Page 21 of Meet Me in Ivy Falls

I began to pace the lawn. Kicking at dry weeds and dirt clods and cursing under my breath, which earned me a few dark looks from the guy mowing his lawn across the street. Even the house made an accusing creak like it thought I’d acted like a total asshole.

Part of me ached to get in the car and drive straight to Diego’s. Tell him that I wanted to get rid of the house no matter how much it cost me. But my commitment to Piper wouldn’t let me give up that easily. She needed this house.

I looked at my watch.

Nine a.m.

If Torran was the same creature of habit, I knew exactly where she was headed. I jogged to my car and sped away from the house hoping my intuition was right.

Chapter Ten

TORRAN

You Wanna Piece of Me? Well, I Wanna Piece of Cake.

The scent of cinnamon, sugar and rising dough hit me the minute I walked inside the Sugar Rush Café. Blood still boiled in my veins, and the only thing that could calm me down was a combination of my two favorite things: caffeine and carbs.

Two little boys scanned the long glass case near the cash register. Pastries and donuts lined each of the six shelves. The boys argued over which was better: rainbow or chocolate sprinkles. It was the same argument my nieces had every time I brought them here.

Once the boys made up their minds, and their mother ordered an extra-large coffee (amen), it was my turn.

‘Hey, Barb. Love the sign outside.’

This week her hair was piled up in a beehive and colored a deep shade of peach. She smirked. ‘The credit has to go to Susan on that one. You know how she loves her cakes.’

When Miss Pat, who’d owned Sugar Rush for over two decades, retired last year, Barb and her wife, Susan, roared into town on their Harleys and bought the place. At first people were a little resistant to them being outsiders, but once they started serving up the best donuts, cakes and practically sinful pastries, people warmed to them quickly. Because they did not bleed loyalty to Ivy Falls, they were practically the only people in town who didn’t sneer when I came in close proximity.

‘Burn yourself on the fryer again?’ I said, pointing to the white bandage covering most of her forearm.

‘No. New tattoo. This one is a mermaid with shimmering scales.’ Her eyes scanned me for a long minute. ‘Want your regular order?’ she asked.

‘Yep,’ I said, readjusting the khaki satchel on my shoulder. Once I had left Beck behind, I turned up the radio and screamed out all my fury along with the pounding beats of the Foo Fighters. I was a damn grown woman but he still could make me act and feel like I was seventeen again. And did he really think he could sweet-talk me into helping him with the house? Just thinking about it made my blood pressure spike again.

‘You okay, sweetie?’ Barb narrowed her kohl-rimmed eyes.

‘I’m fine,’ I said, plastering a smile on my face. If Tessa was here, asked me about my number, I’d probably say minus-two and dropping at this point.

‘Well, then a large coffee and two crullers are coming right up.’

‘Thanks,’ I managed to breathe out.

The small café with its black metal tables, white penny tile and bright pink wallpaper was usually the hub of the town. A place where people gathered to have small talk, read the paper, enjoy a cup of coffee, but it was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday morning.

‘Hey, Torran.’ Susan appeared at the counter and handed me my food. Her short bob was raven-black and she was barely tall enough to hand the paper bag over the counter to me. Her eyes darted around the room before she leaned in. ‘Heard you didn’t get the house on Huckleberry Lane. Sorry ’bout that.’

Ah yes. Small-town gossip. Faster than a bullet train.

‘It’s okay. There are other houses,’ I said with a little too much acid in my voice. Even in one of my favorite spots in town, I couldn’t get away from Beck.

The bell on the front door jingled and both Barb and Susan’s eyes narrowed into the you’re-a-stranger-to-Ivy-Falls stare.

‘Here, let me pay for her food.’

Beck stepped up behind me and pushed a twenty across the counter.

‘Tor, you know this guy?’ Barb eyed Beck like he was a stray puppy who might need a home.

‘Unfortunately,’ I said, spinning around and practically slamming into Beck’s wide chest. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’