Page 4 of True Ruin

“Grew up good, didn’t he? The True men never fail to deliver, and I should know since I married the sexiest of the bunch.” Lainey fanned her face with a Wilder Grounds menu. After returning to town and rekindling things with her high school love, she and Justin were living in wedded bliss. “Dallas says he’s only home to rehab a busted ankle. But I think his boss didn’t give him much choice, though he’s keeping why close to the vest, like always. Funny, I figured you’d heard, the way this town talks.”

Gabi shrugged, tossing the crumpled napkins into the trash. It was silly to wish she’d spent more time on her makeup or done something with her hair besides pull it into another lazy ponytail. She was months overdue for a cut and highlights, too. She brushed her knuckles across her chin. Of course today would be the day she had a zit. “He was two years behind me, so we didn’t exactly run in the same circles. I’m hardly at the top of the gossipmongers’ update list.”

Because no one knew about the kiss that had gone from innocent to unforgettable between one breath and the next. A charged moment she still thought about, though she knew better.

Sparkle—the name he’d given her that night—skipped across her mind like a pebble over water.

Despite herself, her gaze drifted back to the man who looked capable of breaking a woman’s heart, then casually handing back the pieces. The last thing Gabi needed. As if he’d heard the thought, Dallas frowned and scrubbed a hand over his cropped hair, the motion pulling at something deep inside her. Dying sunlight flashed off the frame of his sunglasses, and for a split second, she imagined she could see his eyes behind the lenses. Bottle green, they’d always seemed focused on nothing and everything at once.

Oh, did she remember those eyes.

As if the evening needed any help turning melancholy, the band in the square struck up an acoustic version of “Landslide.” She’d fallen hard for Fleetwood Mac that long-ago summer, when she’d found a forlorn boy sitting alone on the bleachers behind the high school, a book in his hand, the night thick with honeysuckle and possibility. One of the few times in her life she’d acted on impulse, leaning in and kissing him. The shy, brilliant teenager who’d written about the world as if his words mattered, at least to him.

Clearly, they had. He’d turned his youthful passion into something real, while she’d spent every day fighting not to disappear beneath the weight of everyone else’s expectations.

As she stared, twilight crept in, softening the square’s hard edges into blue-gray shadow, and Gabi’s thoughts strayed where they hadn’t gone in an eternity. She had no interest in dating, but she was more than ready forsex. Her vibrator did the job, but not like the real thing. Her gaze fell to Dallas’s long fingers curled around his bottle, searching for a ring. A single-girl habit. There wasn’t one. And he’d be gone soon, which made him the safest kind of temptation.

A temporary one.

Not that it mattered, Gabi told herself, as Dallas True collected appreciative once-overs from every woman who walked past.

He was out ofherleague now.

Bothered for no good reason, Gabi stripped off her sweater, grateful she’d worn a tank beneath it and stashed a spare Wilder Grounds sweatshirt in the truck. The breeze skimmed her bare shoulders, soothing skin still warm with a need she had no business entertaining.

“Do you ever wonder what life outside Promise looks like?” she asked Lainey, trying to steer her focus anywhere else.

“I used to. Until I stopped running.” Lainey’s gaze slid toward Dallas and back again. “Justin says his brother’s seen some hard things.”

Something about that tugged at her. “And somehow, he made his way home.”

Across the square, Dallas reached behind him for something on the truck bed. A book, because of course he’d have one. He flipped it open with the same distracted grace that used to drive teachers insane. Who brought a novel to an outdoor festival? He’d been like that in high school, unapologetically himself at an age when being different could get you eaten alive.

She hoped her son, Sam, would stay that true to himself when the time came.

A knot of men walking by the food truck caught her attention. Theo and his squad, loud, grating, far too sure of themselves. They wandered toward Dallas, tossing glances her way as they went, the kind that told her exactly what they were saying. Gabi’s stomach tightened as her fingers closed around her sweater. Everyone blamed her for calling it quits, not him for cheating.

Dallas didn’t look up from his book, but something in him shifted, like he’d caught the group’s intent, if not the conversation.

Seconds later, Theo said something sharper, and his friends snorted.

And Dallas moved.

He slipped off the tailgate and reached for his crutch, the motion smooth enough to look accidental. As he angled forward, the rubber tip slid into her ex’s path. Theo stumbled, catching himself with a hard, graceless step, nearly dropping to his knees. Dallas shrugged and settled back against the tailgate with a bland expression. His lips moved in what might have been an apology, but his insolent sprawl belied any hint of regret.

A provocation Theo would’ve once met without hesitation.

Bullies liked conflict, she’d learned, but only when they were sure they’d win.

But the man Theo confronted was no longer thatlanky True castoff. The scar along his temple and the hard slant of his smile marked him as a man you might want to think twice about crossing. And Gabi was going to hell, because she loved it.

Anyway, it soon turned into a family thing.

Justin and Campbell had crossed the square at the first sign of trouble, stopping on either side of the truck. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to. They had his back, whether he’d asked for it or not. A charged silence stretched between them as Theo glanced at his buddies, recalibrating. Then he jerked his chin and walked away, not quite backing down but not stepping forward either.

Gabi let out a breath, realizing Dallas’s interference had likely spared her another pointless but public run-in with her ex. Co-parenting required enough contact already; she didn’t need Theo invading one of her rare nights of peace when Sam was at a sleepover.

At the exact moment she was silently thanking him, Dallas glanced over.