Mom went to work again, finishing with the pepper and scraping it into a container. “Want to know what I think?”
“I’m not sure. Do I?”
“Always.” She smiled. “I think that you’ll do just fine this summer, as long as you stay away from those barracudas by the lake. You’ve always been extra sensitive, Shelby, and that’s my fault. You grew up under a gossipy microscope in this town, and I was so stubborn about proving a point to them—that I could be the best single mom ever, no matter what they thought—that I subjected you to a life of dealing with the opinions of others. If I’d just moved away to someplace else, you would’ve learned more confidence during your formative years.”
“And that would’ve kept me away from Grandpa. Catch-22, Mom.”
“Catch-22. Story of my life.”
Her smile grew, but it wasn’t real. It was one of those Mom-things she did to make me feel better, and I went over to give her a massive hug. I was taller than her—it’d happened last summer, along with the rest of the changes in my dorky appearance—so I almost felt like a big sister pulling her into my arms. But that image went right down the tubes when Mom patted my back in a maternal way.
“You know I’d do anything for you,” she said, cupping my face in her hands. They smelled like green pepper, like home-cooked meals and hard work.
I couldn’t resist zinging her. “Anything? Then tell me who my dad is.”
She gave me a playful push, and I laughed, knowing that if she could keep that secret for over nineteen years already, I didn’t have much chance of cracking her.
Still, my curiosity simmered, even as I smiled at her and we both went to the back to wash our hands. She left as I tugged my apron off its hook, and when I returned to her at the counter, she spoke over a bluegrassy Neko Case tune.
“By the way, thanks for dropping off the mower,” she said. “I love having an errand girl around for the summer.”
I didn’t feel like talking about my adventure at the fix-it shop, so I made it short, mostly because the less I had to think about Micah, the better. “No prob. I’m sure they’ll be calling with an estimate and a pickup time.”
“They already did. And I’ll probably be getting an update when they pick up their takeout order in about twenty minutes.”
I deflated. What were the chances my nemesis would be the one fetching food for the boys?
Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “They order out all the time.”
“Yay.”
When she leveled that Mom-is-gonna-find-out-what’s-bugging-you stare on me, I grabbed a container with utensils and checkered cotton napkins in it, going toward the front of the house. Maybe if I rolled the silverware in the napkins and stuffed them in the mason jars fast enough, I could escape to the back again before someone from the shop picked up the order.
Nope.
Micah came through the door five minutes later, carrying one of the reusable cloth bags Mom encouraged her customers to use. He was minus the uniform this time, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to his chest so pornographically that I looked away and tried to blend into the brick wall.
Frannie greeted him from behind the cash counter, her chubby cheeks flushing. “You’re early for dinner today.”
“When you’re hungry, you’re hungry.” Micah rested an elbow on the counter and explicitly watched me with a double meaning in those clear eyes.
I glanced away like my napkin rolling was as important as the signing of the Magna Carta or something.
The café had cleared out, and when Frannie said she was going in back to check on the order, that left me and the chick magnet all alone. Great, because suddenly, the restaurant felt like a bedroom. The space had gotten intimate, the air thicker, my pulse faster.
All because of this player’s strange lady killer voodoo.
I knew he was still watching me, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked up to find him grinning, like he had a million dirty thoughts running through his mind.
My belly flipped, but I stayed cool. “You shouldn’t look at people like that.”
“Like what?”
Voice, molasses. Eyes, liquid heat. He was good . . . real good at forcing a conversation out of someone who didn’t want to talk.
“Like you’re a perv,” I said.
“Ah. I see my reputation precedes me.”
If I’d expected him to be insulted by my honesty, he sure wasn’t.
Frannie appeared in the kitchen window. “Fifteen more minutes. That okay?”
“That’s plenty okay.” Micah nodded at Frannie as she left to help Mom with the last of the order.
Then I was all his again. Double yay.
He chuckled at my avoidance. “Now that ain’t fair, Shelby. You don’t even know me, but I get the feeling you already don’t like me. You ought to give a guy some time to earn that attitude you put out.”
I shook my head, stuffing a rolled napkin and silverware into a mason jar.
“It’s because of your QB boy, right?” he asked. “You’re pissed because his girlfriend made a big mistake with me.”
Oh my God, he was going there. “Didn’t you have something to do with that mistake? And, by the way, she has a name. Jadyn Dandritch.”
He negligently shrugged.
“And what does that mean?” Was he going to tell me he’d set out to seduce her for Rex?
“I know her name just fine.”
It’d been a dumb thought, anyway. “Did you know that she was taken?”
He managed to look slightly guilty, but the lazy cockiness he’d come in with still overrode everything else.
I made a disgusted sound and went back to rolling napkins. The loyalty-testing rumor about him and Jadyn floated away from my mind, finally leaving me alone.
“Hey,” he said in that low, smooth voice. “At least I’m straight about what I do. I don’t hide that I’m an asshole.”
My jaw almost hit the floor, and I guessed he took that as encouragement.
