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Read With Your Heart: a small town romance

Page 6

by L. B. Dunbar


  “Don’t ask.” I patronizingly pat his hand. I’m in this position when the front door to the bar opens and in walks Trent with another woman wrapped around his waist, and I freeze. My fingers curl over Leon’s wrist, digging into his skin as they did the night Trent followed me to the alley. I won’t be rushing off again, especially if Trent might give chase again.

  Our table grows silent as Trent enters, and Baz speaks directly to Trent from behind the bar.

  “No trouble tonight or you’re out,” the bald man behind the bar warns his newest customer. Trent salutes him and then his eyes find me and fall to my hand on Leon.

  I should remove my fingers. I don’t know why I’m gripping a stranger, only I can’t seem to let go of him, and then Leon does the strangest thing. He sits back, a vision of casual and calm. He covers the back of my hand with his and moves it to his thigh. Then he lays his arm on the back of my chair. Trent’s eyes narrow, and Leon curls his fingers into the ends of my long hair. It’s possessive, and it’s freaking sexy.

  I should be asking Leon what the hell he thinks he’s doing, but Trent hasn’t moved. The woman with him slinks around him to talk to someone at the bar, oblivious to the tension coming from our table. Leon reaches forward for his beer with one hand acting like it’s totally normal that the fingers on his other hand are wrapped in the ends of my hair while his arm lays on the back of my chair.

  “Oh my,” Karyn whispers beside me, and I want to turn my head to look at her, but I can’t move. I’m locked in the cobra stare Trent has on me. The one he’s used countless times to get what he wanted or do what he willed. I can’t seem to break from it, but I feel my fingers curling into Leon’s thigh, my nails digging into the dark denim and thick muscle.

  Leon leans toward me, his breath brushing the side of my face.

  “A man could get jealous, his girl checking out another man in this place.”

  I swallow. He can’t mean me. I’m not his girl.

  “What is it, pretty lady?” he says to me, his voice a kiss against the clammy skin of my cheek.

  Licking my lips to fight the dry feeling in my mouth, I finally pull away from Trent’s gaze to find Leon’s mouth hardly an inch from mine.

  “I don’t like him.” I sound like a child. Trent Walker was mean to me. The tattletale voice mocks me. You wanted to hang with the boys, Trent’s voice retorts back in my head. I no longer want to be with him. I thought he wanted to be with me because he understood me, but I learned too late he didn’t understand me at all. It turns out, I didn’t know him either.

  “Don’t like him staring at you,” Leon says, his voice dropping deeper. My eyes watch Leon’s lips, feeling the pressure of my family suddenly watching us.

  “I don’t know how to make him go away,” I whisper.

  “I do,” he says. His mouth brushes mine. It’s more a swipe, like a paintbrush’s first touch on the canvas, but it’s firm enough as he passes over my mouth that the burn blazes a lingering trail.

  Do it again, my head screams.

  “Um . . .” Jess clears his throat.

  “That was epic,” Tom cheers with a clap-clap, and I pull away from Leon, startled myself. Turning to Karyn, I tenderly tickle my fingers over my lips as if something visibly remains. I don’t want to wipe it away, but I wonder if they can physically see his kiss on me.

  “What happened?” I ask her, holding her eyes.

  “I think Leon just pissed Trent off.”

  My head swings back to the front door to find Trent and his date gone. Leon leans forward, slipping his arm over my head and returning his hands to his lap. His eyes lock with Jess’s.

  “Sorry about that, man.” He scrubs a hand down his face.

  “Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to her.” Jess tips his beer toward me as his brow pinches together. “Or maybe not . . .” His voice drifts as he stares at me. I have no idea what my expression must read.

  Leon turns back to me. “I’m sorry about that. Just wanted him to step back.”

  I wave a hand, a schoolgirl giggle in my throat. “Oh, that’s okay.” That’s okay that you kissed me. In front of my family. In the crowded bar. Where we explained that we just met.

  That’s okay, I lie to myself as I realize that brush on my lips was better than any kiss I’ve ever had, and I’ll never be the same again.

