Bad Boy's Revenge: A Small-Town Romantic Suspense (7 page)

First, I’d find the bastard who framed me and bleed him for my revenge.

Then, Josie would give me the only thing I want.

A family.

Chapter Five - Josie

Maddox was the only man who tempted me to do something very naughty with my buttercream icing. That made him the
wrong
man for me. He was the tablespoon of salt in my recipe—the accident that didn’t ruin the dish but made it that much harder.

I recovered from his
visit
. At least, my body did. My heart? Kinda forgot to hop on board. I wasn’t ready to confront those feelings, it wasn’t
safe
to admit those feelings, so I buried myself in cake flour and filled every available space in my apartment with ten different types of cookies.

Chocolate chip mended broken hearts.

Macadamia nut were good for forgetting.

The multi-colored meringue cookies helped to focus my concentration, especially when Maddox turned my thoughts from sugar and spice to everything naughty…but nice.

I double-plastic wrapped the more fragile lattice-sugar cookies and tinned the rest in pretty bundles with my shop’s decals. I didn’t have enough to decorate all the packages, but everyone would know where the treats came from.

And one day, they’d line up at my store again to buy their own dozen.

Hopefully.

I loaded my car to the brim with more cookies than I had space in my little Ford. I counted the batches and sighed. I hadn’t tried to sleep after Maddox left on Friday night. Instead I baked straight through Saturday into Sunday and finally dozed off on a batch of oatmeal raisins. I caught the cookies before they burned, but not before I realized I was in trouble.

Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined my apartment door slamming shut again. Part of me hated myself for letting Maddox stay the night. The other part was listening too intently for his return. I told him to leave, but when did Maddox ever listen to anyone?

How was he released from prison so soon?

What was I supposed to do to save him now?

It was too early to head to Nolan’s rally. Fortunately, the event was close to Granddad. I detoured to Willowbend Health Center to check on him…even if Granddad hadn’t been in the greatest of moods for visits.

He hated the
home
. I wished he hadn’t called it that—especially since the assisted care facility was one of the best and most expensive in the state. I spent every last cent of the insurance money on a room for him, planning for him to bounce back from the injuries so we could rebuild and start fresh together.

That was before I learned about his debts. Then the doctors warned his prognosis was poor.

I didn’t know what we’d do, especially since Granddad wasn’t…himself anymore. He cursed the nurses, refused his treatments, and complained about the butterscotch pudding. I didn’t like that it came from a box either, but at least he was alive to complain about it.

I buttered up the nurses he exasperated with enough cookies to earn their patience. Poor Larry was on duty at the station, hiding behind a hunting magazine. I passed him the plate of chocolate chips and accepted his canonization of my sainthood.

Granddad’s door was closed. I gently rapped on the frame. He grunted, and it was about the best we’d get. He acted like he wanted to smile when he saw me, but Granddad rarely allowed it anymore. Said the oxygen tubes made him look more machine than man.

He looked like the same man I remembered. My loving, wonderful grandfather—just a bit older, just a bit frailer, but he was still there.

Somewhere.

“Hey, Granddad,” I said. “I was in the neighborhood.”

He reached for the remote. For a second, I thought he might turn off the TV. At least he lowered the volume.

“How are you feeling?” I took the seat next to him. Was it possible his hair grayed even more in the few days since I saw him last? “The nurses said you had a bad night?”

“Every night is bad, Jo-Jo.”

His voice rasped. The coughing started. They must have cranked the oxygen up for him—hell, I heard the air hissing through the tubes. His lungs were bad before the fire, but I didn’t know how much smoke and debris he inhaled while he was trapped inside.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” I pulled my phone, prepared for a list. “I’m out and about today. I can go to the store, get you some popcorn or a soda or…”

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t sound fine. The words were curt, bitten. Not at all how he used to talk to me. Hell, Nana would have slapped him across the face if he ever took that tone with either of us.

But Nana was gone, had been since I was thirteen. I was glad she didn’t see him like this.

“Know what I miss most about the shop?” I asked.

I tucked my feet under me, settling in. Granddad grunted. He hated when I talked about Sweet Nibbles, but the doctors said it was good for him—something that might draw him out of the depression.

