Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  He smiled, and I felt heat rise to my face. I hadn't expected to end up in a completely foreign land with a big slice of wood in my hand, so it was impossible for me to try to seem composed. I felt a sudden flash of heat like I sometimes got when I was extremely nervous—a hot flash, if you will. I found myself feeling like I needed some air.

  I grabbed the scarf that had been hanging around my neck and unwound it, sighing with relief as I began fanning myself with it. I was so overwhelmed that I was breathing at the pace of someone who had just run up a flight of stairs. I took a few deep, calming breaths and tried to get myself together, and then I realized that Joe had just been standing there, watching me. He was staring at my neck right at the place where my scarf had been. I tried to concentrate on slowing my breathing but it was hard with him in such close proximity and looking at me like he saw something really interesting.

  "What?" I said, bringing my fingertips up to my neck at the spot where he was staring. I thought maybe I had something on there.

  He let his eyes meet mine for a second, but then he looked at my neck again. He reached up and let his fingertip touch my neck, right under my jaw.

  "It's just a little splinter," he whispered teasingly.

  "I know," I said, pulling away from him a little since I wasn't sure why he was saying that. "I just got overheated for a second."

  "I can see how fast your heart's beating," he said, touching my neck with his fingertip one more time.

  There was no way I was going to tell him that my heart was pounding for other reasons, so I just let out a little laugh and draped my scarf around my neck again.

  Joe pulled back and stared at me with a thoughtful expression. He had never really looked at me that way before, and I wondered what he was thinking. He started to say something and then seemed to change his mind. I wondered what he was thinking.

  "Let me see it," he said, holding his hand out.

  I put my hand in his, and he tilted my palm toward the light so he could get a better look at it. I was shaking, but I could tell he thought it was from the splinter because he tenderly held my hand in both of his to steady it.

  "This is a thorn in your flesh," he said, smiling a little as he repeated my words.

  "I told you," I said.

  Chapter 6

  Joe held my hand under the light and closely inspected the splinter. "How in the world did this thing end up in your hand, Lu?"

  I stared at it, feeling shaken. It was a thin black line that looked like it had been drawn with a sharpie. Joe tilted it to the light to see if it was visually raised, which it wasn't. It was protruding a little bit, but it must have been buried under several layers of skin because it was barely sticking up at all.

  That speck of blood was so scarcely visible that Joe had to squint down at it like I did to figure out which direction it had gone in. I could tell that's what he was doing. I gazed at the side of his flawless face as he studied my hand. It was the exact perfect way to be stared at by Joe. I had all his attention yet he wasn't at looking at my face so he didn't know I was blushing.

  "I think we can get it with some tweezers," he said after a thorough evaluation. "Do you have any?"

  "Tweezers?" I asked. I stared at him in disbelief, and he returned it with a shrug and an amused grin.

  "I'll bet somebody has some tweezers with them," he said.

  He held onto my hand even though he was no longer looking at it. I rarely, if ever, had been this close to Joe. We'd been in the same room lots of times, but never in proximity this close. His eyes were literally the most penetrating things I had ever seen, and the affect they had on me was even greater up close.

  "Don't you think I should go to a doctor or something?" I glanced at my hand. "I mean, that's pretty big. It might need stitches."

  He laughed a little at that, but both of us got quiet for a few seconds when a lady passed by, headed to the restroom.

  "You won't need stiches," he assured me. He stared at it as if to make sure of that diagnosis before shaking his head casually. "I wish you would let me do it, but I'm gonna let my brother take a look at it just to make you feel better." He took me by the wrist, carrying my hand right in front of him like he was transporting precious cargo. I could feel his chest with my arm and hand, which was a welcome distraction from the searing sensation in the palm of my hand.

  We walked back toward the crowd of people near the small stage. Emily caught sight of us first because Eli and Rebecca were both preoccupied with the band. She made a curious expression when she saw Joe holding my hand to his chest. He gestured to his brother, who was on the other side of Emily, and she turned to get Eli's attention for us.

