Please read the author's note at the end of this chapter 😁❤️

Chapter 9

I took my time getting ready the next morning. I curled my hair and kept my makeup simple. Innocent. Ankle length floral dress. The girls all tucked in. The rest of me accentuated just enough to spike imagination. It wasn't the first time I'd dressed this way. Half my clients preferred it. A good girl. The kind of girl who wouldn't be caught dead with most of those assholes.

I told myself it was because I was going to church, but I knew that wasn't entirely true. John's rejection the day before had been a hit to my ego, and I was bound and determined to crack his code.

Until he answered my knock on his door, and I forgot how to breathe.

He'd clipped his hair short, shaved his face smooth. His bone structure made me self conscious: high cheekbones, straight nose, strong jaw. He wore a button-down shirt tucked into dress slacks, smelled like mint and musk. A golden boy; that was the best way to describe him. The kind of guy that made the newspaper. The kind that helped an old lady cross the street on his way to save a puppy from drowning. The kind of man people called a hero.

An upstanding citizen.

Rough in all the right places.

I stood there, staring, feeling things and ways I'd never felt before. Then, in a moment of shocking clarity, I realized why.

He was my kink.

Woah. I swallowed, stunned. I had a type? I'd never thought about my own preferences, too busy focused on everyone else's. No one in this town had ever gotten my attention. But it made sense that he was it. A gorgeous detective who didn't want to sleep with me. A man I couldn't read. A man out hunting the same person I wanted to find.

He was perfect.

John cleared his throat. "You look nice."

My face heated. Holy shit. I was blushing. I laughed loudly, a belly laugh, a sound I'd forgotten I used to make.

His brows pinched. "Are you on something?"

"No." I heaved a breath, pursed my lips, forced myself to calm. I was acting like a crazy person. "It's just. . .Well, who knew you were so hot?"

He rolled his eyes, but I didn't miss the way his back straightened. He liked my little compliment.

I bit back a grin.. "We should go, John-boy. We need to make a stop on the way."

He nodded then closed the trailer door and headed toward his truck.

I followed at a distance, and just like he had the night before, he circled around and opened my door for me. A gentleman. His scent filled my nose as I climbed in, hit me like a breeze as he closed me inside. The men I saw smelled like booze. Perhaps that was why I hadn't noticed him before. Well, I'd noticed him, but not to this extent. Not twelve hours ago, he'd been mysterious, but overall, more of the same. Another dirty drunk in a sea full of dirty, drunk fish.

Now, I'd been enlightened. John wasn't just another fish. He was the kind of catch old men told stories about outside tackle stores.

He hopped in the driver's seat and revved the engine. "Where are we stopping?"

I eased back in my seat, watching him without shame. Perhaps that's what Mama meant when she called my daddy a twister. So far this man had brought nothing but bad news and disaster, but he sure was amazing to look at. "I was robbed two nights ago, and I've got a possible lead on who did it."

His eyes shot to me and scanned, as if expecting to find me suddenly riddled with bullets. "You didn't mention it."

"Yes, I did. Just now."

"Were you hurt?"

Was I hurt? I wasn't sore anymore. I hadn't lost anything I hadn't already sold a million times before, and I didn't want to talk about that. Not with him. "Do I look injured?"

He focused back on the road, and the quiet that followed was too still. What was he thinking? I wanted to ask. I hated that I couldn't read him.

"I guess not," I said when he didn't answer.

"We both know the worst scars are invisible."

My heart skipped. A man who understood. I needed to get it together. I needed to focus on what was important. I finally understood how it felt to be distracted, and it didn't even seem like he was trying. "Someone broke into my trailer and took all the cash I was saving. Whoever it was either works at or spends a lot of time at the truck stop."

"And you know this how?" John turned the appropriate way, letting me know he knew where we were headed. I wasn't surprised; it was right up the road and the closest place to get gas.

"He smelled like it."

"Like the truck stop?"

"Like my friend Kyle after he gets off work."

"Kyle was the one you were with the other day?"

"Yes."

He was quiet again, thoughtful. "It couldn't have been him?"

"No." The answer was immediate. "Not only do I trust Kyle more than anyone on this Earth, it wouldn't make sense for him to steal it. It was his money as much as it was mine. We were saving together."

John nodded and pulled into the large dirt parking lot. Eighteen wheelers lined the far right side; another pulled in to join them. The building was long and deep. There were two entrances: the store side and the restaurant side, but all was connected within. There were billiard tables, where Kyle and I would sometimes play pool when we were teenagers. Showers and rooms for the truckers passing through.

We parked right in front of the store and went inside, a bell on the door signaling our arrival. Wood paneled walls, rows of snacks and novelties, and Kyle greeted us.

His eyes widened. "Joy—"

"Is he here?" I asked.

"They've got him bussing breakfast dishes, but I don't think—"

I beelined across the store, to the doorway connecting the restaurant. Several tables were full of either truck drivers or locals stopping for an early breakfast before church. Seth was collecting the dishes off a nearby booth.

I walked over and tapped his shoulder.

He looked back, and I tracked his reaction. There was surprise, but not the amount I'd expect from someone confronted by their victim.

He straightened. "Can I help you?"

"Did you take my money?"

He scanned the table, then motioned to the front counter. "Servers collect the tips. She must have gotten it before I got over here."

Clueless. And it wasn't an act. He was as easy to read and Dr. Seuss. He wasn't the one. "My mistake." I turned away and found John lingering by the doorway.

"Well?" he asked when I got close.

"It's not him." And if it wasn't him, it could be anyone. A random. Any truck driver passing through. Whoever took it was probably three states over by now. Angry, hot tears stung my eyes. I wasn't sure what I'd expected. It would have been a miracle to get that money back, and I'd stupidly let myself believe it was possible.

"We could ask around—"

"No." I wanted to leave. I wanted to forget. "Not today."

John followed me outside, seeming to know I was in no mood to talk about it. We left without a word, not to Kyle, not to each other, and the ride was as lifeless as my future.

We pulled into the church lot just as cars were starting to arrive. John parked away from the building and cut the engine. He paused. "I can go in alone if you're not up for it."

"I'm fine," I lied. I was never fine. It was always something. Nothing ever went right, not for me. But I hadn't cried about it before, and I wasn't about to start now. "Let's just get this over with."

Hi, all! I hope you enjoyed! So, I'm thinking of taking a short break from this to focus on Stay in your Lane. We're making great progress, and I finally have this plot figured out! Just doing both books is getting to be a little rough, and I need to start thinking about Book 5 of Toxic Nature. I promise, it isn't going to be a long wait like last time. I just have a deadline on Stay in your Lane that I don't have for this. Soon as it's done, I promise to make this book my #1 priority.

Thank you all so much for always supporting me ❤️ I appreciate you more than you could ever know