The words had infuriated me. Gee, I’m sorry life is falling apart honey, but, ya know, figure it out. Meanwhile, I’ll be driving around the country visiting random tourist traps.
I pushed away the twinges of guilt about selling my jewelry. If I had the right buyer, it wasn’t entirely disloyal. It was just transitioning the items from one family member to another. Do what you need to do.
The sound of the doorbell and Toby’s excited barking jolted me out of my reverie. I jumped up, glancing at myself in the mirror. I could stand some lip gloss and mascara, but who cared? This wasn’t exactly a hot date. I grabbed the hatbox full of jewelry and my string wallet and hurried down the stairs.
Toby was already at the door, barking his head off. Our front doors were too fancy for peepholes, so I just flung it open.
Holy shizballs.
One of the hottest guys I’d ever seen stood on the porch. Thick dark hair almost brushed his shoulders. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and from what I dared to look at, underneath he was all sinewy strength and lean muscle. Not a beer belly or plumber’s crack in sight. And he was way closer to my age than the old guy I’d conjured in my imagination.
Toby launched himself out the door, and the guy knelt to pet him, instantly turning my guard dog into a heap of wriggling pet-me fur. The guy glanced up at me, and I caught my breath at the swirling kaleidoscope colors of his eyes: green, blue, and silver, all mixed together.
“Er. Um.” I stammered. “Hi.”
He grinned at me, one side of his mouth quirking higher than the other, and flashing a dimple.
Why hadn’t I at least put on lip gloss?
“Hi.” He stood up, looming over me as Toby bounced around his legs. “You must be Darcy. I’m Lucas Martinez, your chauffeur.” He grinned and glanced down at my insane dog, then back at me. “And your scary protector is…?”
Damn. Even his voice was sexy. Words, Darcy. Find them. Use them. “Toby,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat. “You sure it’s okay if he rides in your car?” The shiny black muscle car in the driveway wasn’t the falling apart vehicle I’d imagined, either.
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I like dogs.”
Toby rolled on his back, flaunting his stomach for a belly rub. I sort of felt like doing the same thing, but I had more impulse control than my dog.
“I’ll just grab his leash. Please come in.” I stepped back into the foyer, embarrassed that I’d completely forgotten all the manners Mom had drilled into me.
He smiled down at me and entered the Covington Castle. I saw his eyes widen as he took it all in: the marble floor, the enormous chandelier, the family portraits interspersed with artwork lining the walls.
“Be right back.” I escaped into the kitchen and grabbed Toby’s leash off a hook on the wall.
Inhale calm. Exhale stress. So he was cute, so what? Okay, way beyond cute. But still. He worked for my uncle, just doing him a favor by picking me up. I snuck into the powder room off the kitchen and brushed my hair. And found some lip gloss in a drawer. Score.
Back in the foyer, Lucas was kneeling again, rubbing Toby’s stomach. He stood up when I entered the room. I wondered if I could sneak a Snapchat shot of him for Sal.
“Ready?” He held out a hand for Toby’s leash and I gave it to him, since Toby had forgotten I existed.
“You could totally rob us if you wanted,” I muttered, closing the front door and locking it. “My dog just fell into insta-love with you.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks flame with heat. Nice to meet you, gorgeous driver. How do you feel about freaky girls with no social skills?
Lucas laughed as I hurried around him and down the steps.
“Your carriage awaits,” he said, stopping next to me and sweeping out his arm in a grand gesture. Still blushing, I looked away from his assessing gaze.
Once he’d closed the door behind me, I let out a long breath. I needed to get a grip. Woodbridge was full of hot guys. This was not a big deal. It must be all the stress, making my hormones overactive or something.
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. I felt the deep rumble of the engine underneath my butt. I glanced at the dashboard, which gleamed. The car wasn’t new but it was spotless. He must be one of those guys obsessed with their cars. I wondered if he washed it shirtless. If he did, he could probably charge for admission.
Stop it, I told myself. He’s your driver, not your date. I tried to think of something non-freaky to say. “You’re probably going to end up with a lot of dog hair in the backseat. Sorry.”
