Everybody Knows (Sunnyside #1)

by Jacie Floyd

  She should get up and move before her muscles stiffened up completely. She needed something to eat, but her poor tired feet and legs just wouldn’t obey her commands to move.

  Maybe she could just doze here for a minute.

  An abrupt knock on the door woke her up. She’d been dreaming about her worthless ex-fiancé. In the dream scenario, he’d been taunting her about being alone again or being isolated again or running away from her problems... or something. She couldn’t really remember, but he was definitely taunting her, his handsome face so smug and supercilious that she wanted to smack him.

  When the knock came again, she jumped up, disoriented, and aware of the protest from her overused muscles. “What?” Standing in the middle of the room, she tried to get her bearings until she realized she needed to open the door.

  “Delivery man,” a voice said from the porch.

  Suspicious, she looked out to find Zach on her doorstep. He’d changed into cargo shorts and a T-shirt, looking very rugged and relaxed. Her heart kicked into a funny little two-step at the sight of him. She unlocked and opened the door wide.

  “I didn’t place an order.”

  “But you should have. I bet you’re starving.”

  “I am.” She grinned. “And bless you, you’re always arriving to feed me. What did you bring me this time?”

  “Chinese.” He held up a big white bag first and then a smaller blue one. “And ice cream. Can I come in?”

  “Welcome.” She made a sweeping gesture that invited him inside. “Mi casa es su casa.”

  “In this case, literally.”

  “True, but that doesn’t mean you can come and go like you live here.”

  “Too bad.” He looked around at the disarray. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  “It does have a certain appeal, doesn’t it? I’m really into the new hunt-and-search style of decorating. If you want it, and I mean really want it, then you have to hunt and search for it.”

  “Well, the style works for you. Do you have somewhere we can eat or should we just pull up a box? I brought paper plates just in case.”

  “Let’s retreat to the kitchen where there’s a slightly more organized level of chaos. And we should put the ice cream in the freezer.”

  “Wow, this looks great. You have most of your kitchen stuff unpacked and put away.”

  “Don’t be too impressed. In Chicago, I had an efficiency apartment, so my kitchen storage consisted of four cabinets, and two drawers. My kitchen collection is very limited, and for the time being anyway, I have room to spare.”

  He looked back through the living and dining rooms. “I can’t believe you had all this stuff in a five-hundred-foot efficiency.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I don’t know how I did. I had a little storage cubicle, but all the stuff from there went into the garage.”

  While Harper swept a stack of stuff off the kitchen table, Zach hunted for plates and silverware. Lucky guesses led him to them on the first try.

  “How did you do that?”

  “I guess subliminally I remembered that’s where they were kept when my aunt and uncle lived here, so it must be the right place for them.”

  “Good to know I didn’t screw with your cosmic memory.” She pulled an assortment of little square boxes out of the white paper bag. “What do we have here?”

  “I have Kung Pao Chicken and Shrimp for me. There’s a tofu and broccoli thing for you. Spring rolls and vegetarian fried rice to share. How’s that sound?”

  “Perfect. I’m so hungry I could devour the carton and be happy.”

  “After the day you put in, I imagine so.” They took seats across from one another and dug in. “I almost got you the Kung Pao Shrimp, but I didn’t know if you ate fish.”

  She looked at him funny. “Um, no. Vegetarian, remember?”

  He looked right back and shrugged. “I know some vegetarians who eat fish.”

  “No, you don’t,” Harper stated unequivocally.

  “Yes, I do.” His chin jutted out stubbornly.

  “Let me clarify for you.” She rested her fork on her plate. “Do they eat fish?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then they aren’t vegetarians. People who are vegetarians in all aspects of their diets except that they eat fish are called pescatarians or pesco-vegetarians. True vegetarians don’t eat anything that has a face. Or a mother.”

  “That’s a pretty strict interpretation, isn’t it?”