  By the time that all went down, we had already made our way to the place where they were standing. "She's got a thorn in her flesh," Joe said as we approached. It was loud where they were standing, and he said it at a volume they couldn’t quite hear.

  "What?" Eli asked, leaning over his wife and nearly yelling over the music.

  "A splinter!" Joe said. He held out my hand so that the others could see the black line along the heel of it. The women both cringed, and Eli stepped toward me to take my hand from Joe.

  "Where'd you get this?" he asked, staring down at it.

  "The hand rail."

  "I guess you'll be wanting me to take it out," he said dryly.

  "Unless you think I should go see a doctor."

  Eli glanced at me with the tiniest hint of a smile. "I am a doctor," he said.

  "I know, but we're in a pub. Nobody's got tweezers, or stitches if—"

  "Actually, I do have tweezers," Rebecca said, coming to join the huddle and already digging in her purse.

  "Come on. I'll bet we can find a first aid kit that has everything we need," Eli said, pulling me toward the bar with him and leaving the others to follow.

  "Do you think it's gonna need stitches?" I asked as we walked.

  "Why would it need stitches?" he asked.

  "It seems pretty deep in there."

  "I'm just gonna pull it out the way it went in and put a bandage on it. You'll be good as new in about two minutes."

  "It's a big one," I said.

  "Yep. At least it's skimming the surface and not going straight in, right?"

  I cringed at the thought of something this long going straight into my skin.

  "I'm already freaked out enough as it is," I said. "Are you sure it's okay to just pull it right out in a pub?"

  "Of course it's okay."

  Eli talked to the pub manager, and we got access to a first aid kit and a clean towel. Eli brought the supplies back to our table, and set up a makeshift doctor's office where he sanitized his wife's tweezers and my skin with an alcohol swab.

  Rebecca and Grant both got out their phones and began shining flashlights directly on my hand so that Eli could see what he was doing. Drake offered to do it if needed, but he seemed more interested in taking pictures.

  I couldn’t watch. I shifted in my seat so that I could turn away. There were at least ten or fifteen onlookers standing around, but nobody was in the seat directly next to me. I stared at the empty space, on the padded bench, hoping and praying I didn't pass out in front of all these nice people.

  "It's just a little splinter," Eli assured me, using his best bedside manner.

  "I know, but I just want it to get out," I answered without looking at him.

  "Somebody come hold this girl's other hand," Eli said.

  "I got that," I heard Joe say.

  I knew Eli was saying it because he didn't want me to flail while he worked, but I was happy to have Joe next to me either way. I was sitting on the side of the table that had a bench seat, and Joe slid in next to me. My splintered hand was extended across the table in front of Eli as I turned the other way, staring directly at Joe's chest. He moved closer until our legs were touching and my forehead was resting on his chest. He took my free hand in his, holding it firmly as if to assure his brother that he would prevent me from
thrashing about.

  I honestly wish I could have enjoyed the contact more, but I was anxious about the splinter coming out. I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on Joe's chest, and he put his hand around my head, holding me close.

  The whole thing took about one minute.

  There was some pressure and some talking where Eli told his wife to adjust her flashlight, but mostly Joe kept his hand over my ear and I just stayed there, imagining I was doing something other than having a giant splinter extracted from my hand.

  The music continued, but there was complete silence around our table as Eli worked on my hand. There was some poking and pressure, followed by some stinging, and then ultimately a feeling of relief.

  I heard the crowd's amazed reaction, so I figured all or most of it had come out. There came a cold, wet sensation on my hand followed by some pressure around my whole hand.

  Joe spoke near my ear. "He's got it out," he said. "He might be putting a bandage on it, but he's done. It's out."

  I sat straight up while trying to leave my hand in the same place. As glorious as it had been to take refuge in Joe's arms, I obviously couldn't continue resting my head on his chest now that it was over.

