Two
Kylie watched in horror as Robin jumped toward the stranger from the day before, wrapped him in a bear hug, and said, “Hey, Richie, what’s up?”
The man chuckled. “Richie, huh? That’s original. I’ve never heard that before.”
Robin cocked her head. “Really? But you look so much like a young, long-haired Ron Howard.”
“I think he’s being facetious,” Kylie spat behind clenched teeth. She hated when her friend acted ridiculous in front of people they didn’t know. It would be one thing for her to do it alone, but Robin always chose to do it when she was with Kylie. “Robin, I think our shift is over. We need to get going. No scenes.”
“Name’s Ryan Watkins.” The man thrust his hand toward Kylie’s friend. “You must be Robin.”
She giggled and grabbed his hand. “Yep, Robin Reed.” Pointing toward Kylie, she added, “This here’s my friend Kylie Andrews.” She leaned toward him. “She’s a bit on the grumpy side.”
Kylie scowled at her, but Ryan threw back his head and laughed. “I think you’re right. Maybe she needs a hug, too.”
“Don’t even think about it, you. . .you. . .curly-headed mops.”
Ryan frowned and looked at Robin. “Did she just insult us?”
“I think she did.”
“Your curls are lovely.”
“So are yours.” Robin twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “You and I must go to the same barber. I believe we have the same haircut.”
Ryan gasped. “I believe you may be right. I mean, aside from the fact that yours is a bit longer.”
“Oh, but your curls lie so perfectly. Maybe we should make an appointment to go together.”
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Kylie grabbed her purse from the drawer. Robin knew she hated to be embarrassed, but her friend was determined to make a fool of her with a complete stranger. “Find your own way home. Maybe your Bobbsey twin will give you a ride.”
“Wait! That was really jerky of me, and you don’t even know me.” Ryan grabbed her arm. “I was just teasing. I’m a notorious teaser. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” Robin looked at the floor like a scolded puppy. “You know I’m uncontrollably silly sometimes. I wasn’t trying to be mean.”
Swallowing hard, Kylie forced a grin. “Of course you were teasing. I know that. I love a good joke.” She choked up a laugh.
Ryan extended his hand. “Forgive me?”
“Of course.” Without looking at him, Kylie accepted his hand for an instant, then grabbed her purse tighter. “Robin, are you ready to go?” She tried to sound light, but she knew this Ryan Watkins had seen to her soul. He knew he’d bruised her ego, and he was genuinely sorry.
How she wished to be more like Robin—free and glib. Instead, Kylie was sensitive and sentimental and entirely too vulnerable. She didn’t like that Ryan had seen that in her.
Walking toward the car, Kylie fought to keep her chin up. She focused on trying to find her keys in her purse.
“I’m sorry, Kylie. Usually you go right along with the teasing. You know I’d never intentionally hurt your feelings. You’re my best friend.”
“I know. I don’t know why I’m being so sensitive.”
“You must like him.”
Kylie gasped and gawked at her friend. “What? I—I don’t even know him.”
“Either that or you’re worried about your accounting grade.”
“The latter, I’m sure.”
Kylie found her keys and gripped them in her hand. The truth was, she had gotten more upset than normal. Usually when Robin teased, Kylie laughed it off. Today, it hurt. Maybe it was Ryan’s teasing that hurt.
❧
Ryan sat in the church pew, pulling miserably at his shirt collar. A dress shirt and sport coat were not his favorite attire. He’d wear them only to Sunday morning church services. And only for Gramps. Many of the congregation opted for a more casual attire, but Gramps was from the old school. A person dressed up on Sundays, and until Gramps decided otherwise, Ryan would respect that and dress up, as well.
Ryan pulled at the shoulder of his sport coat. The thing was too small. He needed to buy a new one. He sighed. For Gramps, dressing up is a small price to pay. At least most times it was. Today, Ryan felt as if he were suffocating.
“Why, Ryan, imagine seeing you here.”
Ryan looked toward the voice that sounded very much like Robin Reed’s. His mouth fell open when he saw her. “Hi.” He stood and shook her hand. “I didn’t know you came to church here.”
