He runs a hand through his hair. She’s backing away from him again. Dammit. “I’m looking at something, not someone. Something, anything else but you.” He won’t let her take another step back, he won’t. He hasn’t been looking at other girls, not once. If he was staring, it wasn’t at them, it was through them. There are no other girls. There is only her. He closes the space between them yet again, pulling her back into his arms. She tries to wriggle free, but he will not—cannot—allow it. Not until she hears what he has to say. She can make a scene if she wants to. He won’t back down. Not now. “I’m in love with you, Carly.”
His confession shuts down the hissy fit she was about to throw right here in the waiting room. He traces his fingers along her lips as they quiver under the weight of his words. He’s glad she realizes how profound they are, coming from him.
“You are?” she says, eyes round and wide.
Arden nods, sucking in a breath. “How can you not know that?”
She nestles against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. It’s the best feeling in the world. It’s like being embraced by bliss. “If my family wasn’t at stake, I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you,” she says, her voice vulnerable.
“It’s the same with me. Did Cletus tell you? Dad threatened me with your parents. He’ll send them back.”
She presses her cheek into his chest. “I know.”
“If not for all that, I’d tell him to go to—”
“I wouldn’t finish that sentence, if I were you.” They both turn to face Sheriff Moss in all his rage veiled by a thin mask of indifference.
The large room seems to shrink. His father’s presence, especially right now, is a smothering force. Arden’s lungs feel heavy. What will his father say? What will he do? Surely nothing, in front of all these witnesses. “Kindly unhand Miss Vega, son. Miss Vega, you’re free to go.”
Carly pulls away as if Arden had burned her. This nearly kills him. “I was just, I’m the one who called the ambulance,” Carly says, a tremor visibly running through her. “I wanted to make sure Clet—Mr. Shackleford—was okay.”
The sheriff’s indifferent expression doesn’t change. He doesn’t even look at her. He keeps his eyes strictly on Arden as he says, “I said you’re free to go, Miss Vega. Now.”
She bites her lip. “If it’s okay with you, sir, I’d like to stay until we get word on Mr. Shackleford.”
Finally, his dad looks at her, steel in his eyes. “Do tell your brother I said hello.”
And just like that, Carly’s face falls. Hurriedly, she collects her purse and walks out. Every step she takes pounds in Arden’s head.
His father fixes his glare back on Arden, closing the distance between them in three loud, militaristic strides. Then he makes it a point to soften his expression. “Son, have you heard any word on your uncle? Your mother called me. I came as soon as I could. She should be here any minute.”
Arden knows his mother didn’t call. The news had spread over the police scanner. Cletus is the sheriff’s uncle, if only by marriage. If an ambulance was called for him, his father would know about it in about ten seconds.
Stupid, stupid, Arden thinks. As soon as he saw Carly he should have told her to leave. He shouldn’t have indulged in her company, shouldn’t have risked her family’s safety like that. He should have known his dad would show up, even though he despises Cletus. It’s all about appearances. Especially since tonight is the memorial for Amber’s death. Now he’s had to make a hospital visit to ill family, in addition to giving a speech about how he misses his daughter later this evening. The crowd will practically be eating out of his hands.
Even now, he’s acting like Father of the Year. But Arden will have none of it. He wants to stay and see how Cletus is, but he can’t stand the thought of remaining under his father’s scrutiny any longer. He thinks his uncle would understand. “She was here for Uncle Cletus,” Arden says, keeping his voice low. “Not for me.”
His father arranges a pleasant smile on his face, tucking away his fury for a more private setting, Arden is sure. Even his voice is monotone when he says, “You can see how I might have trouble believing you.” As far as the spectators are concerned, he just made mention of the weather or the number of patients in the waiting room.
“It’s the truth. I swear to you, I’m staying away from her.”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
“You’ll see that nothing happened here.”
The sheriff offers a slight nod. It’s the best he’s going to get, Arden realizes. Who knows how long his father intends to keep him in suspense. But at least Arden is showing a cooperative attitude. It’s all he can do to fix this, to make it better.
No, that’s not true. Instant nausea overcomes him. I can do more.
He clasps his father’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here, Dad,” he says loudly. Then he brings a very surprised sheriff in for a hug. “I expected you to be making the last few arrangements for Amber’s memorial.”
The waiting-room audience might as well be passing around a tissue box. The sympathy is almost palpable here. Arden wants to yell at them, to scream at them for being such naïve little fools.
His father pats him on the back before separating himself from the embrace. “Everything’s going to be okay, son,” Sheriff Moss says, his voice resonating throughout the room. He can’t quite hide the astonishment in his eyes though. This is the most Arden has ever given him, since way before Amber’s funeral, and they both know it. “You’re probably worn out from football practice, aren’t you? Listen, why don’t you run on home and get showered for tonight? I’ll stay here until we get word on your uncle.”