Chapter 4
“Morning, P. Glad to see you’re in one piece,” Andy says, the next morning, heading to the fridge.
I’m at the kitchen table enjoying a bowl of oatmeal Jo made before leaving to take Kody to school.
Andy’s freshly showered, his hair slicked back against his head, wearing a button-down plaid shirt with a red bandana wrapped around his neck, worn jeans, and a turquoise and silver belt buckle. He looks ready to wrangle something.
“Thanks Andy,” I say, passing him the box of cereal on the counter. “I’m counting my lucky stars. You’re giving off strong Clint Eastwood vibes this morning,”
“Well you’re nailing it today,“ I say, my lips curling into a smile.
He salutes me with his spoon and then takes a seat at the kitchen table.
“So, what do you have on your docket today?” He shovels a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
“Oh, you know. Book slinging. Existential pondering. World domination.”
“The usual.”
“What about you?” I ask, grabbing the cereal box from him so I can scoop out a handful.
“Oh, you know. Might take a walk down to the pasture and make a few daisy chains. Maybe braid a horse tail or two.”
I chuckle at the image. “The usual indeed.”
“Actually, I’m meeting the new wrangler, Shayne, in about fifteen minutes at the barn. Care to join us? Jo mentioned you two are buddies already.” Andy says, suggestively waggling his eyebrows.
“Um, no, definitely not. Shayne probably thinks I’m the town lunatic.”
“You kind of are,” Andy replies, his mouth curving into a wicked grin. I flick a nugget of cereal at him, but he dodges. Gordy’s nails scrabble against the wood floor as he chases after my failed missile.
“What do you think of, Shayne?” Andy asks.
A flash of Shayne’s dark eyes and perfectly stubbled jawline fills my mind. My skin flushes with the memory of how he felt against my back last night. Impossibly warm.
Impossibly…hard. He’s a mouthwatering specimen, no doubt about it. And I’ve made a complete ass of myself in front of him TWICE.
“I think after John he’s the last person I want to run into right now.”
“Yeah, he’s kind of intense right? I can’t get a good read on him. Kind of surprising given how highly recommended the guy is. Maybe he’s just not a good fit here.”
A large part of me rejoices. If Jo and Andy send Shayne packing, I’ll never have to worry about running into him in town where I’ll be forced to relive the embarrassment of our interactions. I’ll never have to see the ‘oh shit, here comes crazy’ look flash across his stupidly beautiful face.
But a smaller, more treacherous part of me hopes he’ll stick around long enough for me to redeem myself. And give me a chance to find out if, like I suspect, his mouth was made to fit perfectly over mine.
“Maybe give the guy a couple more days to settle in. He comes off as a very…capable guy.”
Andy considers me for a moment, then nods and leans back over his bowl to wolf down the rest of his cereal.
I leave him to enjoy his breakfast in peace and head to the guest room to grab my things. I call out goodbye to Andy as I shut the front door behind me.
Banter with Andy didn’t used to be so easy.
Our relationship has come a long way over the last fifteen years.
I spent most of our time in high school actively hating him.
He and Jo were constantly on and off for a variety of reasons, namely because they were immature teenagers attempting an adult-sized relationship.
When they finally broke up ‘for good’ after high school, I was happy for her.
Jo’s dreams had always been bigger than Silvercreek.
I was finally feeling settled here, a feeling I’d been chasing for most of my life, so leaving was the last thing on my mind.
I’d signed up for business courses at the junior college in Meadow Green and was perfectly happy to stick it out in the valley.
Whenever Jo came into town for visits, Andy was never mentioned. She’d moved on and started dating a guy named Todd, who sounded amazing. He was studying literature, and they were moving into an apartment together. Then Jo’s dad, Eli, died, and everything changed.
One night Jo called me in the middle of the night sobbing, which was a pretty common occurrence in the weeks following Eli’s death. But that night she was crying for a whole new reason.
“I didn’t tell you this when it started because I didn’t think it was going anywhere but…I’ve been seeing Andy.”
“Oh Jo, no, not again! He’s such a—” I was ready to launch into my list of all the ways Andy sucked when she stopped me.
“I’m pregnant.”
All the words stewing in my brain disappeared. I had no idea how best to support my friend in this moment, so I stayed quiet and ready to listen to whatever she needed to say.
