What if she was pregnant? What if that was why she was suddenly getting married?
Oh my God, what if I was going to be an aunt?
I needed to get home. I had to know what the hell was going on in my sister’s life. Suddenly, it was dire.
“Well, it was good catching up with you. You look like you’re doing great. Cute kids.” I turned, and reached into my car for my wallet. “I should get going. I’ve got to get home in time to change for Emma’s engagement party.”
“Right. I nearly forgot about her engagement.”
“Yup. She’s getting married.” An awkward chuckle made its way past my lips. I hoped she couldn’t tell she most likely knew more about who Emma was marrying than I did. My heart picked up pace. I did not want to learn who Emma had said yes to from Millie Green.
A glimmer lit Millie’s blue eyes, letting me know she was nearly on to me. “So are you okay with her marrying—” Someone blared their horn, interrupting what she was about to say. They had pulled up behind my car, waiting to use the pump next.
Thank goodness there were still impatient assholes in Parish Cove.
Mathew started crying then, obviously startled from the noise, and it was the perfect excuse to cut our conversation short.
“It’s okay, sugar,” Millie cooed to him. “I should get going. It’s time for his nap.”
“Okay. I should probably pay for my gas. This place is filling up, and it looks like this pump is needed.”
“Right.” Millie tipped her head to the side as she bounced up and down, soothing the screaming baby on her hip. “I’ll tell Miles you said hello.”
Miles. Millie had married Miles Harmon, her high school sweetheart. They became a family of M’s. Miles, Millie, Mallory, and Mathew. Gag.
“You do that.” I smiled. Judging from her stare, she was trying to get a reaction out of me. Unfortunately for her, I couldn’t care less who she had married. “I’m sure I’ll run into you again at some point while I’m here.”
“Sure.” A kilowatt smile plastered itself on her face. It was the same one I remembered from high school. It was fake, big, and held a creepy quality to it that put me on edge. “Be sure to tell your sister I said congratulations. And don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll make a great bridesmaid. Someone will come along for you one day. You’re still so adorable.” Her eyes skimmed over me once more.
Was that a backhanded compliment? Did she not think I was attractive enough to land someone to marry? What a bitch. “Thanks.” I started toward the station, ready to put some space between myself and Millie, as well as her screaming kid. How could she be so calm with that wailing happening right in her ear?
I pulled a crumpled ten from my wallet as I found a place in line. All I needed was a little gas to get me to my mom’s house. I would fill up before I left town again on Sunday.
“Charlotte Rose Montgomery, look at you.” Goose bumps erupted across my skin at the same time my heart picked up its pace. I remembered that voice, even though it was a little deeper, a little older now. How could I ever forget it?
“Dawson Phillips.” I spun to face the only guy I had ever wanted more than chocolate.
Good God, time had been good to him.
He definitely hadn’t peaked in the looks department during high school like so many others he had hung with. His baby blue eyes locked with mine, and those perfect lips I’d always daydreamed of kissing again twisted into his famous smirk that would forever be etched into my memory.
“How have you been?” he asked in his rich baritone of a voice. It made my stomach summersault in a good way, and my toes curl. “The college life being good to you?”
His southern drawl had been something I adored about him. It wasn’t so thick that he cut the G off any ing word, but was still there, slowing his words down like sweet molasses. It seemed to have gotten thicker with time. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, swearing he had left Parish Cove last I had checked. Which I had done more often than I cared to admit, waiting to graduate high school. I had wanted him to get out of this town after he graduated three years before me. There were better things for Dawson in the world besides what he could settle for here, if he wasn’t going to settle for me. His accent had me worried he hadn’t left for long though.
I’d been gone for two years. That would have been five for him, which should have been plenty of time for that southern accent of his to die down. But it hadn’t. Had he been forced to move back here, or had the ties that always seemed to keep people here pulled him back?
“College is good. Life is good outside of Parish Cove.” I smiled, hoping he would agree and tell me where he had been the past few years. I didn’t want to have to ask. Wouldn’t that seem as though I were being nosy? It wasn’t my business, but good grief, I wanted it to be.
Why had I stopped scouring his Facebook page?
Oh, right, because Sadie had caught me and claimed it was unhealthy and stalkerish. It was. Even though stalking someone on Facebook was the thing to do now. People always treated their pages like diaries, which made it so easy.
“Good to hear.” Was it me or had his eyes dipped to the little bit of cleavage I had showing? I would have to thank Sadie for this top. She’d insisted on picking out my driving clothes, swearing you never knew when you would run into someone from the past you wanted to impress.
I’d have to call her later and tell her thank you. She would eat my words up, especially if I tacked on a ‘you were right.’
“Miss, can I help you?” the cashier asked from behind me.
I glanced at her. Apparently, it was my turn in line. “Uh, yeah.” I moved to the counter. “I need ten on pump two please.” I passed my wrinkled ten across the counter, trying not to focus on the heat sweeping along the backside of my body from Dawson’s nearness.
What were the chances of seeing him here? Slim to none, my mind answered.
“All right. Thank you.” She punched in buttons on her register. “Have a good day.”
“Thanks,” I replied a little late. My mind was focused on Dawson standing behind me, and what I should say to him next.
I stepped to the side and prepared to turn and face him once more, but he leaned past me, staring at the lady behind the register. “A pack of Marlboro Reds, Doris.”
He knew her by name. Dawson had moved back. He had to have. How could he know her name if he hadn’t?
“Your daddy isn’t about to give up that bad habit of his even now, is he?” The lady smirked.
“I think at this point he figures what’s the use.” There was sadness laced within his words, even though he tried to hide it with another smile. I could still see through him after all this time. This surprised me.
What happened to his dad, and why was he buying him cigarettes?
Dawson noticed me staring at him with a bemused look plastered on my face. “Lung cancer. Finally gripped a hold of my ol’ man.”
“Wow.” was all I said. I searched my brain for something else, anything that might sound better, more compassionate, but nothing came. There was something a person was supposed to say in these situations, but I couldn’t think of the words for the life of me.
Dawson’s dad was sick. Really sick. With cancer. That was what brought him back to Parish Cove. I wondered how long he had been free from this place before he got the news and was forced to come back.
“Here you go.” Doris slipped a pack of Marlboros across the counter to him.
He passed her some money and scooped up the box. “Thanks.” One of his hands moved to press against the small of my back as he steered me toward the door to the station. The spot bloomed with fire from his sudden touch, and my breath caught in my throat. “He only smokes a pack a week now though, so that’s good.”