  I was relieved that it wasn't as painful as I thought it might be.

  "Did the whole thing come out?" I asked.

  "I should hope so," Eli said, lifting the side of the towel so I could inspect the splinter.

  I gasped. "Oh my gosh, seriously? That's big. Was that it?"

  Everyone standing around answered me at the same time, agreeing that it was the object that had been lodged in my hand. They began remarking on it and leaning over to get a look, so Eli just took the towel out from under my hand and handed it to his wife so she could pass it around.

  He glanced at me as he continued bandaging my hand. "I rinsed it with some sterile solution and I'm putting some ointment. It came out clean, though. It'll heal up quickly."

  Eli flashed the heel of my hand at me just before he applied the bandage so that I could see the place where the splinter had been. The black line was replaced with a red one, but he was right, it looked clean.

  I smiled. "Thank you so much," I said. "I feel like I owe you something for doing that."

  "Yeah, right," Joe said, teasing his brother. "That was fun, and he knows it. I tried to talk her into letting me do it but she wanted a real doctor." Joe rolled his eyes and made quotes when he said real doctor, and everyone laughed at him.

  Just as this was happening, the towel got passed back in my general direction. Grant held it in front of me, and I reached out and took it from him with a thankful smile. "Now, I kinda wish I woulda watched him do it," I said to no one in particular as I stared at it. Drake heard me and said something about getting pictures of the whole thing. I knew he had, and I was happy about that because I would definitely want to see them later.

  Once the action was over and Eli had all his supplies gathered, everyone went back to doing their thing—making conversation with each other, and listening to the music. Joe was still sitting on the other side of me, so I shifted so I could talk to him. He was glancing at his phone, but he smiled and put it away when he saw me out of the corner of his eye.

  "Thank you," I said. "That was crazy."

  He smiled and let his eye roam over my face. "It really was. I was trying not to make it seem like a big deal so you wouldn't get worried, but that thing was huge."

  "I told you!" I said with wide eyes.

  It didn't really sink in on any spiritual level (not yet, anyway), but I did think it was cool and odd that I had just had a conversation about a thorn in the flesh and now I had a literal one.

  "I think it's too small to keep for a souvenir, or I would," I told him.

  "Why would it be too small?"

  "Because it would just get lost. I mean, it's not really big enough to put in my pocket or my purse without losing track of it."

  "So ask for a baggie," Joe said. "I mean if you want to keep it," he added, making a funny face and sounding uncertain as to why I'd think of it as a souvenir in the first place.

  I stared at him, and he stared right back at me, both of us wearing a little grin. We just stayed there for a few long seconds, listening to the music and chaos going on around us, and having no idea what the other person was thinking. I felt connected with Joe on some new level, like the splinter incident had brought us together somehow. Not that we were ready to ride off into the sunset or anything, but something had shifted slightly with us—I could tell by the way he stared at me.

  We were sitting there not saying anything to each other for I don't know how long when Eli said, "Are you coming?"

  One glance in his direction, and we could see that he and Rebecca were back on their way to the dance floor and wanted to know if Joe was coming. Emily was standing next to them, regarding Joe with an expectant grin.

  He glanced at me, but before he could say anything, I said, "Oh, yeah, go, for sure! I still need to go the restroom, anyway. I never made it there the first time. Thank you for helping me get this thing out, though."

  Joe smiled at me before nodding with a finger in the air to his brother, indicating that he was on his way. "You're welcome," he said, "but all I did was go get my brother."

  "And you helped me hide my eyes," I said.

  He was in the process of standing when he leaned over to speak to me with an easy grin. "That was my favorite part," he said. He turned and walked off after that, looking cool as a cucumber while I was left sitting there, feeling dazed and weak in the knees.

  "Would ye mind a dance?" Grant asked.

