Free Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select) by Shannon Leigh

Excruciating vulnerability.
    The young woman behind the checkout glanced down at her battered bag of bagels. “This don’t look so good. You want me to call for another?”
    “No, I battered it, I’ll take it,” she said, discouraging further attention. She didn’t want any more excitement today.
    The cashier shrugged and passed the bag across the scanner.
    Lila wrote a check for the total and handed it over, anxious to put distance between herself and Casler.
    The cashier’s pregnant belly swelled above the counter and the woman placed a protective hand over the mound as she leaned forward across the low counter to examine the check. Lila felt a slight pinch in her chest. She would not be jealous of this poor pregnant woman, working for minimum wage, in the tiny town of Hannington!
    So why did she choose that moment to touch her own flat stomach?
    “This is an out-of-town check.”
    She looked blankly at the woman, hoping to encourage an explanation for the obvious statement. “It is,” she said finally, realizing the conversation was going nowhere.
    “I can’t accept out-of-town checks. I’ll have to get the manager.” She pushed back from the counter before Lila could stop her, grabbing the store intercom microphone roughly by the neck. “Check approval on two!”
    Lila smiled apologetically at the man in line behind her. And she spotted John Casler standing two people back.
    He shifted his bread and beer to the other arm and smiled slowly, letting her know she’d won. For the moment.
    She scanned the faces around him, noting the barely veiled looks of scorn and wariness the other shoppers cast his way. Casler pretended not to notice and kept smiling at her. And only at her. But Lila knew he sensed their disapproval. She could tell by his slightly flaring nostrils and rigid posture.
    Looked like she and the man had more in common than a friendship with Jake. He apparently knew a little bit about being an outcast, too.
    Facing forward again, she saw the manager lumber out of the customer service booth, making his way to the register. He wore a faded green apron, smeared with dirty streaks of red, which Lila hoped were not bloodstains.
    He stood next to the cashier examining the highly suspicious document on the counter. Lila’s check.
    The manager’s head shot up suddenly, his brown eyes pinning her across the checkout counter. Oh, hell, here it comes.
    “Are you Barbara Gentry’s granddaughter?”
    “I am.”
    “I didn’t recognize you. It’s been a while.”
    Ten years. “It has.”
    A moment of silence reigned as Lila committed a sin against good Texas manners: she didn’t small-talk. Guilt and doubt threatened to choke her, she wanted to be gracious and polite, but she simply wasn’t ready.
    Not with Casler standing there, watching her from the back of the line. She needed more time to regain her balance, her poise, and her backbone. She was at the mercy of Hannington, under a giant microscope with the entire town picking her apart. Sweat trickled down her back.
    She threw off the mantle of doubts and plastered a smile on her face. “I’m visiting Granny and helping her out while she has a broken arm”—she read the name on his manager tag—“Randy. It’s good to see you again. How’s your family?”
    He proceeded to tell her about his mother, the town librarian Lila remembered as mean and rail-thin, while he took down the vitals off her license.
    “This check is good.” He passed it back to the cashier who rang it in. “I heard you’re gonna buy that ole candy store across the street.”
    Good grief, news traveled fast in this town.
    “Yes.” She smiled at Randy, hoping he’d get a clue from her one-word answer.
    “Lotta interestin’ history turning up lately. I heard the ole gal that once ran a whorehouse there married a big rancher around here. Pierce. Big cattleman back in the day. Course, mosta the ranch has been divvied up, but it useta be a big place, way back