Twist of Fate (Taking Chances #2) - Tia Louise Page 0,66

I started out wanting to travel, to see the world. Then life threw me a little detour with Melody. Then I discovered having my own shop, helping people find lost treasures or discover new ones is deeply satisfying. It’s like my dad said, where the romance is.

“Dad,” I whisper to the quiet. “You were right about that part, but what about the rest? I don’t want to be alone like you.”

My eyes grow heavy, and I feel the sleep growing stronger. Crawling beneath the cool sheets in my room, the rumble of thunder and the hush of rain lull me to sleep, despite my anxiety.

The truth is finally coming out, and while I don’t know if it will lead to happiness, I do know it will make me free.

I can’t stop moving. It’s nine forty-five, and I pace around the store, rearranging figurines in the bookcase, adjusting a desk. My fingers tremble, and my heart beats so hard, I hope I don’t hyperventilate.

Digging in a box from Dad’s store, I take out a gilded plate with gold leaf design and The Blue Boy and Pinkie in a center wreath. I trace my finger over the girl’s straight nose and pointed gaze.

The portraits were done by different artists at different times, but they’re always sold as a set. They’re also a cliché from the mid-nineteenth century, “the Romeo and Juliet of Rococo portraiture,” appearing on everything from vases to lamps. Still, antiquers love them.

The bell over the door dings, and I jump, nearly dropping it. My heart is in my throat, and I hold a blink, willing myself to be calm.

“Working on a Sunday?” It’s Chad Tucker, and I exhale as the adrenaline rushes from my veins. “Sorry, did I startle you?”

“No, it’s okay.” I feel like a dishrag. “I’m meeting someone at ten. I thought you were him.”

“Him?” A curious smile is on his face.

“Just an old friend.”

He turns the page in an old book. “I heard Travis Walker was back in town. He’s not bothering you, is he?”

“He stopped by on Friday, but I didn’t encourage him.” I glance up and realize he’s watching me. “It’s not Travis.”

“That’s good.” He nods, seeming relieved. “Not that it’s any of my business. He doesn’t seem like the football type.”

“I don’t really want him around Melody either.”

We exchange an understanding smile, and he steps around the boxes, heading to the door. An old lamp with an elaborate feather and jeweled shade blocks his way, and he nods to it. “You should show this one to Ms. Roxanne.”

Roxanne Philpot is one of the older ladies in the Village. Her husband died twenty years ago leaving her filthy rich, and she took the filthy part to heart. She makes regular trips to Hedonism, orders penis cakes from Emberly, dresses like Dolly Parton, and basically does whatever she wants.

She’s my hero.

“She’d put it in her living room,” I laugh.

I’m about to say more when a shadow falls over the door and my throat goes dry.

“You okay?” Chad hesitates.

The bell dings, and Scout appears like a star, stealing all the breath from my lungs.

He’s devastatingly handsome, even more today with the morning sunlight shining behind him, lighting the tips of his golden-brown hair.

He’s only wearing faded blue jeans and a black tee, but he’s so tall with those blue eyes and all that confidence. Muscular arms hang at his sides, and when he smiles, it’s like fireworks in my brain.

All the smart-girl confidence I had as a high school senior, even as a college graduate, desert me in the heat of his presence. I had all the answers back then. Now I never know what to expect from one day to the next.

Chad clears his throat, and I realize an awkward silence has fallen in the store. Scout’s eyes tear away from mine to the uniformed man standing beside him.

“Ah, you must be Chad. That makes more sense.”

“Chad Tucker.” Our friendly sheriff steps forward to shake his hand. “I’m at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don’t know you.”

“Scout Dunne. I’m an old friend of Daisy’s.”

I manage to find my voice. “We went to high school together in Fireside. Senior year.”

“Senior year?” Chad’s eyebrow arches, and I know he knows.

Anyone who spends as much time with Melody as he does can see this is her daddy standing in front of us.

My chin drops, and I add, “We kind of… caught up again after college.”

“Gotcha.” Chad shifts from one foot to the other, moving to the