  "It's our last night here!" Drake said, trying to encourage me as he made his way to the dance floor with a young woman from a nearby table.

  I smiled at him, and he waved his hand, encouraging me to follow them. I glanced at Grant who shrugged and stuck his hand out to entice me.

  I decided to do it. I really didn't even need to use the restroom, and Drake was right, who knew when, if ever, I would be able to go to Ireland again. I knew myself well enough to know I would regret this moment later if I didn't go out there and dance.

  I smiled and took Grant's hand as we made our way to the little makeshift stage area. Some people were swaying and dancing to the music on their own while other couples danced in a waltz-type position. It was chaotic and packed in that area, so no one really paid attention to what anyone else was doing.

  Grant and I found a place near the wall, and he turned me in his arms so that we were all set up to dance. I had danced with him a few other times at the wedding, so I was comfortable. I knew he was a gentleman, and I found it easy to relax with him. It helped that he was handsome—that gave me a little satisfaction since I had just witnessed Joe take off with Emily.

  I was aware that Joe and Emily were with the others who were close by, but I purposely avoided any glances in their direction while Grant and I danced. That song drew to a close, and a slower one began, causing everyone who had been dancing to either stop or switch motions to adjust to the slower rhythm. I chose not to slow dance with Grant, just because I could see that the smile he was wearing was slightly warmer than the one I was returning to him.

  I shifted out of Grant's grasp, adjusting my scarf so that I would have something to do with my hands.

  Chapter 7

  I had just finished dancing with Grant and was still standing next to him, watching the Irish band play one of their slower numbers when I heard a man's voice.

  "I didn't know you were coming over here," Joe said. His voice came from behind me, so it took me a few seconds to even register what was going on. There was a pause while I contemplated who had been the one to speak and who they had spoken to. I turned when I realized that it was Joe and he was talking to me.

  Joe's perfect face was staring back at me, and I smiled at him by instinct.

  "I thought you were staying over there," he said, gesturing to the table. "Going to the restroom or whatever."

 
I looked over his shoulder, expecting to find Emily. I saw her a few feet behind him, but she wasn't looking at us. I knew she was probably trying not to look on purpose, but I didn't really care. I focused on Joe again. I expected him to say something, but he just stood there and stared at me.

  Grant took a step closer so he could join us. I could feel him standing there beside me, so I glanced at him to find that he was smiling in Joe's direction.

  "They're good, aren't they?" Grant asked Joe in his Irish accent.

  "Yeah," Joe said. "I like 'em." He looked at me with a conspiratorial glance that said he didn't want to make small talk about the band. I smiled at him and shook my head a little. "I didn't get to dance with Lu at the wedding," he said, regarding Grant in a friendly but impassive way. "I think she owes me a dance."

  "Do ya owe the man a dance?" Grant asked, looking at me and playing along.

  I shrugged. "I might have said I owed him one for the splinter situation," I said.

  Grant lifted his hand and surrender. "Don let me get in the wey of yer agreement," he said.

  I glanced at Joe, and he lifted his eyebrows at me, offering me his hand. There were people everywhere, and I had to turn to the side as I took a step toward him.

  I vaguely registered Grant walking off to head back to the table, which made me absentmindedly consider Emily and her whereabouts. But they were just passing thoughts because the next thing I knew, Joe was pulling me into his arms.

  "I did not think you were coming over here," he said. He took one of my hands in his and put his other one around the small of my back. He didn't hold me tightly against him, but we were close enough that our bodies brushed continually as we swayed slowly to the music. I was too nervous to speak for about the first half-a-minute.

  "What'd you do with your thorn?" Joe asked, leaning in to speak near my ear.

  "It's in my pocket," I said. I took my hand from off of his shoulder and patted the front pocket of my jeans."

  He glanced down there and then smiled at me. "Feeling reckless," he said. He was referring to the bagless splinter in my pocket, but I was feeling pretty reckless all the way around. I felt reckless just being in his arms.