  Lesson 9

  Home can be filled with troubled hearts.

  [Leon]

  From the moment I saw her, I’d known she was trouble.

  Now look what you did, Leon. You kissed her in front of her not-yet-ex-old-man and her family, starting a pissing match and the inquisition. They’re all going to want to know when I’m marrying their little princess, and it’s too bad because I like Jess Carter. He’s a decent guy.

  “That was . . .” Tom’s wife, Karyn, fans her face, and Tricia’s eyes bore into the table. I swear she’s about to set it on fire.

  “I should get going,” she mumbles and reaches for her bag over the back of her chair.

  “How’d you get here?” Jess asks her, the concern visible on his face as he watches his sister. I realize I’m not the only one getting asshole vibes off her ex.

  “I walked.” She stands, hiking her tote over her shoulder and smiles weakly at Jess. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Wait,” her brothers say in unison, but I’m the fool that interjects with, “I’ll walk you home.”

  Now both brothers are beaming fireballs at me, and I turn my head from brother to brother. Holding up a hand to emphasize I’ll stand down, I add, “You guys got it. I get it.”

  I do. They’re being protective of their own, and that’s admirable. I’m trying to protect my sisters as well. I’ve only ever done that from afar. It wasn’t smart for me to linger around my younger siblings. I wanted to provide them with a better life by keeping my distance.

  “It’s only across the alley, so no one’s ‘got it’ but me.” Tricia uses air quotes, and it’s girly-shit cute.

  Karyn reaches for Tricia’s wrist. “Be smart, Tricia. You shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

  My head turns to her sister-in-law. The last thing I would call Elk Lake City is dangerous, but there’s something unsettling around the table.

  “It’s time for me to head out as well. I need to check on my sisters.” I push back my chair and stand. “I only live across the alley as well, so I can walk you.”

  Jess huffs, and I look up at him, ready to thank him for the invite to join him for a beer. He’s been cool to handle Mrs. Drummond for me, who’s clearly old and a bit forgetful. She’s also wary of me because I’m different from her. Tattoos. Accent. Skin. Some people…While I don’t want to frighten her, I know I do. I’m new here, so she doesn’t trust me, but as Jess is someone familiar, she listens to him.

  “Hey, thanks for—”

  “You know you two are neighbors, right?” Jess interjects, and I look over at Tricia. The first thing that comes to mind is the neighbor across from my bedroom window. The girl in outline each night with dark hair, a sweet nightie, and . . . holy crap. I’ve seen her naked. On one of those first nights after she moved in, I saw her walking around after a shower. She’s got a tight body, and I swallow back the fantasies I’ve had of her.

  It all makes sense in a way. I thought I was just mixing up the woman in the alley with the neighbor, but they are one and the same.

  And the sexiest thing I’ve seen her do at night is tuck her feet into the edge of her sheets, put on a pair of eyeglasses, and read. Being a Shakespeare man myself, I watch her, wondering what’s so interesting in whatever book she holds. I’ve wondered what her face looks like up close. Does she smile or frown? She laughs sometimes because I see her head tip back and her shoulders shake. She covers her mouth with her hand when she gasps. It’s all a bit creepy that I know these things about her. I get that.

  Tricia looks up at me, but I ignore her gaze. I reach out for Jess’s hand to shake it and do the same with Tom.<
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  “Call me,” Karyn says to Tricia, positioning her fingers near her ear like a phone before I follow Tricia out into the alley.

  “Sorry about all that,” I say again after only a few feet of awkward silence. I scratch at the back of my neck like I have an itch, but it’s a nervous habit.

  She waves her hand as she did earlier, dismissing everything that happened, including that kiss. My mouth hardly touched on hers, but she didn’t lean away. She followed me when I pulled back, and I wanted to take it further. Right there in the bar, I wanted to shove my tongue into her mouth and kiss her breathless. She looked a bit dazed when I drew away, and it had been kind of empowering, sweet even.