“Actually, we’re visiting. We attended church in Evansville for the last three years, but now that we’re living near Santa Claus, we’re looking for something closer. We never joined the church near school. We’re hoping to find a home church now that we’re getting closer to graduating.”
“So you’re both from Evansville?”
“Otwell, actually. Our fathers are coal miners. We’ve been best friends since birth, so we decided to go to college in Evansville together, too.”
“How did you end up here?”
“My uncle owns an apartment building. He’s letting us live in one of the apartments in exchange for keeping up the yard work.” Robin smacked her hands together. “The deal was too good for two college gals to pass up.”
Ryan nodded. “That’s for sure. Where is Kylie?” He still felt bad for the way he’d teased her at work. Though a kidder at heart, he wasn’t usually cruel. Something about her drew him, and he hadn’t expected it, hadn’t known how to handle it.
“Rest room.”
“Oh.”
“Ahem.” Ryan glanced at his grandfather, who had grabbed the pew in front of him and was getting ready to stand.
Ryan grinned. “I’m sorry. Gramps, this is Robin. Robin, Gramps.”
Gramps grabbed her hand and winked. “I reckon you can call me Gramps.”
“I’d love to.”
Kylie walked toward them. She was fumbling through her purse. “Robin, I found a couple of seats on the other side.” She looked up. Her light skin flamed red. “Oh—um—I didn’t see you.” She looked at her bag again. “Hi, Ryan.”
Ryan’s heart sped up. Yes, something about Kylie definitely drew him. He could tell she had confidence, yet she seemed so vulnerable. Maybe that was what beckoned him. He’d always fought for the underdog. But Kylie wasn’t an underdog. And what about the way her creamy cheeks and neck shaded crimson? He found it endearing, almost inviting.
Gramps pushed past him and grabbed Kylie’s hand. “Hi, sweetie. I’m Gramps.”
“Kylie.” She smiled and lifted her chin. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”
“Won’t you two sit here beside me?” Gramps pulled her hand toward him.
“Well. . .” She glanced at Ryan. He could see her confidence wane again.
“Of course we will.” Robin scooted past all three of them and sat, leaving a space for Kylie to sit by Gramps.
Kylie nodded and followed Robin. Ryan inhaled cocoa butter as she passed and longed for his sunglasses, swimsuit, and a beach.
After they sat, Ryan sneeked a peek at Gramps. He patted Kylie’s hand. “After the services, Ryan and I will treat you to the best Italian food you’ve ever tasted.”
Gramps hadn’t requested. He’d simply made a decision. Ryan glanced at Kylie. She smiled and nodded, but Ryan would have given a hundred bucks to cruise the inside of her mind. He had a feeling agreement wouldn’t be there.
❧
Kylie lifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder as she walked through the door of Marinelli’s. A blast of air-conditioning blew through her hair, and she shuddered. That’s just great. Because of her nerves, her body was already shaking of its own volition. She didn’t need a second excuse.
The Sunday afternoon lunch crowd gathered around them. Ryan’s grandfather and Robin moved to one side, chatting about weather conditions. Kylie knew the conversation could go on for hours since meteorology had once-upon-a-time
been Robin’s major and obviously the older man’s favorite pastime.
Kylie moved to the other side. Something poked her in the back. She turned around to find Ryan shifting his arm around her as another couple squished through the door behind him. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” Kylie shuddered again. Aggravated, she folded her arms in front of her chest. She had absolutely no reason to feel insecure, shy, or anything else in front of Ryan. He was simply a guy, a loser, in fact, according to her list of who could be considered potential date material.
She glanced at him. His light auburn curls lay softly around his head. The shaggy style appealed to her more than she’d have thought possible, in a silly, kind of goofy way.
He caught her looking at him. Heat flooded her cheeks and she averted her gaze, but not before Kylie noticed his eyes could challenge the ocean for beauty rights. She felt him looking at her. The knowledge stirred her insides, making her shudder a third time.
