Worth the Risk(18)

Is he being a prick? Yes. Is he baiting me so that I hate him and will leave him alone? Hell, yes.

And I walked right into it.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

“Look, I’m sorry.” My words are quiet, but I know he hears every word because his steps slow and then stop. “Thank you for your help.”

When I lift my head, he’s staring at me, head angled, eyes unrelenting, bottom lip worrying between his teeth. “No thanks needed. A gentleman doesn’t step in for those . . . but it’s amazing what sincerity and humility can do to a person’s appeal. You should try it more often.”

Don’t take the bait.

“What’s your problem, Malone?”

“You.” He’s so matter-of-fact it startles me.

“Me?”

“Yep.” This time with a definitive nod.

“Hold grudges long?”

“Nope. Just smart enough to know that people don’t change and too busy to give a rat’s ass if they do.”

We stand there and stare at each other across the dim light as our wills battle.

“You’re infuriating.”

“Good. Then maybe you’ll drop this contest nonsense and stop stalking me to try to win me over.” He lifts his eyebrows as he waits for a response.

“That’s what this is all about?” I laugh in disbelief. “You’re pissed off because you entered a contest and now you don’t want to be a part of it?”

“First, I didn’t enter any contest—my brothers entered me. And second, my opinion of you has nothing to do with my saying no to the contest. It’s your holier-than-thou attitude that has me saying no.” He retreats a step, the parking lot of cars at his back now, and then takes a look at my hands and smiles smugly. “Make sure to wash that blue-collar off you. It doesn’t suit you too well.”

With that, he walks over to a truck parked across the street, climbs in, sends one final glare my way, and then pulls a U-turn and drives off.

For some reason, I walk to the corner of the street and stare at his taillights as they glow at the stoplight, willing him good riddance while at the same time fighting the urge to chase him down so I can get the last word in.

It’s probably best he left when he did. I chuckle, clearly hearing the lunacy edging its sound as I wonder how in the hell I’m going to undo all of that. How am I going to step this back so that I can accomplish the one thing Rissa tasked me with?

“Sidney Thorton? Is that you?”

I startle at the high-pitched shriek of someone who obviously recognizes me, and there is only one person who has that kind of voice—chatty Cathy Clementine.

“Cathy? Oh my God, hi,” I say the minute I turn and see that I’m right. “It’s been forever.”

“Over ten years.” She laughs as she moves in for a quick hug. It’s so unexpected that it leaves me momentarily stunned before I reciprocate it so I don’t look like I’m being a bitch. “And you look no worse for the wear.”

“And neither do you!”

“Oh, honey, no need to lie. I’ve gotten rounder and softer, and you’ve gotten skinnier and hotter.”

I blush, feeling neither of those things after everything that just happened.

“Was that Grayson Malone you were just chatting with? Or should I say having a lover’s spat with? Things looked a little tense.”

She hasn’t changed one bit. Always wanting to know everything about everyone.

“No. We’re not—he isn’t . . .” I pause to collect my thoughts, which are on the far side of chaotic. “He just helped me with something.”

“Whew. Thank goodness, or there would be hearts breaking all over Sunnyville tonight.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s a hard one to compete for, and you’re a hard one to compete against.”

“Oh, stop. You’re too nice to my ego,” I say and put my hand on her arm.

“What brings you back to good ol’ Sunnyville anyway?”

“I’m just in town to help revive a magazine. Nothing permanent. How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Teaching second grade over at the elementary school. Nothing too exciting compared to the glamorous life I’m sure you’re living,” she says and laughs in a self-deprecating way that makes me sad. “But enough about me. Tell me more about you.”

“There’s, uh, nothing really to . . .” For some reason, I glance in the direction Grayson’s truck went, and when I look back at her, she has her head angled to the side, studying me with a knowing smile on her lips.

“Those Malone boys really know how to make you squeeze your Kegels, don’t they?”

“Jesus.” I all but laugh.

“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” A lift of her eyebrows. A playful punch to my shoulder. “They are one hot trifecta.”

“Since Grayson’s the only brother I’ve seen since I’ve been back in town, I can’t agree or disagree.” I figure I’ll play it safe with that response because if Cathy is still the same as she was in high school, anything I say can and will be used against me in the court of local gossip.

“Agree. Just flat-out agree because, let me tell you, those men were not created equal.”