Finding Kyle(15)

“—and men who have tattoos just know how to fuck. And they know how to do things with their mouths. Oh, and they’re usually really hung.”

Just as Miranda says that, an older couple strolls by my booth. I give her a sharp nudge. We both turn our heads and give them a welcoming smile. They in turn glare at us as they walk right by, not even giving my paintings a glance.

“Okay, we are changing the subject,” I hiss at her. “You’re going to drive away any potential customers.”

“Nah,” she says dismissively with a wave of her hand. “Just the prudes. Anyway, men with tattoos are where it’s at. Trust me on this.”

“I trust you on most everything, but I don’t know,” I tell her dubiously. “It’s seriously not normal for someone to be that reclusive and shut off from society. What if he has mental issues?”

“What if he has a big dick?” she counters.

“Okay, we are now absolutely changing the subject,” I growl at her as I push out of my chair and turn to face her with a mock glare. She just looks back up at me with a knowing grin.

Knowing that I’ll now be wondering about the size of his—well, you know.

“And what were you two just talking about?” I hear a distinctly male, distinctly annoying voice ask from behind me.

I slowly turn around and stiffen my spine as I lock eyes on my ex-boyfriend, Craig Bartles. My asshole ex-boyfriend, I should clarify.

And true to his sleazy form, he’s standing there with Patty Dubois, the floozy he was cheating on me with. He’s got his arm draped casually over her shoulder, and she’s pressed into his side with her arm clinging tight around his waist. She gives me a nasty smile as she smacks at her gum.

We broke up over a year ago when I found him in my house, in my bed, giving it hard to Patty Dubois. When I gave him a key to use, I honestly didn’t think he’d use it like that.

Weirdly though, it wasn’t a difficult breakup. At least, not in the long run. While I had fashioned myself really in love with the man, it was about three days after our breakup that Miranda observed, “You know… you’re not even sad that Craig is gone.”

And I realized… she was right.

I was mad at what he did. And, as a woman, I was very hurt that he betrayed me. But I didn’t pine for him. In fact, I almost felt light and free after we parted ways.

I moved on and didn’t look back.

Craig couldn’t seem to do the same.

Because this is a small town, we run into each other a lot. And every time, he has something nasty to say. Most times, he’s with Patty, and he enjoys flaunting her in my face. I can’t figure out what I did to deserve his ire, other than breaking up with him, but I always tried to take the high road.

So I lift my chin up and prepare to polite the two of them to death when Miranda sneers at them. “Sorry… you two are going to have to move it along. We don’t serve patrons who have crabs.”

Craig just smirks, but Patty takes great offense. “I do not have crabs.”

“Yes, you do,” Miranda says. “Henry over at the pharmacy told me that you routinely have to get a prescription medication for your problem. So, if you would just move it along… I don’t want your creepy crawlies anywhere near me.”

Patty screeches in outrage, but Craig merely removes his arm from her shoulder and steps up to the table. His gaze goes to the Gray Birch Lighthouse painting, and he studies it for a moment.

“Nice work,” he says as he picks it up from the easel. My body immediately goes tight as he puts his grubby fingers on my work. He turns to look at me, holding the painting up. “I’ll give you five dollars for it.”

I don’t take the bait because he wants me to verbally clash with him. His tongue is sharper than mine, and he knows he’ll cut me down. Instead, I step around the table, push past Patty, who’s glaring daggers at Miranda, and I jerk the painting out of Craig’s hands. The move is so forceful that he’s caught off guard, and it easily comes free.

“It’s not for sale to you,” I tell him firmly.

And that should have been the end of it. But I’m completely stunned when his hand flies out and he jerks it right back out of my hands. He gives me a superior smile, and then purposefully lets it drop to the ground. I watch it tumble end over end until it falls facedown on the dirty pavement.

“Oops,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders as he raises his eyebrows innocently. “My bad.”

Normally, Miranda would be the one in this situation who would go apeshit. Instead, a wave of fury and frustration sweeps through me and I slam my hands into his chest, pushing him back a step. “You asshole,” I hiss at him. “You motherfucking asshole.”

“Tell him, girlfriend,” I hear Miranda egging me on.

Craig’s eyes narrow at me, but not so much that I don’t see a glint of malice shining through. I’m unprepared when his hand shoots out and grabs me by my upper arm. He jerks me toward him and snarls, “Better watch out who you hit, Janey, because I’m likely to hit back.”





CHAPTER 7




Kyle


I argued with myself that there was no sound reason to go to the grocery store this morning. My freezer was stocked with enough frozen meals to last more than a week, and I had beer in the fridge.