  “It’s what you are or it’s not. I don’t make this stuff up. I adhere to a set of principles that are important to me. But everyone else gets to make up their own mind.”

  “Okay, then. Let me ask you something. Don’t you were shoes made of leather?”

  Her face flushed as she admitted the contradiction. “Yes.”

  “So how is it all right to wear the skin of an animal that had a face but not to eat its flesh?”

  “I’m not vegan, so I allow myself to eat or use animal byproducts. It was already dead when someone decided to use the rest of it and make its skin into shoes. That’s just practical. And efficient.”

  “I don’t see the logic there.”

  “Actually, I have some problems with it, too, but my vegetarianism is a preference, not a religion. I try not to buy things made of leather, but I’m not quite there. You’ll never see me in a leather jacket, but shoes, belts, and purses... I sometimes make allowance for those. And if someone gives me something made of leather, it would be rude to refuse.”

  He chuckled at her faulty reasoning. “What made you become a vegetarian?”

  “I’d never been a big meat-eater, but when I was sixteen, they showed a movie at my school about the inhumane treatment of animals by the meat-packing industry. That was enough to turn anyone off meat. I don’t want to eat a living creature to be ill-treated or shot up with steroids or fed by artificial means just so I can eat it.”

  “Honey, the people around here grow their animals humanely. Then they slaughter, butcher and eat them.”

  She could only shrug. “Their choice.”

  “It’s survival of the fittest. Animals were put here on earth for us to eat.”

  She’d heard this argument before but couldn’t be that cavalier about it. “Then let’s go get Pippa and Cleo and roast ‘em up.”

  “You know that’s not the same thing.”

  She sipped. “It is to me.”

  “I admire your principles. I just don’t share them.”

  “But as a physician, don’t you think it’s a healthier diet and lifestyle?”

  “Most people overeat and consume too much salt and sugar. A lot of them eat too many fatty or fried foods. Vegetarianism has some benefits for some people. I don’t advocate eating a meat-heavy diet, but meat is a major source of protein. A well-balanced diet includes moderate meat intake.”

  “But too much meat is terrible for the digestive system and a major contributor to colon cancer and heart disease.”

  “In excess. And many people who leave meat out of their diet lower their immune systems. Fruits and vegetables are good for you, but the addition of fish and meats with fruits and vegetables is better.”

  “I attribute my good health and weight to my vegetarian diet and plenty of exercise, so I think I’ll stick with it.”

  “Since it seems to work for you, and I’m not your doctor, thank God, I won’t try to change your mind.” He forked in another bite of his Kung Pao. “But that outlook won’t make you very popular here.”

  She nearly snorted. “The jury’s still out on that one. And I’m not sure I care if they don’t like me, I just want them to like my library.”

  “I heard a lot of complimentary comments after you offered to pay the workers.” He considered her for a moment, and she felt the pull of that connection between them again. “You do care what people think, though.”

  Crunching into a spring roll, she couldn’t honestly deny it, but she sure as hell didn’t intend to admit it.
<
br />   “Why is that?”

  “Classic Outsider Syndrome, I guess. I traveled so much with my mother when I was young, I never felt like I belonged or fit in anyplace. It was quite the untraditional lifestyle, and like so many people that don’t have a place to call home, I always craved what I didn’t have. Acceptance. Stability. Roots.”

  “Why did your mother travel so much?”

  “As a professional stylist, she goes where the work is. Sometimes she works for fashion magazines or couture houses, even television shows. Sometimes for individuals or clothing stores. Either way, the jobs are temporary and involve extensive travel. We were always jetting off from one fashion hot spot or photo layout to another. She’s very chic and sophisticated and, in some circles, she’s quite the last word on what to wear and when to wear this with that.”

  “And is your sister older or younger?”

  “Half-sister.” She’d taken a sip of her drink before correcting herself. “Two half-sisters, actually, and a half-brother, if you count my father’s other children, which I don’t.”

  “Because you don’t spend time with them?”