“Remember that picture that used to hang by the register?” I said.

“No.”

“Yes, you do. It was the one when I was little. Me on the counter, you and Nana behind me. She was handing me that ridiculously huge ice cream cone. Four scoops and they were all toppling.”

“Five scoops.”

I smiled. Granddad rubbed his face, his dark hands trembling as a rickety cough shuddered through his chest. He whooped a few times, and I handed him the little cup of water on his nightstand.

“I wish I had that photo,” I said. “I miss Nana. I’m starting to forget what she even looked like.”

“Look in the mirror.” Granddad didn’t take his eyes from the television. “You’re her, fifty years ago. Same cheekbones. Same lips. Hell, you scold me the same goddamn way. Think I’d get any peace after working a long day? Nah. Your Nana would find me after work and drag my keister home for dinner every night.”

I nodded, though I knew the real reason Nana was grabbing him for dinner. So did the rest of the town. Granddad was a good man, an honest man, but he had liked to drink.

And he really loved to gamble.

Too much.

“So…did you ever decide if you wanted to sell your electrical business?” I pretended like the option hadn’t weighed on my mind. “We might be able to get some money from it. We could sell the client list.”

“To who?”

I picked at a fraying bit of string on my sleeve. “Maddox.”

“That trouble-maker’s in jail.”

“He got out.”

“What?” Granddad turned, catching his hands in his oxygen tubes as he pointed at me. “You stay away from that boy.”

“You took him in as your apprentice.”

“Yeah, because I thought he was going to get you in trouble.”

“Granddad.”

“Don’t you
Granddad
me. That boy is dangerous.”

“He didn’t cause the fire.”

“Don’t be so sure.” The cough bent him in two. “His family ain’t no good. His sister is a known woman. His friends in the city don’t have a dollar between them that they haven’t stolen from someone’s pocket. He had his eyes on you from the beginning, and if I weren’t tethered to this damn oxygen tank I’d take care of him once and for all.”

“But you
liked
Maddox.”

“That was before he almost killed you.”

“It wasn’t him!”

“You don’t remember a thing from that night, Jo-Jo. I do. Stay away from him.”

Granddad coughed again. Too hard. I handed him more water, but he batted it away, accidentally spilling the contents over him and the floor. He swore. It only caused more coughing.

Would it always be this hard to watch him? To see the man who raised me get sick?

Get weaker?

Granddad silenced again. He stared at the TV, but he wasn’t ignoring me or losing himself in the show. His mind was
fine
, just cluttered with impatience, rage, and…regret?

Like he wished he hadn’t survived the fire.

The thought ached in my chest. I cleared my throat, changing the subject.

“I have a job today,” I said. “I had to make every cookie I know for Nolan Rhys. His campaign fundraiser is today.”

Granddad fiddled with the remote. “That Nolan. He still pestering you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Might be time to consider him.”

Gag
. “No thanks, Granddad.”

“He’s been after you as long as Maddox.”

Yeah, but Maddox actually loved me. Nolan? He was evil. Manipulative. Someone who would kill to get what he wanted.

And no one knew but me.

“I’m not interested in Nolan,” I said.

“You’re twenty-two years old. It’s time you start thinking about your future.” Granddad set his jaw. He tapped my hand. “I’m not gonna be here forever. And that candy shop—”

“We’re gonna rebuild.”

Granddad didn’t answer, and I wasn’t going to say anything else. My future was buried under twenty-five pound bags of sugar and nothing was going to change that. Not Nolan.

Not Maddox.

It was getting late. I leaned over and kissed Granddad’s forehead. Wrinkled. The gray dusted hair that was once midnight black. Everything faded with age. I just hoped he wasn’t giving up. If only he had some faith in the candy shop. Instead, he started to sound like the rest of Saint Christie. They preferred to remember the past while I worked hard for my future.

Once I proved that Nolan was responsible for the fire, nothing would stop us from rebuilding, forgiving, and starting our real life.

Then maybe, finally, I could imagine a life with Maddox again.  