He shot me a crooked grin as the car pulled out of the driveway. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a Shop-Vac.”
I suddenly wondered if my uncle had told him to be extra nice to me because my life was falling apart. The idea was almost as appalling as the Top Ten list on my locker.
He increased the speed as we turned down Sixth Avenue. “So Charlie says he hasn’t seen you in a long time. He’s glad you’re coming to his store.”
“Me too. I’ve never been there.”
He turned toward me, surprised. “Really? Why not?”
Weren’t limo drivers supposed to remain silent unless spoken to? Guilt about not seeing my uncle made me irritable. “Long story.”
He shrugged. “It’s kind of a long drive, if you feel like telling the story.”
“You don’t want to hear it. Be glad you’re just the chauffeur.”
He shot me a look of surprise, then a darker emotion flickered in his eyes before he turned back to the road. “So the hired help shouldn’t ask questions. Got it.”
Oh no. Now he thought I was a rich bitch too good to talk to him?
“I didn’t mean… It’s just…” Crap. Why couldn’t I be charming like my dad and Sal? It was situations like this that made me stay in my mousy shell. He didn’t say anything for several blocks, making me feel bad that I’d snapped at him. I reminded myself he’d driven across town to pick me up, and was just trying to make conversation.
“My dad,” I said haltingly, “Charlie’s brother, he, uh, didn’t see Charlie often. I think I was seven the last time I saw him.”
I glanced at Lucas’s arms resting on the steering wheel as we waited at a red light. His skin glimmered in the sun like Aspen leaves at their peak, golden and warm.
“Wow,” he said. “That’s…different.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I said, then shifted in my seat so I could pet Toby in the backseat. I snuck a glance at Lucas’s profile. Yep. Still hot.
We drove in silence again, until he reached for his iPod. One of my favorite songs by a local band blasted through the speakers. He adjusted the volume and glanced at me. “Is this okay?”
I was glad he had to refocus on driving because those eyes of his killed me. “Yeah,” I said. “I love Ice Krystal. They’re great in concert.”
He glanced at me. “Did you see them at the Gothic? That was an awesome show.”
“It was,” I agreed. I’d gone to the concert with Sal and we’d danced the entire time. It was weird to think Lucas had been there, too. Possibly even witnessing my lame dance moves.
“Charlie’s store isn’t far from the Gothic.”
Wow. So all the concerts I’d seen there, my uncle had been close by and I hadn’t even known?
Lucas turned the car down an alley behind a row of old brick buildings. “We’ll park in the back, but walk around to the front. You need to get the full effect, seeing it for the first time.”
“Whatever you say, driver.” I forced a feeble smile, and his answering grin chased away some of my anxiety.
We walked down the alley and around to the storefronts facing Broadway. I held Toby’s leash in one hand and my hatbox in the other. My spazzy dog kept angling into Lucas’s space.
“Want me to hold the leash?” Lucas asked.
“No thanks.” It would’ve been easier, but I was feeling stubborn, and anxious. Hand
ing over the leash again felt like giving up control.
“Have you done training with your dog?” Lucas asked, after he almost fell over Toby darting in front of him.
“Yes,” I grumbled. “But he has a mind of his own.” Especially when he’s in insta-love, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
I was so distracted trying to wrangle Toby that I almost walked past the shop, until Lucas put a hand on my arm to stop me. I jumped at the feel of his skin on mine, and he yanked his hand away.
He inclined his head toward the faded brick storefront. “Here it is.”
I took a deep breath, feeling like I was about to meet a magic wizard who held all the answers to my questions about my dad. But then I remembered Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, and reminded myself there was no such thing as real wizards.
Chapter Five
The Second Hand Story was flanked by a vacuum and sewing machine repair shop and a tattoo parlor called Inkheart. This part of town was cool in a shabby, retro kind of way.
The store’s large window faced the sidewalk. Someone had put up a crazy display of toy animals frolicking under a fake tree. A stuffed squirrel had a Frisbee glued to its paw while a fuzzy rabbit flew a kite suspended from the ceiling.