  It isn’t that I haven’t been with a woman since leaving the slammer, but it’s not like I’ve had a connection with anyone either. Not after the mind games an old friend with benefits used to play with me. I’ve never had someone sweet like this teacher walking next to me.

  “Your brothers aren’t wrong. You shouldn’t be walking around at night alone, even if this is Mayberry.”

  Her head turns to me. “You seem too young to know what Mayberry means.”

  “Like you’re so old,” I mock.

  “I’m thirty-two.”

  I snort. “You look twenty-five, and I’m older than you.”

  Her eyes shift back to me as we cross the alley. I’m following her lead, but we’re basically going to the same place, and I’m wondering if she knows this as she hasn’t mentioned it.

  “I’m thirty-five,” I clarify. Thirty-five with no formal education and a prison record. It’s a wonder I have a job, which was difficult to obtain at first. One reason I moved here was to get away from my past.

  A fresh start.

  We fall into silence again, but in no time, we hit the back of our collective yards.

  “My brothers worry because our father was killed walking home from the Tavern.”

  Jesus. “That fucking blows.”

  She laughs, and it comes out like a puff of air. “Yeah, that’s one way of looking at it. In case you haven’t noticed, the side streets don’t have sidewalks. He was walking in the street when a drunk driver hit him.”

  Shit.

  She looks up ahead of us and squints in the dark. “The sad thing is he was only two blocks from home.” Her voice drifts off, and I sympathize with her more than she’ll ever know. My thoughts rush to my younger brother, but I force them away as soon as they come at me.

  “Anyway, that’s why they worry,” she says, releasing a breath again as we hit the grass to the yards. Mrs. Drummond should put up a privacy fence back here so her tenants can be blocked from the back of these businesses.

  “I think your brothers worry because of your douche ex.” My voice comes out harsh. I have stronger words for him. “I can’t believe he left you for that,” I blurt next. The woman draped over her future ex had desperate written all over her. Doesn’t she know she’s with someone else’s man? Or maybe she’s one of those women who doesn’t care? Like Rina, my ex-whatever-she-was before life went to shit. Then again, she was a part of the shit in my life.

  “Yeah,” she whispers. I remember what she said about Trent. I don’t like him. I can’t get him to go away. I once knew a guy who took care of situations like that. He could make a dick like her ex disappear, but I’m not in that circle any longer.

  And you’re never going back.

  “Anyway, here I am,” she says. We pause on the driveway between the two houses that mirror one another, and I look up, noting a light on in the second window of my home. Hopefully, Lys is doing her homework. We need to chat after my earlier discussion with her teacher, Ms. Carter.

  My eyes drift back to Tricia.

  Ms. Carter. If I’d had a teacher like her, I might have finished my senior year just to look at her every day. Internally, I laugh. If I’d had a teacher like her, I’d have only dreamed of getting her on her back on the front desk while I hovered over her.

  “This is me, too,” I say and watch her glance from my windows to hers, and then her expression shifts. Her hand reaches for her lips like she does when she’s reading. Like when she realizes something bad has happened.

  “You’re my neighbor,” she states as if it just caught up to her that neighbor means the boy next door. Although I’m nowhere near that innocent. “The next-door neighbor.”

  She sharply inhales.

  “Oh, my God. I . . . you . . .” She’s pointing back and forth between the houses as our neighbor status sinks in. I wonder if she knows I’ve seen her naked. The other night I pulled that stunt, jerking off near the window, fantasizing about her, hoping—and now knowing from her stammer—she was actually watching me.

  “I need to go,” she mutters, turning toward her front steps. She waves over her shoulder, and I can’t help myself.

  “What? No good-night kiss?” I tease to her retreating back. Her wave turns into a flipped finger, and I laugh harder. As she climbs her steps and disappears into her house, I smile to myself. I can’t ever remember feeling like I do at this moment.

  And I know this is bad—so, so bad.

  + + +

  When I enter the house, the high from being near Tricia Carter comes crashing down.

  “Where’s Lena, hermanita?” I ask Lys after climbing the stairs to the second floor. I rarely speak Spanish, so the term just slipped out.