I didn’t know what I dreaded more—Granddad’s silence when I wished him goodbye or Nolan’s campaign event.

His campaign
circus
.

The fundraiser filled the ballroom/continental breakfast hall of the largest motel in Saint Christie. After he bought the majority of rooms in the hotel, he asked for favors from most of the townsfolk to put up more of his campaign organizers. This included decorators who festooned the motel with stars and stripes. The only thing Nolan loved more than the acclaim of the town was his name scrawled in posters throughout Main Street.

Fortunately, I could duck His Majesty. I waved over the nearest staffer and informed her of the cookie situation unfolding in the back of my car. She and an intern unloaded my trunk, and another passed me an envelope with a check.

Easier than I thought it’d be.

“Josie!”

My skin crawled. The artificial charm slathered over his words, sticking to me like simple syrup left in globs on a counter.

Nolan approached me with an outstretched arm. At least he shook my hand instead of forcing me into a hug. Not that the handshake was much better. His grip was too firm, too aggressive. His palm swallowed my fingers.

I got the feeling that he liked that.

Nolan grinned, baring teeth too sharp for his smile. He might have been handsome if I wasn’t so sure he’d bite me like a jawbreaker just to scrape out the sugar inside.

“I had hoped to catch you before the fundraiser began.” He hadn’t released my hand. Those blue eyes studied parts of me I wished he wouldn’t imagine. “I wanted to thank you for your support in my campaign. I hope I’ll have your vote this November.”

We were surrounded by too many people for me to make a scene. He pulled a
Rhys for My Rep
sticker from his pocket and gently patted it onto my shirt. If we weren’t in sight of everyone, I was sure his hand would have patted lower.

If he had a soul, and I had any other life, maybe we might have found a common interest in each other. Nolan wasn’t bad looking—he was actually attractive. Blue eyes, blonde hair, and every inch he fought to six feet exuded confidence. He was two years older than me, Maddox’s age, but even in high school his gaze lingered too long. He thought his name would get him far with me. It didn’t, and that was the greatest insult of all.

“I brought the cookies.” I placed a step between us. He immediately closed the gap. “Your campaign people are just finishing the set up. I’ll be out of your way in a minute.”

“You’re never in the way, Josie.” He said my name, testing it, probably imagining how it would sound spoken with a
Congressman and Mrs. Rhys.
“I have a few minutes before I’m needed. I was hoping you’d join me for a cup of coffee.”

Absolutely not, but did he expect me to say no? I wasn’t sure how much I could get away with around him, not now that Maddox was back in town.

“You’re awfully busy,” I said. “I should get going.”

“I need to talk with you, Josie. Let me buy you a cup of coffee, and we can settle things.”

Nolan either wanted to do business with me or to pin me against the wall. I didn’t trust either proposition.

“Maybe some other time.”

Nolan didn’t let me run far. “Maddox is out of jail.”

I stilled. The coy edge in his voice forced me to turn. Nolan rubbed his strong chin.

“Keeping secrets?” he asked.

I swallowed. It didn’t help. All the cookie dough I ate for breakfast solidified into a rock in my stomach. I forced a smile, if only to keep up appearances.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

“Just a cup of coffee, Josie. A chance to talk.”

Like I had a choice.

Nolan offered his arm. The thought revolted me, but I wouldn’t challenge him at Maddox’s expense. I took his elbow. My skin somehow looked darker, less cinnamon and more toffee under his hand. He liked that, but I wasn’t used to being a fetish.

Anne’s Beans wasn’t owned by Anne Wilks anymore—she sold to Tommy Waddock ten years ago who willed the property to his second wife, Anne Markson. They kept the name, but the locals still called it Tommy’s place. In any case, it was the best shop to get a cup of coffee in the town, especially when Anne, Tommy, and Annie each sent their customers to my family’s shop for a treat with their drink.

Rebecca Darcy worked the shift tonight—nine months pregnant to a husband she hadn’t seen in ten, but the town kept that quiet as poor Cade was on his second tour and did all he could. We sat, but Rebecca hovered, winking as I claimed the corner table. She was one of the townspeople who thought Nolan and I made a good match.