I glanced at Lucas and pointed to the display. “Is this what you meant by ‘the full effect’?”
He nodded, watching me warily. Did he think I’d make fun of the display?
“It’s great,” I said, meaning it. “Did Charlie do this?”
“I did.”
“Really? I thought you were the repair guy.” I forced myself to maintain eye contact with him, drawing on the very small amount of “Tri Ty” DNA I’d inherited.
His lips quirked. “Among other things.” He reached for the door and opened it, and I jumped again, this time because of the goofy Halloween “bwahahah” laugh that sounded, the kind that people rigged up on their front porches to scare little kids.
Lucas laughed as he propped open the door with his body. “No ghosts, I promise. It’s just Charlie’s way of announcing customers. You can go inside.”
Toby dragged me into the store, excited to meet new people to fall in love with.
You can do this, I told myself. Just breathe.
I looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Then curtains sectioning off a far corner of the store parted and my uncle walked out. He paused before grinning and exclaiming, “Darcy! I’m so glad you came.”
He still had the long ponytail and scruffy beard. In his old Beatles T-shirt and jeans he looked exactly as I’d imagined him.
“Hi. So wow, you recognize me?” Duh. Who else would Lucas have brought here? I winced at my awkwardness.
Charlie chuckled, then stepped close to hug me. I held the hatbox in one arm while hugging him with the other, Toby forcing himself into the middle of our family reunion. My uncle still smelled like coffee and cinnamon.
“Of course I recognize you,” Charlie said, after we hugged. “You’re my favorite niece.”
“And your only one,” I muttered.
He grinned and looked down at Toby. “Toby. How delightful to make your acquaintance again.” He smiled at me. “Last time I saw him he was a puppy.”
A little late I asked, “Is it okay if he comes in your store?”
Charlie nodded. “My store, my rules. So yes.”
He glanced at the hatbox. “You still have it. Amazing. How about the pepper shakers?”
I nodded. “I have all of them.”
His brown eyes, so much like my dad’s, widened in delight. “You do? I’m thrilled. I was afraid your dad…” He stopped, watching me with questioning concern.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled.
Charlie motioned me toward a long Formica counter lined with turquoise vinyl barstools that made me think of a 1950s diner. As I perched on a stool, I glanced at the large mirror behind the counter. It reflected shelves overflowing with old appliances, glasses and dishes, ancient radios and TV sets, and wicker baskets overflowing with toys. Two of the walls were covered in murals. The images were from all around Colorado: the zoo, Red Rocks Amphitheatre, and the boathouse at City Park. The far wall was lined from floor to ceiling with more shelves.
“Oh,” I gasped. I slid off the stool and hurried to one display.
I’d never seen so many salt and pepper shakers in my life. A sign on the bottom shelf caught my eye: “Not for sale.” I bent down for a closer look and my breath caught.
There were the mates to all of my pepper shakers at home. I recognized them from my birthday cards: the yellow Labrador lying on his back, the angel kissing air, Wilma Flintstone, a blue Siamese cat looking down his snooty nose, a laughing lady chef and the rest of the mates to all seventeen of my pepper shakers.
“I always knew you’d show up some day,” Charlie said softly. He’d sidled up to me so quietly I hadn’t heard him. I rose to face him, speechless.
Who was this amazing guy? And why had Dad banished him from our lives?
Charlie grinned. “Coffee? Donut?” He put an arm around my shoulder and steered me back to the counter where I was grateful to sit because my shaking legs might not hold me up. Toby had finally stopped stalking Lucas and curled up on a rug like he lived here.
Charlie lifted the lid off a round glass pastry dish piled high with donuts. A hand-lettered sign said, “Donuts: 50¢ each or free if you tell me a good story.”
His eyes were kind. “Have as many as you want.”
“I’m going to Liz’s,” Lucas said, shoving off from the counter where he’d been leaning, watching us. “You want anything?”
