Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(87)

“It’s okay, I was just teasing you. I didn’t mean to overstep.” His face had taken on a blank quality she hated.

“It’s not you—”

“It’s you.” He gave her a small nod. “I get it. Hey, enjoy the wine.”

He walked down the aisle toward the checkout and Val called after him, “Thank you” but he just kept walking like he hadn’t heard her.

Grabbing her cart, she turned it angrily and muttered to herself, “You are such an idiot.”

“I beg your pardon?” a clipped voice said, and Val looked up to find she’d almost crashed into Mrs. Andrews. And by the look on the older woman’s face, she was not happy about it.


“I was talking to myself, Mrs. Andrews.”

“Oh, so you’re insane as well as immoral. It seems to run in the family. I thought for a while there that your little sister would have learned from your mistakes, but from her latest antics, that seems to be too much to expect.” Mrs. Andrews’s tone was cutting, and Val felt every slice. “Now, can you please move your cart?”

She knew coming back to this town had been a mistake, but she couldn’t leave Annabelle.

Val had never been lily white, especially in college, but she had never been reckless with herself either. Her little sister was heading down a dangerous road, and no matter what she said about it, Annie just shrugged her off. Val had watched their older sister almost destroy herself trying to escape their father’s stranglehold, but Annie didn’t have Caroline’s strength. Beneath all her dramatics, Annie was a sweet kid.

However, just because the whole town thought she was an adulterous slut didn’t mean she was going to take their abuse without fighting back. Especially when that venom encompassed her sisters.

Edward Willis didn’t raise weaklings, after all.

“Mrs. Andrews, I don’t like your tone or appreciate your insults. And to be honest,” Val lowered her voice for dramatic effect, “I find your top offensive. Your tatas are about to pop out.”

In reality, the top wasn’t in the least immodest, but Val felt the warmth of satisfaction when the woman huffed and moved around her. She hoped the cranky old bat went home immediately and burned the shirt.

Her triumph was short-lived as she made it to the end of the aisle and passed a woman with an infant car seat in her cart. Peeking inside, she saw a pink blanket and, above it, the sweet face of a sleeping baby.

Val’s stomach twisted with envy as she turned down the next aisle. It happened every time she saw a pregnant woman or a small child; the reality of what she’d never have came back to haunt her.

Val grabbed a package of premade cookie dough and decided that the rest of her grocery shopping could wait. Right now she wanted to be home, alone, without any catty townspeople, adorable newborns, or men who could make a grown woman turn to mush with just a glance.



“HEY, WHAT’S THE matter with you? You’re acting like Dad kicked your dog or something.”

Justin had his head under the hood of their old farm truck, so he had no idea why his brother thought he was acting like anything. “I’m just working on the truck.”

“Yeah, but you’re slamming tools and jerking around. What happened? You lose another bet?”

Justin pulled up from what he was doing and gave his older brother a level look. “No. I’m concentrating. That’s it.”

“Fine, I was just trying to help.” Everett’s wide grin made the scarred side of his face more distinctive. The red, puckered flesh had been healed for several years but still drew the eye. He was a strong man, and the right side of his face sported the same square jaw and light brown eyes Justin had, but it wasn’t what strangers noticed first. They noticed the scars.

Everett had been finishing his second tour in Afghanistan when a roadside bomb had taken out his Humvee. Everett had ended up in a military hospital after trying to save his friend. He’d had third-degree burns along the left side of his face and neck and damaged hearing. His friend hadn’t survived.

Still, the townfolk of Rock Canyon saw Everett as a hero. They didn’t know about his nightmares, though, or the severe PTSD that had cost him his wife, Melanie. By the time he’d come back to Rock Canyon, all of that was behind him, and he had picked up where he’d left off, helping his dad on the ranch.

Everett was the reason Justin had joined the Marines in the first place, but while his brother had been in the infantry, working his way up the ranks, Justin had scored so high on the ASVAB that he’d been able to practically choose his assignment.

He’d chosen to be a mechanic—a trade he could take with him when he got out. He wasn’t like Everett, who would have been a lifer. He had wanted the education and the benefits because without them, the only thing he was going to end up doing was working the farm and taking care of his dad when he got too drunk to stand on his own.

Justin’s mouth twisted grimly. He’d left home at eighteen to escape the life of a farmer, and twelve years later, he was right back where he’d started. He could have left any time, if he’d really wanted to, but he couldn’t turn his back on the only family he had left. In spite of the times his dad let his demons get the better of him, he was a good man and father.

He was just a stubborn son of a bitch.

“You seem more pensive than usual,” Everett said, handing him a beer as he sat down on one of the stools in the garage.