I didn’t care if he wasn’t my boyfriend. He was still mine, in a way, even if we were just friends.
“That woman needs a solid dose of Bootleg Justice,” Leah Mae said.
I couldn’t have agreed more.
Leah Mae and Scarlett chatted a while longer—mostly about Leah Mae and Jameson’s wedding plans. I wandered through the store, looking at clothes. I really did need a few new things. I didn’t own a lot of clothes, mostly because I hadn’t had a permanent place to live for so long. I didn’t own a lot of anything. Living out of a suitcase didn’t leave room for many belongings.
Running my fingers over the soft fabric of a floral dress, I imagined my clothes hanging in a closet, my things folded neatly and tucked away in drawers that smelled like cedar. What would that be like? To have a home again? To belong somewhere?
I liked my life. I’d made a career for myself in music, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. I enjoyed traveling, touring, meeting new people, seeing new places.
But Jenny had been right. I’d spent a long time running.
The door swung open and Gibson poked his head in. “Finished. You ready?”
“That was fast.” Scarlett smirked at him. “I guess you couldn’t wait to get back to your girlfriend.”
He glared at her.
I laughed softly. “Almost ready. I’m just going to get this.”
Gibson stepped inside and let the door shut behind him. He had a bag that said The Rusty Tool in his hand. Leah Mae and Scarlett seemed to share a look, but Leah Mae just took the dress and scanned the tag.
“I’ll give you the family discount,” she said with a wink.
“Thanks.” I paid and she handed me a cute little shopping bag.
A group of girls—probably high school age—came in, giggling and talking. Gibson appeared to ignore them. In fact, he appeared to be ignoring everyone except me.
“Bye, ladies,” I said and headed for the door.
“See y’all later,” Scarlett said. “Thanks for the mini-shopping trip, Maya. Have fun with your girlfriend, Gibs.”
Gibson grumbled as he took my hand and led me out the door.
13
GIBSON
The trip into town yesterday had done its job, solidifying Callie’s identity as Maya. Grudgingly, I had to admit that Scarlett loud-mouthing her name on the street had been effective. And with my family all confirming the story, Bootleg Springs was not only convinced, they were too distracted by the fact that I supposedly had a girlfriend to question her name.
It also seemed to have taken the attention off my visit to the sheriff’s office, and those pictures I’d been carrying in my wallet.
Her secret was safe, for now.
Cassidy had passed the truth about Callie on to her dad, and he’d called me to ask some questions. He told me straight that his first priority was keeping her safe. Made me feel better about cooperating with him. We’d agreed that it would be best if he met with Callie at his house, under the auspices of dinner, rather than at the station. Dinner with the Tuckers wouldn’t raise eyebrows, whereas the new girl in town meeting with the sheriff in his office would.
For now, we just needed to lay low and keep up the pretense that we were dating. I’d have been happy to hunker down here and ignore the town. But I knew that if we didn’t show our faces, it would start feeding the rumor mill again. I didn’t need half the town claiming I was holding her hostage.
Which was why I was standing in my living room, wearing my best jeans and boots, waiting for a girl I wasn’t dating to finish getting ready. For our date.
I looked out the window, my arms crossed, feeling nervous as hell. Why? No idea. We were just grabbing dinner at Moonshine—not even a fancy date. Then Scarlett was having a bonfire out at her place. The new house she and Devlin were building would be done before next summer, so she wanted to get in some more bonfires at her lake cottage while they were still living there.
Nothing to be nervous about. It wasn’t even a real date. And since when did I get nervous about a girl? Since never.
Callie came out of my room wearing a floral dress. It had thin straps and stopped just above her knees, showing a lot of tanned skin—not to mention those sexy-ass tattoos. Her thick, multicolored hair fell in waves down her back and she’d put on bright lipstick and a pair of