  “She said she was going out. Meeting friends.” Lys is so innocent as she answers me. She’s still in that awkward transition from girl to woman, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with her.

  “She doesn’t have any friends,” I snap, voice already rising, but Lys is only the messenger. My other sister is going to be the death of me. She talks back constantly. She complains about everything, and she wants to go back home so badly she’s killing me. I get it. I’d want to be back with my friends too. As a senior in high school, she feels like she’s missing out because she isn’t with her girls. She will be the first in our family to attend college.

  I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents lately. What are their finances like? Do they have money saved for Lena and Lys? How long will this detainment last? And what happens if they don’t return? I don’t have money to send Lena to college.

  “Lena said she wouldn’t be long,” Lys interrupts my thoughts.

  “How long’s it been?” I question, knowing I’d left the house at close to six to go to that damn open house thing Lys had guilted me into attending. “Mami would go,” she’d said even though it isn’t my fault my parents aren’t here.

  “Since you left,” Lys confirms, which means it’s been almost three hours. I don’t even know who to call other than my sister herself, who won’t answer. Instead, I send one angry text after another. I’ll need to dump this phone soon, but for now, I need to keep the number.

  Ms. Carter wasn’t wrong. The school doesn’t have a way to contact me, and that’s on purpose, but what happens if one of my sisters gets into trouble or worse, they get sick? I’ve been listening to Lys sniffle lately, and it’s getting on my nerves.

  “We need to talk,” I say to her after I send another warning text to my sister about getting her ass home. “What’s happening at school? Your teacher says she’s worried about you.”

  Lys shrugs.

  “Were you in a special class in middle school?”

  Lys looks up at me all doe-eyed and confused. She understands English, even if Mami and Papi only speak Spanish at home. They can’t help her with homework, though, just like they couldn’t help me or my brother, but I didn’t care. Lys does. She wants to do well, be good, and get ahead. Those are my parents’ plans as well. They wanted a better life for us.

  One out of four kids gettin’ there ain’t great odds.

  “Lys, this is important. Your teacher thinks you can’t read or write.” I stop myself because that isn’t exactly what she said. In fact, I can’t remember exactly what she’d said because I was so distracted by the movement of
her cherry-red lips while she was speaking to me. I was slow to register she had genuine concerns about my sister.

  “I can read and write,” she quietly defends, and I know she thinks she can. We all want to believe we understand the basics.

  “Lys, were you in a special class back at your old school?” I ask again, attempting to be more sensitive. I don’t know about any of this. I hardly know her. While I tried to make an appearance at my parents’ for the occasional birthday or holiday, I kept my distance in order not to bring unwarranted harm to my innocent family.

  “I was in a class with only eight kids, but I don’t want to go back.”

  “Back to a smaller class?” I clarify because I get it. Who wants to be with the other kids? If Lys struggles to understand English, then it’s a language issue, but I don’t think that’s the concern.

  “No, back to that school.”

  My brows crease. “You won’t go back there. You’ve moved on to high school. When you go back home, you’ll be at the high school with Lena.”

  “I don’t want to go to that high school either,” she whispers, and I’m so confused. What is this?

  “Why not?”

  She shrugs again, and I don’t understand.

  “I need to know what to tell your teacher,” I say as Lys avoids my eyes. “Which reminds me, you never mentioned she’s been wanting to see me for a parent-teacher meeting.” I didn’t get the phone messages either. I ignore unknown numbers and never listen to the voicemails from them.

  “You aren’t Mami,” she states, and I agree. I’m not her parent.

  “No, but I’m in charge for now, and I have to know if you’re in trouble.”

  “Am I in trouble?” Her brows press together.

  “No, but if you need help in school, it’s okay to ask.” Is that what I should say? I don’t know if I believe that. I never would have asked for help in school. I’d let everything slide. I hadn’t cared what my teachers said or my parents threatened. I hadn’t valued any of it, especially after Israel was gone.

  Lys only nods, and I’m wondering if she comprehends what I’ve said, let alone can read and write. I’m in over my head here and decide to drop the subject. I need to know what my other sister is up to.

 

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