  “My mother had kind of a hot fling with my father that burned bright for a few months and then fizzled out. They were the quintessential example of opposites attracting only long enough to conceive a child and realize their mistake before moving on. It was textbook, really, and now they have nothing but disdain for one another.”

  “So you’re the oldest?”

  “Yeah, when I was four, my mother went the other romantic direction by attracting a tempestuous, artistic personality exactly like her. He was a… musician, and pretty good to me, all things considered. They were together for quite about five years before the constant drama wore everyone out and they parted ways. But they shared custody of my sister, Fiona, and I frequently tagged along with her when she stayed with him. Once India and Fiona’s father grew up a little bit, they realized they couldn’t live without one another and eventually got back together. They’re my family. They drive me crazy sometimes, but I can’t imagine my life without Fiona. Or her father.”

  “Where does Fiona live?”

  “Much like my mother, she lives anywhere and everywhere, but she has an apartment in New York City she calls home or she stays with her dad at one of his... Well, she stays with her dad.” She didn’t want to identify Fiona’s dad’s just yet since his fame superseded Fiona’s and India’s combined, and he had more houses scattered around the world than Harper could usually keep up with. And even someone like Zach would recognize Wexley Wilde’s name.

  Frankly, she adored Wex. Everyone assumed he still lived the excessive sex-and-drugs lifestyle of a rock-and-roll superstar, but he’d given all that up a long time ago and made sure Fiona and Harper stayed away from it, too.

  “And Fiona’s a model?”

  Harper nodded. “One of the best, most beautiful, and well-paid ones. You’d recognize her name if you kept up with such things, but you’d probably recognize her face even if you don’t. She’s quite well-known.”

  “Does she look like you?”

  The answer to that question must be obvious. She’d said Fiona was beautiful, hadn’t she? “No, she looks like my mom, with a dash of her dad’s sultry swagger thrown in.” Fiona hated it when anyone said Wexley was hot, but fifty million women couldn’t be wrong. “She hit the jackpot in the genes’ lottery. But she’s a great sister, and a lot of the time growing up, it was just me and her toughing it out through some of our mom’s or her dad’s more creative escapades.”

  “That’s how you got to be so adaptable. Resilient and efficient.”

  “I guess so, but this conversation must be boring you to tears.” She forked up her last bite of fried rice and turned the subject away from her family and history. “How are your car-wreck patients today? Did your family get home?”

  “My patients are doing great. Two of the boys went home and the third one is holding his own after additional surgery. And as for my family—”

  He’d put his phone on the table when he got there, and at that moment, it buzzed. Leaning over it, he checked the visual.

  “—that’s them now. Excuse me for a second.”

  He walked outside, onto the screened porch. Clearing the plates, Harper got out bowls and all three ice cream containers. He had good taste. Cherry Garcia, Chunky Monkey, and Chocolate Fudge Brownie. The Ben and Jerry’s trifecta. It didn’t get any better than that.

  “Hey, Josh, what’s up?...Yeah, okay... I’m at Uncle Tim’s house, still finishing up a couple of things. I’ll be there soon. How much longer for you?... Okay. Everything all right? How’s Dad?... Yep, great. It was awesome... Sure, and tell Rachel her house is empty again, so if she sees anyone lurking inside, she’s free to bash them over the head... Okay, you, too.”

  “Everything all right?” she asked when he returned to the kitchen.

  “Great.” He jerked his chin toward the cartons on the table. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like. Are those okay?”

  “Are you kidding? This is ice cream nirvana. The holy trinity. And people thought I wouldn’t have all the amenities I need in a small town. As long as there’s Ben and Jerry’s available, I’ll adjust. Which do you want?”

  “Cherry Garcia with a side of Chocolate Fudge Brownie.” She dipped as directed. “What are you having?”

  “I think I’ll have the Chunky Monkey with a side of the chocolate.” She put the lids back on the two containers and reached for the third one. “And a dab of Cherry Garcia on top.”

