His words were lost on me.

I continued to stand.

I continued to stare.

But my lungs had started burning.

If I didn’t know you were worth it…

“When’s Ethan’s next sleepover?” Merry bit out.

“Friday,” I whispered. “But his friend’s comin’ here.”

“Fuck,” Merry clipped. “Find a time, babe. You don’t, payback’ll stack up and I’ll have to take personal days and hole up in a hotel with you for a week. And there’s not a doubt that stick-up-her-ass church lady your ex tied his shit to won’t appreciate you bein’ gone from your kid for a weeklong fuckathon.”

That was kind of funny as well as hot.

I still said nothing.

Merry fell silent and stared at me.

Then he dealt the second biggest verbal blow I’d ever received in my life.

“Christ, you’re pretty, even standin’ there plotting my murder.”

After that, he lifted a hand, grabbed me gentle but firm at my neck, yanked me up so my mouth hit his hard but brief, then he let me go.

“Later, babe,” he said, strolling to my door. He stopped in it, turned to me, and bid his farewell by saying, “You touch those storms only to put them in the garage.”

He closed the door on that.

I stood where he left me.

If I didn’t know you were worth it…

What was I worth?

What was I worth to Merry?

I stared at the door, again breathing but not knowing what to think.

Not even knowing what was happening.

How had it gone from a drunken fuck, after which he was going to blow me off, to him investigating Trent and Peggy, demanding I find a time when I could offer his brand of payback, and him not only telling me I was pretty, but I was “worth it?”

It would seem me and Merry had to have a chat where we were not fighting or talking about my ex and his bitch’s diabolical plans.

And I would suggest just that to him later, when he’d cooled down and when we were both far apart from each other.

I left the storm windows where they were. Merry wanted to put them in, at that juncture, I was not going to test his mood by going against his wishes.

Instead, I went to the laptop me and Ethan shared.

I powered that baby up.

Then I found Riverside Baptist Church and its program Faith Saves. I read every word.

Twice.

* * * * *

“Takin’ my last break,” I told Jack, who was behind the bar.

“Make it a good one,” Jack replied.

I said nothing and went to the office.

Mondays during the day were not big days at J&J’s. We had the odd drifter. Weather allowed, we had biker boys who knew J&J’s was welcoming, so if they slid through town, they’d stop to play a couple of games of pool and throw back some brews. We had regulars with no jobs but the miraculous ability to buy drinks.