Beth Andrews - A Not-So-Perfect Past

And he hadn’t had any real friends since before he’d been sent away. He didn’t want to do anything to ruin his friendship with Allie.

He wasn’t really surprised Nina was kicking him out. Ever since she’d bought the bakery from her grandparents, he’d known this day was coming. He supposed after having it not come for so many months, he’d grown complacent. Too comfortable. Too secure.

No, this wasn’t something to get angry about or fight over. This was an opportunity. Or fate’s way of telling him to get his ass in gear and get out of Serenity Springs.

He placed the eviction notice in the envelope and tucked it in his back pocket. “I’ll be out after Kelsey’s wedding,” he promised before pushing open the kitchen door.

“You don’t have to move out so soon,” Nina said, following him into the dining room. “You can stay the full thirty—”

“No need.” He grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and put it on. “Besides, I’m sure you want to get started on that tea room as soon as possible.”

“Of course I do,” she said unconvincingly. “It’s just I don’t want to rush you. It might be difficult to find another place in two weeks—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He pulled his hat on. “I’m not going to.”

He reached for the door when it swung open. Nina’s kids, Hayley and Marcus, came barreling inside. The little girl spotted Dillon immediately and skidded to a stop. Unfortunately, Marcus kept going, plowing into his sister and knocking her down.

Sitting on the floor, Hayley’s lower lip quivered and her eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t make a sound.

“Honey, are you okay?” Nina asked, bending to pick up her daughter. Dillon couldn’t help but notice her shapely backside.

“Everything all right in here, Nina?”

Trey Carlson, Nina’s pretty-boy ex-husband, stood in the open doorway. And from the expression on the guy’s face, he’d noticed Dillon checking out his ex-wife.

Great.

Before Nina could answer, Dillon zipped up his coat and said, “If that’s all you wanted, I’m heading out.”

“Oh. Yes, that’s all.” She looked like she wanted to say something else but didn’t. Her daughter had her face buried in Nina’s neck. Her son had taken off his hat and his pale blond hair stuck up all around his head. The boy’s eyes were huge in his round face as he sidled next to his mother and put his arm around her leg.

“Thanks for lunch.” A stupid thing to say considering she’d only fed him so he’d stick around long enough to be evicted.

At the door, Carlson blocked his way. Perfect. Just what he needed. A pissing contest with the town’s self-important, arrogant psychologist.

Dillon didn’t move. And he sure wasn’t going to say “excuse me” or anything civil to this guy. Carlson had made his displeasure about Dillon living above the bakery known to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’d even written an article for the Gazette about the psychology of a killer.

It hadn’t taken much to deduce which particular killer he was referring to.

After a long, silent stare-down, Carlson stepped aside.

Dillon smirked. Yeah. That’s what he thought. All flash. No substance.

He lowered his head against the driving snow and walked around the building to the entrance to his apartment.

He couldn’t wait to get as far from Serenity Springs as possible.

THE MUSIC SWITCHED to Bing Crosby crooning “White Christmas.” The sentimentality of it would’ve fit Nina’s current circumstances perfectly—snow was falling, Christmas was approaching and she was with her kids. Except she was also with Trey. The man she once thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. The man she had once been afraid she’d never escape.

Trey took his time closing the door and brushing the snow off his shoulders. Closing in on forty, he could pass for ten years younger. Nina wondered if his patients knew their psychologist was afraid of growing older—or at least, looking older—so much that he had his tawny hair professionally highlighted once a month.

Or that he went to a salon two towns away to keep them from finding out.

But not even a bit of gray or the few lines bracketing Trey’s blue eyes could detract from his movie-star looks with his conservative haircut, perfect tan, suede jacket and dark designer jeans. And he still had the sense of privilege and entitlement he’d had when they’d first met ten years ago.

At nineteen she’d been way too young. Too young, naive and, if she was honest with herself, stupid to ever get involved with Serenity Springs’ supposed golden boy.

Live and learn.

“Nina, put her down,” Trey said in what she thought of as his professional voice—soft and carefully modulated. “You know tears are a self-indulgent luxury. Coddling only encourages her self-indulgence.”

Nina smoothed a hand over Hayley’s back. Her daughter still clung to her but at least she’d stopped crying. “I’m comforting her—not coddling. She’s hurt.”

“She hurt her pride more than her backside.” He reached for Hayley. Short of using her daughter in a game of tug-of-war, Nina had no choice but to let her go. Trey set her on the floor and laid a hand on her head. “You’re fine, aren’t you, princess?”

Hayley sniffed. “Yes, Daddy.”

Trey winked at her. “That’s my girl. Now, go into the kitchen with your brother. I need to speak to your mom. Alone.”

Nina forced a smile. “If you wash your hands, you may each have one cookie. One. Understand?” They nodded. “Good. Now say goodbye to your father.”

Hayley threw her arms around Trey’s legs and tipped her head back, her lips puckered. “Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, princess.” Trey kissed her and patted her back before disentangling himself from her hold to accept Marcus’s quick, one-armed hug. “Goodbye, son. Next weekend remember to bring your math book.”

“Okay,” Marcus mumbled. “See ya.”

“Nina,” Trey said when the kitchen door swung shut behind Marcus, “cookies so close to dinner time?”

Her back to him, she rolled her eyes. “One cookie isn’t going to spoil their appetites. Besides, we’re eating at my parents’ so dinner will be a little later.”

He sighed, his you’re-such-a-trial-to-me sigh. “I don’t like them out late on school nights. You know that.”

Yeah. She knew. She knew how he felt about all of her transgressions, each one of her faults and her many failings.

Trey was nothing if not vocal in his opinions.

She began to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear but stopped at Trey’s disdainful expression. During their marriage, she’d straightened her hair and pulled it back into a low ponytail because that’s how he’d liked it. But their marriage ended long ago and she’d be damned if she’d give him any more control over her life.

She twisted the loose strands around her finger. “They need to see their grandparents and aunts and uncles. And this is the only night that works for everyone. They’ll be home and in bed at their regular bedtimes.”

“I hope so. I wasn’t happy with Marcus’s last report card. A boy that bright getting a B in math…”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt his chances of getting into a good college. Besides, he’s doing his best—”

“No, he isn’t. Clearly. He can do much better.”

And didn’t that sum up every problem she and Trey had had during their marriage? She’d done her best to please him, to make him happy. And it had never been good enough. He’d found her lacking. Her looks. Her intelligence. Her mothering skills. Even her skills in the bedroom.

“We met with his teacher, she said Marcus is doing fine—”