Charlie shook his head then glanced at me. “I have plain old coffee but Liz makes the good stuff. Do you want a mocha? Tea?” He flashed an apologetic smile. “I don’t even know if you’re a coffee or a tea person.”
It was a small thing, but seeing the flash of regret in my uncle’s eyes threatened to break my heart. I swallowed over the lump in my throat. “Nothing right now,” I said.
Charlie glanced at Lucas. “Take your time. Darcy and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
Lucas nodded, shooting me another curious glance before he left, setting off the Halloween laugh when he opened the door.
“Now, have a donut. I insist.”
I hesitated, then pointed to one with pink icing and sprinkles, my favorite. “I’ll take that one.” I looked at him shyly. “Do I really have to tell you a story?”
He slid the donut toward me on a paper napkin. “I have a feeling you’ll be telling me plenty of them now that we’re getting reacquainted. I’ll put this one on your story tab.”
“So you give people free food if they tell you a story? For real?”
He nodded, leaning against the counter. “It’s a tradition. The first owner of this place did the same thing. Thus the name.”
The Second Hand Story.
I took a huge bite of donut to give me an excuse not to talk. What could I say? Wow, you are not what I expected at all. You are oddly cool in a hippie-ish sort of way. How can you and my OCD father possibly be related?
“You sure you don’t want coffee?” He refilled his NPR mug.
“Just water,” I slurred around my mouthful of donut.
He opened a small fridge and handed me a bottle, then gestured to the hatbox. “So what’s in there? Or was this your way of making sure I recognized you?” His eyes practically twinkled. How could my dad be so freaked out by this guy?
I swigged more water, stalling for time. I didn’t want money to be our first topic of conversation. It seemed rude, not to mention embarrassing. He wiped the counter with a rag, oozing patience.
“It’s just some…stuff. I thought maybe you might…” This was pathetic. I was pathetic.
His eyes held mine for a moment, and then he lifted the lid off the box.
“Ah,” he said, looking at the jewelry. He glanced up. Concerned? Judging? I couldn’t read his expression. “So
you need some cash.” It was a statement, not a question.
I nodded, too mortified to speak.
He rubbed his scruffy beard. It looked good on him, no matter what Dad said. “Darcy, I wish I could help, but this isn’t exactly the kind of store you need right now.”
“It’s not why I’m here,” I said, relieved to find my voice. “I wanted to see you. But while I was waiting for my driver,” I forced a smile, “I remembered you work in a pawn shop, so I thought maybe…” I couldn’t finish.
My face flooded with heat. What was I doing? I had to get out of here. I grabbed the box from the counter and slid off the stool. Toby ran to the door, and then I remembered I didn’t have a car to whisk me away. Crap.
“Sit down, Darcy. Please.” Charlie’s voice was gentle but commanding. “I’m not letting you run away, not after waiting all these years to see you again.”
I took a breath, then resumed my seat on the spinning stool, embarrassed. Looking into his kind eyes, so much like my dad’s, I thought that maybe I didn’t want to leave.
“Sorry,” I said. “This is all just…a lot to take in.”
He nodded. “I can only imagine what you and your mom are going through.”
I bit my lip, unsure how much I should tell him.
“My car was repossessed.” I could tell him that much. Toby gave a long-suffering dog sigh and curled up on the rug again.
“Repo’d?” He looked stunned.
“Yeah. It was…pretty bad.” I took a deep breath and plowed on. “My mom talked to the bank, and if we come up with about six grand in a week I can get the car back.” I left out the part about catching up on old payments and making new ones. Mom said there was no way we could do it.
Charlie let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of cash.” He looked genuinely sympathetic.
“Yeah.”
“What about your mom? Can’t she help?”
I shook my head. “She wants to but our accounts are frozen.” I shot him a quick look. He definitely knew what that meant and so did I, now. Frozen = no access to money = Mom getting a job.
Charlie sipped his coffee. “Maybe you should try a pawn store. Not a thrift store, which is what my store is.” The corners of his eyes crinkled just like Dad’s when he smiled at me.
How (Not) to Fall in Love Page 3
