Breaking Conviction by Greer Rivers

Chapter Six

It took two freakin’ uneventful weeks of excuses to her boss, working from home, icing her wounds on and off, and a shit ton of makeup, but Naomi finally felt confident enough in her own skin to leave the house.

It’d been her first day back to work in person and she’d ambitiously decided it should also be her first official day volunteering at Sasha Saves. Unfortunately, Gail had run her ragged with plans for this stupid party the company was helping to host. It was only an hour and a half into Naomi’s volunteering shift, and already she was rubbing her back, regretting her eagerness to take on everything at once.

“How’re ya likin’ it, sweets? Bet it’s a nice change from sittin’ on your ass behind that reception desk all day long.” Dean’s voice oozed over the phone, totally unaware that he’d just been rude as hell. Hopefully, he was unaware. Maybe he was just a jerk.

Naomi grimaced, trying to think of how to answer. It worked her nerves to talk to him about Sasha Saves. She’d hidden the crown and shoes in Thea’s dress-up clothes, so she’d been able to play off that awful day as one where she’d driven off to think. But ever since she’d told him Gail wanted her to volunteer, Naomi had been on edge that he’d somehow figure out her backup plan.

Dean had been sweet as saccharine since his little outburst—as he’d taken to calling it—and he’d even booked a therapist. He’d said that the only one that could take on a new patient was still booked solid for two whole months. She’d heard that mental health options sucked across the country, but hell, apparently small towns were downright shitty.

“I like it so far,” Naomi finally answered. “Nothin’ too excitin’. I’m glad Thea’s preschool has a night program. Poor thing’d be bored as hell right now since I’m just unloadin’ inventory.” Of course, she could’ve just stayed home, but that hadn’t been an option. “How’s your night out with the boys?”

“It’s good. Had to stop watchin’ the basketball game to talk to you. They’re rivals, so it’s a nail-biter and I’ll probably miss some great plays…”

“Dean, you don’t have to call me every fifteen minutes.”

“Shit, sweets, you’d think you’d be more grateful. This might be the game of the season. And I’m missin’ it for you.”

Oh, God. spare me. Or take me. Either’s fine as long as I don’t have to hear this BS.

She would’ve given anything to give him a taste of that sass, but his voice had an edge she hadn’t heard in weeks. Best to play it safe.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for takin’ the time to check up on me.” Gag. Change the subject. “It’s neat they get donations from people that live in town, but the manager has been able to secure donations of ‘oops’ items from department stores, too. There’s actually some pretty nice stuff in here.”

She dug around the large box and searched the item pictures until she found the right ones for the window display, a pair of periwinkle heels. She placed them in the front window, remembering the green ones Thea had so graciously ‘bought’ for her.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s, uh… interesting. I’m sure y’all are probably raisin’ a ton for those cancer kids. How much did you say they raised last year again?”

Naomi’s heart stuttered. Had his tone gotten even sharper, or was her paranoia kicking in?

“Uh, from my online orientation, I think they’ve only been open for like half a year? But they’ve managed to donate twenty-five thousand dollars so far.”

Dean whistled on the other side. “Hot damn, maybe I need to get in on the thrift store game.”

Of course, he’d see the dollar signs behind the not-for-profit. It was one of the reasons he’d left the Ashland County Sheriff’s Office. AIE Securities and Charitable Technologies International scouted him for the supervisory security role and he jumped ship like a fish off a hook.

“Yeah, I think we’re doin’ pretty good for ourselves, though. Money-wise, I mean.”

“Speaking of doin’ someone good…” His sensual chuckle at what he believed constituted a joke made her grimace at the phone. “I want you to be ready for me when I get home tonight, sweets. It’s been too long since I’ve had you underneath me.”

The entirety of his sentence made bile rise in her throat, especially hearing the name her daddy had used for her momma with such affection. Knowingly or not, Dean had learned to use the endearment as a weapon, slicing through her every time he spoke it. Her revulsion was so strong she’d almost forgotten what he said.

“That sounds great… But oh, dadgummit.” She lowered her voice. Not that anyone else was in there. “I just started today...”

“What? Shit, again? That fuckin’ blows.”

“Yeah… that’s kind of how periods work, unfortunately.” Not.

Thank God for ignorant men. Sometimes it almost seemed like Dean enjoyed making her bleed, but if her body did it on its own, he avoided her like the damn plague. Since she’d gotten an IUD after having Thea, her period had been every twenty-eight days on the dot. She’d had it last week, but fortunately, Dean had still been too apologetic from his “outburst” to touch her. Before their argument, she’d managed to put off sex for a while. She’d always found an excuse: stress, work… Shoot, her period was now coming around practically every other week.

But now she had to be more cautious. Her fibs were one of the reasons why he’d snapped two weeks ago.

She was banking on milking his guilt for all he was worth, and for as long as she could, at least until she could imagine him on top of her without nearly having a panic attack. Even though he’d been better than ever, she wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable with him again. She was starting to wonder if she ever would be.