  He laughed. “I wanted that combination, too, but it seemed overly indulgent after you lectured me on proper nutrition. I can’t believe you have such a sweet tooth.”

  “I try to keep it in check, but moving is stressful, and ice cream provides that protein you think I might be missing with the absence of meat.” She smirked and licked the dipping spoon. “And I can do self-delusion as well as the next person. The Chocolate Fudge Brownie is the only indulgence here. The other two contain fruit.”

  “There’s fudge sauce in the fridge, if you want it. And whipped cream.”

  “You demon! You really do offer me the most tempting treats.”

  He laughed with her, and they settled on the back porch to enjoy their treat, cozy in the soft and velvety darkness. “I talked to Liam about that barn slash gym he’s setting up. With all these carbs and sugars you’ve been feeding me, I need to get back to exercising right away.” She arched her spine, pushed out her chest, and stretched. Her spine sent out audible cracking noises. “But the way my back feels now, I need yoga, not cardio.”

  “Here.” Zach stood her up and moved into place behind her. “Let me help with that.”

  He put one arm around her stomach, the other across her shoulders, and then pulled back. The crunching sound filled the night air. When he released her, every bone, muscle and joint in Harper’s body went limp. Good thing he still had a grip on her.

  But maybe her physical reaction had more to do with the front of his body touching the back of hers from feet to shoulders. Now, if they just laid down on the floor and rolled around for a few minutes... or hours... she’d forget all about back pain.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How’s that?” Zach’s mouth lingered so close his breath teased Harper’s ear.

  “Great for me.” She turned her face to see him more clearly. If she read him right, his actions had moved from medical therapy into something more like... foreplay.

  The light from the kitchen window shadowed his eyelashes against his cheeks. And the way he smelled was nothing short of delicious. With a slight head adjustment, she could turn the moment into a kiss. She wanted desperately to kiss him, taste him, enjoy that mouth on hers until she was breathless.

  But she couldn’t do it.

  She didn’t know him yet, not really, and she wasn’t ready to jump into a relationship that might affect her acceptance in this small town. She’d be living in Sunnyside for two years. More tha
n enough time to explore whatever attraction she felt for him. Whatever attraction he might or might not feel for her.

  Her voice came out in a choke when she tried to speak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “But not so great for you. After the day I’ve had, I probably smell like an old sweat sock.”

  His expression went from intense to distant in a flash. “I’ve smelled worse.” He stepped back and returned to the old wicker chair. “I worked on a farm growing up, remember?”

  She swatted at him for the insult, returning them to a relaxed and friendly footing.

  “So what are your plans for tomorrow?”

  “I have a firm commitment with some packing boxes that will keep me involved all morning. I plan to spend the afternoon at the festival in the afternoon. Any must-see events you’d recommend for a newcomer?”

  “The softball game kind of kicks off the afternoon. A lot of people go to that because it’s the local business owners against the politicians and city employees. Everyone’s got an ax to grind against one group or the other, but it’s mostly a friendly rivalry. And then the social hour for the library will be mandatory for you. Lots of food and people to meet. There’ll be a band in the town square with dancing until it’s dark enough for fireworks.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “Yeah, it is. If you like that kind of thing.” He didn’t sound like he did, but she didn’t press him on it as he stood to take his empty bowl inside.

  Just as he reached the kitchen door, a woman rapped on the screen door. A woman who looked softer and more vibrant, but startlingly like Zach. “Hi, honey,” she said to him. “I’m home. Did you miss me?”

  He swung open the screen door to let her inside. “How could I? You called me every fifteen minutes.”

  She smiled up at him, looking so pretty and tanned and relaxed that she made Harper feel like a wallflower without even trying. “Well, there was a lot going on. You never call me to volunteer the details I need, so I have to call and pry them out of you.”

  He turned to Harper. “This is my sister, Rachel. Rach, this is the new librarian, Harper Simmons.”