“Are you cold?”
“A little.” She wanted to crumble under the concern in his voice.
“Here.” Ryan took off his sports jacket and dropped it over her shoulders.
Why had she chosen to wear a sleeveless dress? A light sweater would have been appropriate for the middle of May. The uncommonly warm weather had her brain fuzzy. The smell of men’s Obsession cologne was making it worse. She needed to sit down.
“Are you all right?” Ryan touched her arm.
She looked up at him, praying the earth would just open and swallow her whole. “I’m—”
“Watkins. Party of four.”
“That’s us. Take my hand.”
Before she could respond, Ryan grabbed her hand and led her toward the hostess. His hand felt warm, a bit rough—and safe. Kylie focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She was determined not to think about his strong hand, his firm grip.
Once they reached the table, Ryan pulled out her chair and Kylie sat. Looking around she realized Gramps and Robin were already seated. Robin raised her eyebrows in obvious question, and Kylie looked away from her. Ryan’s coat still hung from her shoulders. Kylie pondered taking it off but knew she’d shake through the whole meal. If I act natural no one will think anything about it.
She tried to act natural as she pushed each arm through the sleeves. Smiling, she looked around as if nothing was wrong. Her left hand knocked a glass. Oh no. She spied the water and tried to grab the glass. It teetered and wobbled before spilling all over the table.
Utensils clinked against the table as Ryan yanked up his cloth napkin. Robin lifted the tablecloth to keep the stream of water from landing on her, but succeeded in altering its way toward Kylie. Before Kylie could stop it, the frigid liquid poured onto her lap.
“Ah!” She jumped up, knocking her chair against the person behind her. Turning to him she shook her head, willing back tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Kylie.” Ryan stood and grabbed her arm. She faced him, and he placed a clean napkin in her hand. “It’s okay.”
His voice was soft and soothing, like a gentle caress. His gaze was sweet and sincere. A single tear threatened to slip down her cheek. She blinked it back as she looked at her dress. What is wrong with me?
Ryan gently swiped her cheek with his back of his hand. Stunned, Kylie looked up at him. Surprise washed his face, as well. He stepped back and sat in his chair.
“I’ll go to the rest room with you, if you want.”
Kylie stared at Robin. Realizing she still stood, she brushed her dress and shook her head. “It’s just water. It’ll dry.”
Determined to regain control of her body and emotions, Kylie replaced her chair in its place, smiled a second apology at the man behind her, and then sat. Grabbing her menu, Kylie studied it. The words blurred, and heat rushed up her cheeks as she thought of what she must have looked like only moments before. Stop it. She scooted in her chair and focused harder on the menu. When the words continued to jumble, Kylie closed her eyes. I’ll just order spaghetti. Every Italian restaurant has that.
“Do you guys know what you want?” Robin studied the menu. She opened the inside flap, then shut it again.
“My favorite is veal parmesan,” answered Ryan.
“I’m getting lasagna. I always get lasagna.” Gramps nodded at Ryan. “Don’t I?”
“You sure do.” Ryan smiled and picked up his glass of water. He took a drink. “What did you think about Pastor Chambers’s sermon today?” He placed the glass back on the table.
“Good. Good. Did you see Elma’s hair? The woman dyed it blue. Can you believe that? Was pink. Now, blue.” Gramps snorted and shook his head.
Kylie settled back in the chair. She concentrated on keeping her breathing steady. She’d never before been such a bundle of nerves in front of a guy. Ryan wasn’t even her type. He was a hippie wannabe with that shaggy haircut, or rather lack of cut. And red. She’d never liked redheads. Well, truth be told, his was a bit more of an auburn, but still it had quite a bit of red in it.
And his clothes. His red and navy blue plaid shirt was definitely a size too small and obviously uncomfortable. His khakis had seen better days, as well. Kylie had always envisioned herself with a man in a wrinkle-free, high-dollar suit that fit to exemplary perfection.
She sneaked another peek at Ryan. And yet I’m attracted to him. Like a bee to honey. A moth to light. A magnet to metal. A poor girl to a loser.
