Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I pulled Nolan’s hand up to my mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it. His skin was cold so I eased myself to my feet, ignoring the sting in my own hip, and then pulled him to a standing position. And for the life of me, I couldn’t release his hand after that. So I ignored the mixed messages I was sending him and held onto his hand as I grabbed the cage with my other hand.
And I didn’t release him until we’d made it all the way back to the truck.
Chapter Nine
Nolan
What the hell had I been thinking?
That was the question that kept going through my mind as I stared at the aisle full of bags and bags of dog food.
Grain-free.
Large breed.
Small chunks.
Beef flavored, chicken flavored, beef and chicken…the choices were endless.
“He says just get whatever,” I murmured to myself as I finally looked at the price tags and selected something halfway between the most and least expensive. After that, I picked the bag with a dog that looked most like Loki on the outside of it and began dragging the huge bags into the grocery cart.
It had been my idea to drive to town to grab the dog food after the guy who delivered all of the food and supplies for the center messed up and forgot to include the week’s supply of dog food. Since there hadn’t been enough left to feed the dogs their evening meal, I’d suggested to Dallas that we just buy enough to tide the dogs over until the guy brought a special shipment in a few days.
I hadn’t understood why Dallas had been so hesitant at first.
And I felt pretty shitty that he’d been forced to tell me rather than me figuring it out on my own.
I don’t go to town.
Those few words, along with the memory of how my mother had talked about Dallas, like he was a damn pariah, had been enough to make me realize that was exactly what he was.
It was what the town had turned him into.
And all because of a bad choice he’d made ten years ago that so many of the residents could have easily made themselves.
Dallas had been on the verge of making the forty-five-minute drive to Greenville, but when I’d offered to go to the local farm and feed store in Pelican Bay, he’d reluctantly conceded. I’d been tempted to ask him to come with me, because it bothered me more than I wanted to admit that he’d let the townspeople run him out of the place he’d been revered in as a kid, but I’d decided against it. Having had my own bout with infamy, I couldn’t really fault him for it. After all, if I’d had the chance, I would have run from Pelican Bay for a second time without looking back.
As it was, I could already feel the stares and muted whispers as people began recognizing me. I’d been back for more than a month and the talk about me that had been going around while I’d been searching for a job hadn’t dissipated even a bit. I suspected I had my mother’s gossiping ways to thank for that. She’d ended up adding fuel to the fire by spreading the word that I was working for Dallas. I had no clue why anyone cared, since I’d never been worth noticing before my return to Pelican Bay and clearly people wanted to pretend Dallas and his animals didn’t exist. But as I made my way to check out, one person after another watched me with suspicious eyes.
I half-expected someone to tackle me and accuse me of planning to steal the dog food.
All four bags that, combined, weighed more than I did.
I breathed a silent thanks when I saw that there wasn’t a line at the checkout, but that thanks turned into a slew of curse words as soon as my eyes landed on the man running the register.
Jimmy Cornell.
AKA Nolan Grainger’s Tormentor-in-Chief.
I didn’t bother begging Fate to make it so Jimmy didn’t recognize me, because his eyes lit up the second he saw me.
Like a kid who’d found his favorite toy behind the couch after months of searching for it.
“Nerdy Nolan Grainger,” Jimmy said with a wide grin as his eyes raked over me. “Heard you were back in town.”
The years hadn’t been kind to Jimmy. He had stringy black hair that hung in a disheveled mess around his face. His once-lean frame was now carrying a decent beer belly that the store’s red apron couldn’t hide. His teeth were yellowed and one was actually missing. There was a certain dullness to his gaze that reminded me of many of the homeless drug addicts I’d so often seen on the streets of both San Francisco and Boston alike. I had to wonder if it was more than just too much beer that Jimmy splurged on. I’d seen enough on the news recently to know that small towns weren’t immune to the vices of the big city. It wouldn’t have surprised me a bit if drugs had managed to find their way to the postcard cover worthy hamlet of Pelican Bay.