Bad Boy's Revenge: A Small-Town Romantic Suspense by Sosie Frost Page B

pocket. He had his eyes on you from the beginning, and if I weren’t tethered to this damn oxygen tank I’d take care of him once and for all.”
    “But you liked Maddox.”
    “That was before he almost killed you.”
    “It wasn’t him!”
    “You don’t remember a thing from that night, Jo-Jo. I do. Stay away from him.”
    Granddad coughed again. Too hard. I handed him more water, but he batted it away, accidentally spilling the contents over him and the floor. He swore. It only caused more coughing.
    Would it always be this hard to watch him? To see the man who raised me get sick?
    Get weaker?
    Granddad silenced again. He stared at the TV, but he wasn’t ignoring me or losing himself in the show. His mind was fine , just cluttered with impatience, rage, and…regret?
    Like he wished he hadn’t survived the fire.
    The thought ached in my chest. I cleared my throat, changing the subject.
    “I have a job today,” I said. “I had to make every cookie I know for Nolan Rhys. His campaign fundraiser is today.”
    Granddad fiddled with the remote. “That Nolan. He still pestering you?”
    “You have no idea.”
    “Might be time to consider him.”
    Gag . “No thanks, Granddad.”
    “He’s been after you as long as Maddox.”
    Yeah, but Maddox actually loved me. Nolan? He was evil. Manipulative. Someone who would kill to get what he wanted.
    And no one knew but me.
    “I’m not interested in Nolan,” I said.
    “You’re twenty-two years old. It’s time you start thinking about your future.” Granddad set his jaw. He tapped my hand. “I’m not gonna be here forever. And that candy shop—”
    “We’re gonna rebuild.”
    Granddad didn’t answer, and I wasn’t going to say anything else. My future was buried under twenty-five pound bags of sugar and nothing was going to change that. Not Nolan.
    Not Maddox.
    It was getting late. I leaned over and kissed Granddad’s forehead. Wrinkled. The gray dusted hair that was once midnight black. Everything faded with age. I just hoped he wasn’t giving up. If only he had some faith in the candy shop. Instead, he started to sound like the rest of Saint Christie. They preferred to remember the past while I worked hard for my future.
    Once I proved that Nolan was responsible for the fire, nothing would stop us from rebuilding, forgiving, and starting our real life.
    Then maybe, finally, I could imagine a life with Maddox again.  
    I didn’t know what I dreaded more—Granddad’s silence when I wished him goodbye or Nolan’s campaign event.
    His campaign circus .
    The fundraiser filled the ballroom/continental breakfast hall of the largest motel in Saint Christie. After he bought the majority of rooms in the hotel, he asked for favors from most of the townsfolk to put up more of his campaign organizers. This included decorators who festooned the motel with stars and stripes. The only thing Nolan loved more than the acclaim of the town was his name scrawled in posters throughout Main Street.
    Fortunately, I could duck His Majesty. I waved over the nearest staffer and informed her of the cookie situation unfolding in the back of my car. She and an intern unloaded my trunk, and another passed me an envelope with a check.
    Easier than I thought it’d be.
    “Josie!”
    My skin crawled. The artificial charm slathered over his words, sticking to me like simple syrup left in globs on a counter.
    Nolan approached me with an outstretched arm. At least he shook my hand instead of forcing me into a hug. Not that the handshake was much better. His grip was too firm, too aggressive. His palm swallowed my fingers.
    I got the feeling that he liked that.
    Nolan grinned, baring teeth too sharp for his smile. He might have been handsome if I wasn’t so sure he’d bite me like a jawbreaker just to scrape out the sugar inside.
    “I had hoped to catch you before the fundraiser began.” He hadn’t released my hand. Those blue eyes studied parts of me I wished he wouldn’t imagine.