She sighed.
Growing up in a household of eight children with her daddy as a coal miner, Kylie knew the truth of the phrase “feast or famine.” When the coal industry was going well, the Andrewses had lots of food, clothes, and fun. When the industry was down, it was free lunch at school and beans for dinner—every night.
Two of her sisters had already married coal miners. They lived the life she knew all too well. No, she wanted more. This poor girl would have nothing to do with a loser, attraction or not. God had blessed her with a good deal of intelligence and some common sense to boot. Losers were not on her list.
Who ever said being poor made one a loser? “Blessed are the poor. . . .”
Kylie shook the thought away. She would never—could never—consider living a life of poverty.
The waitress stopped at their table. “What can I get you all?” She pulled a pen from behind her ear then dropped it. Ryan reached over, picked it up, and handed it to her. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Ryan folded his menu and then looked at Kylie. A sweet smile warmed his face, and Kylie’s resolve melted. Her palms began to sweat and her heart beat faster.
“Are you ready, miss?”
Kylie looked at the waitress, determined not to think of the adorable scattering of freckles she’d noticed beneath Ryan’s eyes. “Yes.” She cleared her throat and clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. “I’ll have maghetti and speatballs.”
That’s it. No more outings with the redhead.
Three
The next day Ryan stood and grabbed his cell phone and wallet off his dresser and walked into the living area where Gramps had already opened the front door. His grandfather folded his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t need my grandson holding my hand at the doctor’s office.”
Ryan blew out his breath, determined not to get aggravated with his hardheaded grandfather. “I’m going with you.”
“I’m fine, I tell you.” Gramps placed his newsboy cap on his head and picked up his car keys.
“Gramps, you’re all the family I have left. I want to go with you.”
Gramps grunted and pulled his polyester pants higher around his waist. “Fine, but I’m driving.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Ryan buckled his seat belt as Gramps pulled onto the street. Gramps’s bluegrass music filtered through the speakers. The older man leaned over and snapped it off. “So tell me about those girls from church.”
“What about them?”
“Where’d you meet them?”
&n
bsp; “At work.”
“Mmm.”
Ryan shifted in his seat. He knew his grandfather. He wanted more information than that, but Ryan didn’t know what to tell him. He found himself attracted to Kylie, but he was pretty sure she was hung up on money and wanting things her way. He’d already gone down that relationship path, and he had no intentions of taking that road again.
“Tell me about the blond one.” Gramps interrupted his thinking.
Ryan shrugged. “What about her?”
“A little jumpy, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, she’s definitely jumpy.”
“A little clumsy, too.”
Ryan remembered the water spilling on her dress. “Maybe, but I think she was just nervous.”
“Nervous about what?”
“She was cold. I put my jacket on her shoulders—I don’t know.”
“If she was cold, why would wearing your jacket make her nervous?” Gramps glanced at Ryan, then back at the road. “Unless. . .she likes you a bit.”
“No way. I’m a yahoo in her book.”
“A what?”
Ryan shook his head. “Never mind.”
Gramps pulled into the doctor’s office parking lot. He took the keys from the ignition. “Well, let’s get this over with.”
Ryan followed his grandfather into the office. Gramps signed in and was taken back to a room within no time.
“So how are we feeling today?” A young, petite nurse took Gramps’s blood pressure and pulse.
“Fit as a fiddle.”
“That’s good.” She wrote down his numbers, then winked at him. “Dr. Hurst will be in to see you in just a moment.” She opened the door and shut it behind her.
Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t hear her say what your blood pressure was.”
“That’s because she didn’t.”
“Don’t they always tell you when they take it? Every appointment I’ve ever been to the nurse always tells me my weight, my temperature, my pulse, my blood pressure—”
Gramps huffed and pointed to the chair. “Would you have a seat? You’re raising my blood pressure with all your worrying.”
Ryan sat and crossed his arms in front of his chest. That man is as mule-headed as a. . .as a mule! “I just worry about you, Gramps.”
Picket Fence Pursuit Page 2