“Yeah, I’m talking about your boy Rex,” he said. “Wasn’t there something I heard about him cheating on you back at college and trying to get away with it?”
Wow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have something against Rex.”
Micah held up a finger. “Let me guess—I’m wracked with envy because he’s a successful jock who brings his town happiness and honor.” He shrugged again, so careless as he kept leaning against the counter. “Now that I put it that way, maybe an inferior specimen like me should be jealous.”
I shook my head. He liked Rex just about as much as I liked him.
“How about that,” he said in a lower voice. “You do still have it bad for that boy.” He cocked one of those long, slanted eyebrows. “Good to know.”
Good to know, my ass. I stood my ground and finished my work. Evie had advised me to take a stand earlier, and it was actually easier to do with this guy than those kids at the dock.
“What’s even more interesting,” he said, just like we were still in a conversation, “is that you’re the last person in this town I expected to be judgmental, especially with how you handled the breakup.”
I smacked down a napkin set. “Holy crap, what are you? Oprah?”
“I’d like to tell you I have no idea what an Oprah is, but no one escapes her. Not even in a repair shop.”
He was so hilarious. “Has it occurred to you that you sound a little judgmental yourself about me?”
“That has occurred.” His drawl was deliberate, and he actually seemed to be turning over the possibility in his mind. But then that charm-ridden smile took over again. “You could be right. I think this town has something pissy in the water that we’re all drinking.”
I grabbed the empty container from the table, heading toward the back. I could distribute the rest of t
he rolled napkins after he left. Who had time for this?
“Nice talking to you, Shelby.”
He said it like this wouldn’t be the last time he’d be stopping by. But I wasn’t about to invite him back, so I kept on moving.
As I barged through the swinging door and shoved the utensil container on a lower shelf, Mom and Frannie were busy packing Micah’s order into the bag he’d brought in, except that Mom was making that headache face again.
I could relate. “Mom, you look terrible.”
She didn’t wait for me to ask if she needed aspirin again. “Sweetie, could you do me a favor and run to the store to pick up some Tylenol? I just need enough to get me through service tonight.”
“Will do.” And I seized the opportunity to jam out of there, snatching my keys and purse, going through the back door, climbing into my truck, and zooming toward the market, which was only about five minutes away.
The entire ride I went over what’d gone down with Micah. Who the hell was he to drop those little verbal bombs on me? Was that how he worked girls up, by poking at them and playing the bad, argumentative boy?
Trouble. Didn’t need it, didn’t want it.
Putting him out of my mind, I parked and ran inside Kroger. Last time I’d been here, during spring break, I’d made my one and only trip out of the house to get groceries. The Rex debacle had just happened, and I’d been successful at avoiding everyone in town until vacation ended.
But they had long memories in Aidan Falls. How long? I’d have to wait and see.
Now, I kept my head down as I headed for the medicines, hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew, hoping that by the time I got back to the café, Micah would be gone. I was good at dodging, so chances were that I could do it long enough with him so that he’d get over the temptation of pursuing the QB’s ex-girlfriend and find someone else to “flirt” with. I suspected that my involvement with Rex had something to do with his minor fixation on me, but that was his issue, not mine.
I rounded the corner, ready to grab some Tylenol and go, then came to an awkward halt.
A girl my age, with curly, long black hair, was stocking shelves. She was thin, but in a way that showed off slender curves, and her skin was what cocoa looked like when you mixed it with milk.
Her hazel eyes widened when she saw me.
Jadyn Dandritch?
Evie was right about her—the laughing, gentle high school classmate who’d decided to go to a community college did look sadder, her complexion dull, her clothes under her market apron wrinkled.
Before I could say anything, she stumbled backward, then turned around, walking fast, picking up speed around the corner before I could say anything.
Running away, just like I’d been doing with everyone, too.
4
I got home around eleven, after helping Mom clean up the café. She’d stayed even longer with Frannie and the other three women who were currently crashing at our house, and they were talking business while kicking back with their nightly round of wine.
You’d think that a Libertarian like Mom would let her kid—who was studying business in school, by the way—have some vino and biz talk, too, but nooo. Mom could be pretty old school about some things, like underage drinking and being protective of her daughter when it came to guys. So no wine for me.
I headed for my room, which was actually a tiny casita near the pool, which stood empty because it saved money on maintenance. In fact, I wouldn’t have been shocked if, one day, I came home to find another one of Mom’s gardens filling the big cement hole.
It was small in here, but very private, seeing as I’d moved in after Mom had started inviting women to stay in the main house in exchange for helping her with the café.
I opened the windows and sliding glass door, letting in some barely cooler air while turning on the ceiling fan, then thumped back onto my trundle bed. I spread out my arms against the cherry blossom bedcover that Gramps had bought me when Evie and I had been going through a Japanese manga, anime, and Hello Kitty phase years ago. Meanwhile, the fan circled above me, casting shadows over a room I didn’t really belong in anymore—the slow-ass computer on my desk with its ink jet printer, the elliptical machine Mom had stored in here as proof that her junk was claiming my space little by little, my still unpacked suitcase on the floor. The only things that seemed truly welcoming were a few paintings that Evie and I had fooled around with last summer, before college. Total Jackson Pollock time, with house paints from the garage dripped over the canvases.
