Gone From Me: Hearts of the South, Book 10 Read Online Free Page B

outside. Oppressive heat instantly wrapped her in a wet, woolen blanket. Sucking in as deep a breath as the humidity would allow, Amy swiped a finger across her phone screen and brought up an empty text message. With one hand, she typed out a quick message to Rob, asking about his lunch plans, telling him where she was. She hesitated, then typed before she could change her mind.
    I’d like to see you. I love you.
    She sent the message and hurried to catch up to the others. Near the diner’s doorway, Madeline and Cook chatted with a dark-haired plainclothes cop.
    “…telling you, I wouldn’t have blamed the guy for beating the living shit out of him.” The tall cop tugged a hand through his hair. “I’m still not sure I did the right thing sending him back out on the road, but when he told me why, I kind of got it. I’d have been pissed as hell too, and the kid held it together. I’ve got a call in to the GSP Post commander.”
    Amy tapped Madeline’s shoulder. “I’m going to wash up.”
    Inside, the diner was blessedly cool but noisy with chatter and heavy with the aroma of hot grease. Amy ducked down the short hallway to the ladies’ room. She passed a hand over her phone, which lay silent and still in her pocket. Maybe he was busy.
    Her eyes burned, and she met her shiny gaze in the mirror. Red tear blotches bloomed on her nose and cheeks.
    “Who are you kidding?” she whispered. “He’s not going to answer you.”
    She turned on the water and splashed her wrists, cheeks and eyes. She needed a plan. Find him after work, take him somewhere for dinner that offered a modicum of privacy yet ensured he’d have to tune in to them. That could work, except every time she tried to get him out of the house lately, he cried off, claiming fatigue. Getting him to go to dinner the night before had taken everything but an Act of Congress.
    And look how well that had turned out.
    After drying her hands and face with a rough paper towel, she stepped out.
    “Amy.” Jake pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning and touched her arm. “We need to talk.”
    Was he serious ? Amy shook off his gentle hand. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
    “I tried to talk to Rob earlier.”
    “What?” The remnants of that overheard conversation between the two cops outside rose in her mind, and she groaned. They’d been talking about Jake and Rob. Oh, Lord help us, not on his first day .
    “All I did was show up as backup on a traffic stop.” Jake rested his hands at his hips. “Tried to talk to him, and he went ballistic.”
    “Rob went ballistic. Right.” Cool, calm, always collected Rob. He’d even been that cool last night.
    “It doesn’t matter anyway.” Urgency colored Jake’s tone. He curved his hands around her shoulders. “Listen, Amy, we have to talk about us—”
    “There is no us.” She shrugged him off, looking beyond his shoulder at the diner, crowded with lunchtime patrons, including her partner and two of Rob’s new coworkers. She could take him if she had to, and she wasn’t above yelling for help. One thing was for damn sure—she wouldn’t give him another opportunity to get close enough to touch. “I can’t believe you. You’re supposed to be our friend. You were one of Rob’s groomsmen at our wedding—”
    “I don’t want to be your friend.” Jake’s mouth twisted. “I want to be more. I can be what you want, give you what you want. Rob can’t do that.”
    She wasn’t going to dignify that with a reply, and she wasn’t going to stand there and listen to him any longer. The black dots of fury danced before her eyes, and she shouldered past him. She swung the diner door open harder than necessary, the summer heat outside no match for the fiery anger swirling through her.
    Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she snatched it free. Rob’s photo and number glowed on the screen, and she swiped to answer, her hands shaky. “Hello?”
    “Hey. Got your text.” Rob’s