful friends…a guy could get easily outmatched. ”
Sorrow gave him a blank look.
The line had been funny enough in his head. Hell, he needed to stop talking and thinking. He turned on the radio, and an old rock song filled the truck.
“Yeah,” she muttered, “Damien’s something else. ” She leaned forward, peering at the complicated police console. Her hair slipped from behind her ear, sending a waft of flowery shampoo scent his way.
He stared hard at the road. Maybe talking had been better.
He’d told himself he wasn’t interested. That he couldn’t allow himself to be interested. He’d sworn off relationships—he’d barely survived getting gutted by the last one. He wouldn’t survive another loss like that. Couldn’t.
But could he survive his current life? Going on like he’d been, closed to all but the most superficial of interactions.
He’d come to Sierra Falls, hoping to find peace in a small town. To find solace dealing with small things. But in the past weeks, he’d discovered the most peace while spending time with her.
He stole another glance. She was so different, so refreshing.
And so beautiful. Long hair tucked haphazardly behind her ear. Fresh, rosy cheeks. A love of life, a passion for food, and a smile ever on her face, even as she dealt with the most challenging of issues—finances, the lodge and tavern, her father.
She was just right.
But would a woman like that want a man like him? He felt like an old shell sometimes, but there Sorrow sat, a woman of appetites, fresh and ripe and…