Life was messy—that’s what the pictures seemed to be saying long before I’d actually started experiencing that sentiment post-Rex.
My eyes drifted shut, not because I was trying to block out those paintings, but because it’d been a long day, running into Rex, Jadyn, Micah . . .
His name was the last thing I remembered before I was jarred by Evie’s voice.
“Wakey-wakey, Shel!”
I squinted and sat up, discombobulated. As I blinked, I saw Evie, wearing strappy sandals, cut-off jeans, and a T-shirt with dolphins on it, her red hair done up in a spikey bun with chopsticks sticking out. She had on a bunch of leather bracelets, too, and the pierced loop in her bottom lip caught the light. She’d cruised through the open sliding glass doors like it was nothing. Then again, she’d never knocked before, so why start now?
“Next time you just appear like that,” I said, “give me a warning. What if I stabbed you or something because I thought you were a robber?”
“Hah, you still keep that knife under the bed?”
“Yeah.” And I’d been doing it ever since I saw my first Dracula movie on TV when I was a little girl. Bringing a knife to a fang fight sounded fair enough to me. Also, knives trumped all unsuspecting robbers.
“There ain’t a criminal on earth who’d brave this sweatbox,” Evie said, flopping into the swiveling chair by my desk. “No air-conditioning again this summer?”
“Can’t afford it.” I ran a hand over my hair, which had slumped down from its ponytail, then glanced at my alarm clock. “It’s almost eleven-thirty. Shouldn’t you be sleeping like an angel, especially if you’re starting work in the café tomorrow?” I’d already called Evie about my conversation with Mom this afternoon.
“I wouldn’t be paying midnight calls unless I had fun news. Besides, you weren’t answering your phone, and your light was on.”
“I guess I was out.”
“Clearly. So you want to hear the tidings I bring?”
“I don’t know. Do you have more delightful rumors for me?” Welcome back to Aidan Falls, Land of the Wagging Tongue.
“No rumors, just fact.” Evie leaned forward. “So Micah Wyatt picked up his food from your café earlier, right?”
Unfortunately. “Everyone says that’s a regular thing. What about it?”
“Well, this time, it seems his pick-up was more than ‘regular.’” Evie drew her news out with an evil smile.
“Evie . . . ?”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Evidently, Micah made a bet.”
I must’ve still been half-asleep, because this wasn’t registering. A bet? Like in poker?
“Shelby,” Evie said, reading my confusion. “He made a bet about you. With his cousins. That’s why he ventured into the Angel’s Seat today, to start off this bet.”
Things were still twirling and whirling in my noggin. “What would he bet on me about?”
“Oh, don’t be thick. My cousin Amy said one of her friends overheard Deacon and Darwin talking about it in the backroom when she went to pick up her TV from the shop before they closed today. Since we’re family and she knows you’re my bestie, she texted me.” Her brown eyes lit up with mischief. “The twins bet Micah that he couldn’t nail you before the end of summer.”
The first question I thought of was, “Why does everyone around here hav
e a cousin except me?” The second one got me slowly to my feet as a rush of excitement tumbled through me, traitorous and wrong.
“Is he off his meds or something?” I asked. “Like I’d sleep with him.”
Evie pressed her lips together, and it wasn’t because she was holding back a smile. She was measuring me, probably reading the flush that’d suddenly splashed over me like big drips of red paint on a canvas, like one of our messy paintings.
“The thing is,” she said, “he seems to think he has a good shot at you, and he was testing out his chances at the café.”
“Please, he doesn’t even want to have sex with me-me.” There wasn’t much oxygen in my lungs now. “Micah Wyatt made this bet because I’m Rex’s ex-girlfriend, and Micah has an inferiority complex about him. I could tell even in the ten minutes he was flapping his gums at me in the café that he’d love to get the best of Rex.”
“If that’s true, then I have to wonder about Jadyn Dandritch, too. Maybe she was also part of a bet with him and his cousins, and those rumors about him purposely going after her are real.”
I shook my head. “Deacon and Darwin played football, Evie. They wouldn’t make a bet with Micah that would shame Rex.” Or would they?
Weren’t they doing that by using me as a target? Then again, I wasn’t exactly Rex’s girlfriend anymore.
“I don’t know about that,” Evie said. “The twins were on the Rebels years ago, playing the trench positions. After they graduated, they’d come to the games and yell out “Glamor Boy” at Rex. Maybe now that Rex is riding such a high horse at college, they want to keep their quarterback humble. Maybe they don’t even like him all that much since Rex got all the glory and they’re . . .”
“Stuck in Aidan Falls.”
Evie’s theory was worth considering. But I had another one that’d just blipped into my head, and it sounded downright crazy.
What if Micah, the new womanizer in town, was playing his own games, and they’d started with Jadyn? What if he’d already gotten bored with Aidan Falls before he’d seduced her and decided to see if Jadyn was as faithful as her reputation said?
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