“Naomi?”

At hearing the new male voice, panic knifed down Naomi’s spine and she spun around to see Wes standing inside the front door. He was a few feet away, but close enough that his body heat warmed her despite the winter chill coming through the open door. His mouth opened, and it took her a second to figure out what to do.

“Wow, you look—”

She slapped her hand over his mouth before he could say anything else.

“Who is that?” The tone on the other end of the phone was gruff and fear twisted to stab through her back and into her heart.

“Uh, he’s no one.” Naomi dropped her hand slowly and gave Wes a pointed look, hoping he’d get the message. “Just the tech guy.”

His blue eyes bore into hers, sparking with an emotion she didn’t fully understand, but felt deep in her core. He kept watching her and pulled his phone from his back pocket before breaking eye contact to type and walk back to the checkout counter.

“—believe you.” Shit. She hadn’t been listening, but Wes had only caught her in his trap for half a second, right? Dean couldn’t have said too much. “Is this so-called tech guy the only other person there?”

“What? No, that’s crazy.” She scanned the empty store. Nora had stepped out for a minute and, of course, that was the time the hot guy with a heart of gold walked through the door. “God no, there’re tons of people here.” Her voice lilted up at the end and she almost cursed into the phone.

God, do I always have to sound like I’m questioning my own lie?

“Men and women?” Dean’s voice was lower, more menacing, and she could imagine him tugging at his dark blond hair. She laughed, sounding like a lunatic to her own ears, but hopefully Dean didn’t notice.

“Both, but there’re no customers.” At least she wasn’t lying there, and she added to her story to further throw him off the scent. “They’re smart enough not to leave me all alone on my first—”

The Sasha Saves phone on the checkout counter rang, making Naomi jump a mile high before she relaxed and silently thanked God.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, I gotta go. I-I’m about to answer my first call for the store.” She fled through the aisles to the ringing phone. “Isn’t that so exciting?”

“Naomi, how many—”

“Sorry, sweets.” The words slithered out of her and she hoped he took the bait. Unlike her, he didn’t have the same hang-ups she did. It’d be different if he’d heard empty apologies as many times as she had, and if he could use the term of endearment as a weapon, she’d wield it like a shield.

The shrill phone snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Shit, really gotta go.”

“Fine, love y—”

Naomi hung up before he could finish his sentence and clutched her phone against her pounding chest, hoping she hadn’t just kicked the hornet’s nest. She’d tell him the connection cut off or a customer came in, so it seemed like an accident. Anything to convince him she hadn’t hung up on him to avoid saying those three words. He’d burned her too many times and she just couldn’t bring herself to say it anymore.

Neither of them had ever truly meant the words, but “I love you” is what people said after they’d been together long enough. Lately, though, keeping up with the lie felt like ash on her tongue.

She took a deep, relaxing breath, composing herself to answer the store phone.

“Sasha Saves Thrift Store, how can I help you?”

“Yes, I was wondering if you could help me find someone.” Wes’s calm baritone flowed over, soothing her nerves like aloe. She darted her eyes up and around to find him casually standing behind the checkout counter, his phone to his ear, and his piercing baby blues analyzing her. “I was hoping to speak to a woman I met a couple of weeks ago. Is she in?” His voice came over the phone speaker as well as in person, and Naomi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back her smirk, nor resist the urge to play along, even if only for a second.

Relax. It’s just a silly prank. Playing along won’t make me fall in love with him, Jesus.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know to whom you are referrin’.”

“Really? You couldn’t miss her. She’s a great mom, sweet Southern accent even when she’s annoyed, and the cutest kid…”

Is this jackass really gonna try to use my daughter to flirt with me when he knows good and well I just got off the phone with another man?

It was official. All men are pigs.

Naomi rolled her eyes again with a sigh and gave him her most unimpressed look as she answered. “Sorry. I checked. She doesn’t want to speak with you. She doesn’t have time for BS.” Then, for good measure, she tilted her head and twisted her mouth. “Can I take a message?”

Wes’s brow furrowed and he shoved his hand into his pocket. “Can you just let her know I’ve been thinking about her and that I hope she’s doing okay? I’ve been worried, but I didn’t want to overstep.”

Naomi’s breath hitched and she hung up the store’s phone, as if it would cut off the very real conversation that was happening in person. How could he make her feel more with just one question than Dean had the entire time they’d been together? When was the last time Dean asked anything about her well-being? Like really asked her without being an ass about it? Let alone cared?

Wes was dangerous. If she didn’t get ahead of her feelings, he was liable to ruin what she had. It wasn’t the best relationship, sure, but she’d promised herself to try again with the father of her child. Thea deserved both parents in her life.

A sliver of doubt snuck into her mind, threatening her with the nightmares she’d had ever since Dean had looked her straight in the eyes as he choked her. In her dreams, a demon took over, ready to suck the life out of her and steal her soul.