“Andy wants to get married. I don’t know what I want—but, Paige, my dad died two months ago. I’m all alone now.”
“You’re not alone. You have me. I’ll always be here for you.”
“No, I know that. And I love you so much for how supportive you’ve been.
But you have John and your own life to build.
I can’t run this ranch by myself. I definitely can’t raise a kid by myself.
Andy’s been working the rodeo circuit for a while now and has done really well.
He says he wants to help out in any way he can. He wants us to be a family.”
I could tell that she’d already made up her mind.
She wasn’t looking for advice. She was breaking the news.
This whole conversation was about convincing me—and deep down herself—that this was the right call.
I couldn’t help but think that not too many years ago, this would have been Jo’s worst nightmare.
“Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be, but I was too scared to consider it before.”
“You know I’ll support you, whatever you decide. But Jo…remember how miserable you were with Andy before? He drove you nuts.”
“I know. And I know you’ll think I really am crazy for saying this, but he’s different now. I honestly think we can make it work.”
And so far, they have. Amazingly so. Jo was right.
Andy does seem like a different person. He no longer tries to control everything she does.
He absolutely adores Kody. He wholly committed himself to helping Jo run the ranch and even took Jo’s last name after they got married, knowing that keeping that bit of her father’s legacy would mean something to her.
Their relationship now is so much different than the minefield it was in high school.
It’s a stable and supportive partnership, and it’s exactly what I believed my relationship with John would blossom into, but some things don’t button up so nicely.
By the time I pull into my driveway, my back has seized up. All I want to do is crawl back under the covers. But I can’t, so I shower again and dress my poor, sore body in my softest, most worn jeans and an old flannel. Comfort should outweigh style on a day like today.
Opening the store with a back as stiff as a board unlocks a new level of personal torment.
I groan and curse my way through the morning routine.
On one hand, it’s great that I don’t have any other staff around to witness my sad state.
On the other—good lord, I’d appreciate a second set of hands right now.
Taking out the trash brought tears to my eyes.
There is no way I can restock any shelves lower than waist-level unless I want to spend the rest of the day trapped on the floor.
Jillian, a sweet woman who was one of my grandmother’s closest friends, works part-time in the store.
She’s retired with grandkids of her own, but she comes in three days a week and relieves me for lunch.
She runs the monthly Storybook Hour in the children’s loft, too, but she’s not looking for more responsibility.
I’m able to hire a few local high schoolers during our peak summer season, but I would commit a small crime to be able to afford another full-time employee.
My grand plan, if all goes well with the book signing, is to start hosting larger events at Pages, which will hopefully allow me to hire a full-timer.
So much depends on the Webber signing going well—and there won’t even be a signing unless I stop daydreaming and call the flipping publisher.
I pick up the receiver and am just about to dial when the door chime sounds.
“Welcome to Pages!” I call out automatically. I clack down the receiver with a sigh of relief. Another momentary reprieve. I plaster a smile on my face and glance up just in time to lock eyes with the last person I ever expected to walk in the door today. Julia Roberts would have surprised me less.
John.
My ex.
Who just married someone else.
Is now standing in my store.
Seconds tick by while neither of us says anything. It’s been months since I’ve seen him, let alone talked to him. I hate it but seeing him automatically flushes my body with a rush of serotonin, like I’ve just found a missing shoe I’ve spent months looking for.
He looks good. Trim. Oddly tanned. Of course he would—his wedding was two days ago.
He’s staring at me, too, and I can tell by the look in his eye that he’s not thinking the same thing I am.
I know I look a step above showing up for work in my pajamas.
I don’t think I even put on mascara. I fell off a horse yesterday, dammit! He doesn’t know that, though.
“I fell off a horse yesterday,” I say loudly, effectively shattering the silence. Smooth, Paige. Real smooth.
John looks taken aback for a millisecond, but recovers quickly and pastes a look of expertly manufactured concern on his politician face.
“Oh no, Paige. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he says, his voice an oil slick of false sympathy. He reaches across the counter and lightly pats my arm. The motion is oddly wooden and makes both of us uncomfortable.
“No, no, I’m fine. How are you?—How was the wedding?” I ask, pulling my arm away and moving it below the countertop.