Chapter 2
PENN
I was surrounded by a crowd.People were filing in from all angles, and I could feel my palms growing sweaty. The girl I almost hit with my car had left, and yet the rest of the town seemed to still be circling me. Their questions were being fired so quickly from one end to the next that I couldn’t answer them fast enough.
“Who are you?” one person demanded.
I looked to the right. “Penn Murphy.”
The next one fired away. To the left. “Why are you here?”
I hesitated, and another person piped up.
“What business do you have in Aveline?”
To the right.
“Do you plan to be here for a while?”
And back to the left.
“Have you talked to Mr. Fitzgerald about this business?”
I stopped giving myself whiplash long enough to spot the woman with the braid standing in the back of the crowd, snickering with her friend. She caught my eye and waved before walking into the building behind her.
“Whoa, okay. Lots of questions. What are you guys, professional interrogators?” I chuckled uncomfortably and started to back away toward the sidewalk. The mob of people continued to follow me.
“Are you Teeny Bowman’s grandson? Doesn’t he look like Teeny Bowman’s grandson?” One woman looked to another as they both studied me.
“You’re right! But didn’t Teeny’s grandson have short hair?” the other asked.
The first woman shook her head. “Well, he could have let it grow. People let their hair grow, Marjorie!”
“I, uh, hello. I am not Teeny’s grandson, but ...It’s been lovely to meet you all!” I shouted before I dipped into the door nearest to me.
I shut it and leaned back, closing my eyes and sighing a breath of relief no one followed me in. I turned to face the window and noticed the slew of people practically pushed against the glass staring at me. I waved before muttering to myself as I realized I had made my way into a bakery. It was small, quaint, and smelled like blueberry.
“We’re actually closed for the night.” I looked up and saw the redhead from the crowd. She was standing at a table with a man wearing an apron, and the dark-haired woman I supposedly hit with my car was sitting on the counter, a smile spread wide across her face.
“Well, if it isn’t Lightning McQueen.”
The woman had one leg crossed over the other and was snacking on a donut, licking her fingers. “Are you hiding out in here? Did Aveline scare you off already? Who was it? I’ll bet it was Noreen. Did she ask you to come see her kitty? Well, she...” She chuckled to herself. “You know what? Nevermind. You should just see for yourself.”
She looked at the others, and the guy stood up, rolling his eyes. He extended his hand. “First of all, Noreen does not have a cat. Do not fall for it, whatever you do. And I’m Tuck. This is Lettie, and this is Darcy. She can be mean, but she’s a lot of bark and not much bite.” He paused for a moment. “You know, kind of like one of those little dogs.”
Darcy jumped off the counter and punched Tuck in the arm. “Way to go! Maybe I didn’t want the random guy who ran me over to know my name! Jesus, Tuck, you probably just secured my spot on True Crime. Thanks a lot!”
“Whoa,” I said, holding my hands up in surrender. “I am a totally normal person who did not, in fact, run you over. Also, I heard them call you Darcy numerous times while you were lying on the pavement.”
She ignored me, still looking at Tuck. “And what kind of little dog? I am not one of those yippy little things.”
Tuck patted Darcy on the head, and she rolled her eyes. I ran my hands through my hair, feeling uncomfortable and out of place. I cleared my throat. “I’m Penn, and for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”
Lettie’s voice was soft as she spoke. “What brings you to Aveline, Penn?”
I hesitated. I felt like this question in this particular town was a trap, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to give my true reason for being there just yet. The way the entire population stood and interrogated me on the sidewalk made me think this place may have been more like an exclusive club rather than a regular town. I was going to play it safe until I figured this place out a little bit more and knew who, if anyone, I could trust.
And by playing it safe, I meant I was going to lie through my teeth.
“I am from Endell, and well, I was looking for somewhere a little quieter to settle down.”
They all eyed me skeptically before Darcy challenged me. “You’re from Endell? Endell is like four hours from here. And you just happened to stumble into Aveline?”
I pushed up my glasses, hoping they couldn’t hear the nerves in my voice. I wasn’t a great liar. I didn’t do it often, and quite frankly, Darcy scared me. “Well, I have a friend from the city who has been through here and thought it would be perfect.”
Darcy’s arms were crossed over her chest, and I watched the way she studied me. “Oh, a friend? Really? What’s his name?” She was persistent; I had to give her that.
I needed to figure out a way to get myself out of this bakery and hash out the details of this lie. I could already tell if I told her I wanted to build a hotel in this town and advertise Aveline as a “quiet tourist heaven,” Darcy might actually run me over with a car.
Lettie shoved Darcy’s arm. “Chill,” she said, then turned to smile at me. “Aveline is the best place to live. There is no better place on Earth. I’d swear to it.”
I nodded, but Darcy squinted. “I don’t believe you. No one from the city comes to Aveline to settle down...and quite frankly, you don’t look like you want a quiet place.”
I placed my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Oh, really? And what do I look like I want?”
Her eyebrows were thick and dark, and in the moments since we’d met, I’d realized they were expressive. They framed her dark-brown eyes perfectly, and I couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was. Her skin was light, contrasting her dark hair and eyes, and she looked effortless, like she just rolled out of bed and looked perfect.
“You look like you want to sit down and have tea while you discuss the stock market with a couple of men with really bushy mustaches.”
I arched an eyebrow, trying to hold back laughter. “That was oddly specific.”
She shrugged. “I’m right though, aren’t I?” she asked, as though she were proud of herself for guessing exactly who I was.
I shook my head. “Sorry, but not at all. I don’t even know anyone with a mustache.”
Darcy huffed. “Right, like I am going to believe you don’t know one person with a mustache. There are probably four people on my street alone with one. Bruce, Manuel, Paul—”
“You know what?” I cut her off. “You’re right. I think there is a guy down the street from me who rocks a pretty intense handlebar,” I replied, still finding the conversation amusing.
All she said back was, “I knew it,” with a sense of accomplishment in her tone.
Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and all but stuck her tongue out at me. I had only just met her, but I could already tell she was unlike anyone I had ever known. I wasn’t used to being harassed in this way by women. Hell, if I was honest, I wasn’t used to women not tripping over themselves to have a drink with me. But Darcy seemed like she’d rather pour said drink over my head than ever be caught dead enjoying one.
Something about that made me want to know more about her.
And that was the last thing I needed to do.