She shook her head, reminding herself once again of her goal. It’d be the performance of a lifetime, but if ‘fake it ‘til she made it’ benefited Thea, then the least she could do was try one last time. She’d taken Jules’s advice, defined her line, and written it in stone. Her nightmares would never come to life. She wouldn’t let reality get to that point again. This time, if he so much as raised his hand to her, she’d be out, utilizing everything Sasha Saves had to offer.

Phone back in his pocket, Wes stepped forward and placed his hands wide on the opposite side of the counter. He wasn’t leaning over her, at least not crowding her in the way Dean did, but her skin tingled at Wes’s nearness as she imagined his body caging her in.

She wondered if it would feel like freedom.

“No.” The word whispered out of her, as she tried to deny the vision in her head.

She crossed her arms and tried to step farther away until a hanger poked her back, making her jump. This man was a threat to life as she knew it. She didn’t know how to feel about that.

“No, what?” Wes asked, his icy blue eyes freezing her into place.

“Nothing.” She gave him a pointed look. “You’re a troublemaker, Snake, you know that? What’re you doin’ here, anyhow?”

“Troublemaker, huh?” There was a twinkle in his eye that made her stomach flip. “I kinda like that. But please, call me Wes.”

“I think I’ll stick with Snake. Or Trouble. Both are fitting.”

He sucked his teeth before pointing below the counter. “Well, to answer your question: I came to check the security again. Apparently it’s been acting up.”

“Well, why don’t you go do that then?”

He lifted a shoulder with a snort and dipped his head toward whatever he’d been tinkering on behind the counter. “Already did. Seems Nora didn’t think to just press a damn button.”

Naomi walked around to join him behind the counter and looked down at a black box. The light that had been annoyingly flashing red earlier was now a constant green glow.

She straightened again and tightened her crossed arms. “Fine, does that mean you’re done? I’m obviously very busy.” Realizing too late how empty the store was, she instead grabbed a random piece of paper to wave at him and tried to ignore the lilt in her voice. “So I’d like it if we both went on about our business. Nora just left to run a quick errand, leaving me all by myself on my first day and I have inventory I need to set out. So go on and do whatever you need to do and I’ll do the same.”

Snatching the closest pen, she tapped it against her lips as she studied the prop piece of paper, hoping he’d just go away. But she couldn’t get her mind off how her body thrummed under his gaze, how close he was, how his body trembled with desire just like hers did… until she realized his body wasn’t trembling at all. It was shaking with laughter.

She tossed the pen to the counter with a growl and threw up her hand. “What?”

His smile made her belly flip. Good Lord, she was being so rude to him and he was taking everything she threw at him. Why was he even putting up with her shit?

“It’s just—” He muffled another chuckle with his hand.

“What, Snake? What on God’s green earth is so damn funny?”

His face sobered slightly and his eyes heated. His voice dropped low, and desire made her panties damp as he took a step toward her. “It’s Wes.”

Each inch closer to her made her chest tighten until she was afraid she was going to pass out. His smile widened as he got closer and reached for—

—the piece of paper?

He snatched it from under the pen and waved it back at her. “It seems you happen to be ‘very busy’... with the back of a flyer.” He placed the flyer right-side-up on the counter, proving his point.

The smug jerk crossed his arms before leaning against the counter like only men who were supremely confident in literally everything could do. It was downright infuriating, but he’d caught her fair and square.

She looked down her nose at the paper. “So it is.”

Deciding playing it cool with him wasn’t getting her anywhere, she tightened her lips before marching around the counter and back to the window display. Maybe if she ignored him, she wouldn’t be so tempted to flirt back. She’d wanted to make sure she finished her task before Dean called her for the fourth dadgum time.

“I really do need to shelve inventory and finish this display, so if you insist on bein’ on me like white on rice, at least help.”

Naomi was studiously not looking at him, but she could feel his gaze warm her back. She imagined him rolling his infuriating—heart-stopping—eyes at her with that stupid—sexy—grin and she tried her best to hide the upturned corners of her own lips.

“You might think your attitude is scary, but I don’t think it’s having the effect you’re looking for.”

She opened her mouth to snap at him again, but she kind of liked that he really did seem impervious to her sass. Her parents had taught her to stick up for herself at an early age, and her cheekiness was one of her favorite parts of herself. Why didn’t she use it more often if it made her feel this good?

Because Dean doesn’t like this side of me.

“Trouble, trouble, trouble,” she muttered under her breath. The thought had sobered her, though, and she cleared her throat before resuming her task. She’d just finished setting up the window display when Wes arrived at the store, so she bent to grab the large box of shoeboxes. Before she could, two big hands landed on the sides and picked it up.

“What’re you doin’?” The words rushed out of her.

“You said if I wanted to be around you, I needed to help. So…” He lifted a broad shoulder and smirked. “Where should I put this, love?”