One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(3)

The only two who’d managed to find some peace were Aunt Tootie and the Kings’ aunt Bug. Even though they didn’t like each other, they took it upon themselves to make sure we didn’t tear down the town around us when we got to arguing with each other. For the tourists’ sake, we kept outward appearances, but it wasn’t unheard of to have a throwdown at the pub on a Saturday night.

I reached out to Penny, and she tucked her little hand in mine. Together we walked with Lee toward the funeral home. The warm air inside whooshed out as I pulled the heavy door open. The familiar smell of roses and musk turned my stomach. I pushed down the flash of my mother’s smiling face as I walked through the door.

The foyer was nearly empty. Hushed voices floated through the air, and small handfuls of people huddled in groups.

“Why is no one here?” Penny whispered.

My heart sank. I remembered Bowlegs as a kind and soft-spoken man. A little odd, even for a townie. Neither a Sullivan nor a King, he was a staple in our community. Every day he’d walk the town in his Moon Boots, collecting cans or feeding the wildlife.

My eyes swept through the sparse crowd and recognized every single person in the room.

Except her.

I hastily signed the guest book as Penny asked Lee a thousand questions about Bowlegs, my eyes tracking the unknown brunette quietly weeping in the corner.

Outfitted in a formfitting black dress that swept just past her knees, an air of elegance swirled around her. The short sleeves fluttered around her slim biceps. The woman dabbed a tissue under her pert nose, and a soft sob escaped her again. I watched her take a shuddering breath before fresh tears leaked out from thick, dark lashes.

I leaned into Lee. “Who the hell is that?”

His gaze fell onto the stranger, and he shrugged. “No clue.”

“Daddy, I’m hungry.” Penny pulled at my hand, and I looked down at her. Her eyes sliced toward the open casket.

Lee leaned down to her. “Are you starving . . . to death?” Mischief laced his tone as a cackle erupted from Penny. Heads turned in our direction.

I shot them each a warning glance as a hand clamped over her mouth, and Lee pulled his lips in to stifle his own laughter.

“I already paid my respects. I’ll find Pickle a snack. You go ahead.”

I looked at Penny to make sure she was okay with the plan, and when she laced her hand into Lee’s, I knew she was relieved to not be going with me toward the casket. I nodded, and Lee brought Penny down the hallway toward the small room that would undoubtedly be filled with coffee and pastries.

As I made my way toward the front of the room, I couldn’t help but watch the mysterious woman. I noticed others had started watching her too.

Deeply upset, the woman wept, silent sobs racking her body.

Did Bowlegs have a daughter?

Clearly a stunner like her wasn’t some unidentified widow. Sure there were rumors he was secretly wealthy, but Bowlegs was an elderly man, and this woman was a knockout. Surely she had her pick of any man.

With a sad shake of her head, the woman looked longingly at the casket a final time before turning. As she swept past me, our eyes locked.

My breath seized.

My heart hammered.

What the hell?

Time moved in slow motion as her mossy hazel eyes swept down, her wet lashes nearly touching the apples of her cheeks.

The wind was knocked straight out of me. My head spun. My blood was thick, and all she’d done was walk past me.

I watched her leave, and despite the alarm bells clanging in my skull, I silently followed. Down the darkened hallway, the woman stood across from Tootie and Bug. The aunties nodded as the mystery woman smiled.

Just like that, the weeping probably-not-a-widow was clear eyed and smiling kindly at the women. I hung toward the wall, feeling like a creeping asshole watching the three women talking in the dark hallway, but then it happened.

Tootie reached into her purse and placed a stack of bills into the woman’s hand.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.





2





LARK





The worst part of my job was all the dead bodies.

A chilly breeze still clung to the air as spring made its creeping transition to summer. I sucked in the moist air, loving the fact that you could smell the water no matter where you were in town. I scanned the sea of faces standing around the grave site. My black mirrored sunglasses concealed my eyes as I looked from face to face, curious about those who’d come to pay their respects and imagining their lives like a movie playing out right in front of me.

Surprisingly, a few more people had shown up today than were at the wake yesterday. In my experience, the opposite was typically true. It was still a depressingly small number of people, and it was no wonder Tootie and Bug had needed my services.

I was alone, but that wasn’t unusual nor uncomfortable for me. I simply held my head high, dabbed my nose at the appropriate times, and played the part. From my vantage point in the front, but nestled discreetly to the side, I could see two distinct groups of mourners forming.

The first consisted mostly of tall, imposing men wearing various styles of well-tailored suits. Even the one covered in tattoos, the ink peeking above his collar and out of his shirtsleeves, wore a suit that looked to be made for him. Most resembled each other with broad shoulders, long straight noses, and an unmistakably dangerous glint in their eyes. More than one looked like he was ready for a fight. The woman who’d introduced herself to me as Bug stood in the center of them.