CHAPTER 14
Aiden
I’ve got to get out of this town.
Now it’s Christmas elves turned into Easter bunnies. And Christmas ornaments decorated as eggs. And very large, bright-white crosses. Everywhere.
And the damn townsfolk are always…around. With their giant, adorable dogs. And their stunning eyes and revealing tank top pajamas hugging perfect, perky, hourglass curves I couldn’t see in her work clothes. Now I can’t unsee them. And I can’t stop wanting the best bloody coffee I’ve ever had and…
Harper?
What’s she doing out so late in the morning? Probably trying to avoid me at her shop. But today I just also happen to be running late. Can’t sleep out here in this quiet. This quiet with the wandering dogs who could be out anywhere at anytime, needing a firm hand to look after them.
I slow my car, “Harper?”
She pauses, looks at the car, me in the driver’s seat, and the other empty seats. She doesn’t have to say it out loud. Where’s Renaldo?
“He left,” I answer, lifting my foot off the break to roll forward with her. “I have a security detail at the site now instead. Why are you walking this bicycle down the street?”
She looks up at the sky as if asking God for strength. Just to speak to me. I swear I’ve never met a woman like her.
Most women are all too eager to talk to me, flirt with me, make eye contact…make all kinds of contact. I’m rich, I stay fit, I know how to impress. I’m a little irritable, too direct maybe, but I’ve never had a woman complain about that once we get behind closed doors.
This woman is supremely irritating.
“Harper?”
“Too muddy here to ride,” is all she says.
“Ride for fun?”
She stops walking turns to me and gives me the most obvious you are a raging dumbass look I’ve ever seen. I almost laugh. Okay, then, not for fun.
“What’s wrong with your vehicle?” I ask. She sighs and shrugs. I say, “Come then, leave that and I’ll give you a ride.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised when she shakes her head and picks up her pace.
“Harper,” I scold her. This is ridiculous.
“No, thanks!” She says before she hops on the bike as we reach the corner. The roads are cleared of mud here but still, this is silly.
“You know you can’t out run me, right?” I say, keeping up with her. I catch a glimpse of fire in her for a second. As if she’s thinking, I can try.
Unreal.
“Fine. We can chat along the way,” I call through the passenger window. She flinches.
Finally, a way for me to needle at her the way she’s needled into me. Why was I lying awake last night pondering her robe? The fabric was some tropical print much like her bandannas. And her slippers were giant palm trees.
This from a girl who lives in a winter town?
Summer here is usually mild and short. Not a palm tree to be found.
Maybe she summers nearby somewhere on the coast, the Hamptons?
Does she take Stuart? And what did she mean he’s not her dog?
Why does she keep a dog she doesn’t want?
Why does she run a bakery if she hates talking to people?
And why do I care?
Annoying.
“Tell me about your Easter Market Specials,” I say, eager to annoy her right back. She doesn’t respond. “I can help,” I press her.
“No thanks,” she pants. Her short legs are pedaling as fast as they can. On a leisure bike that probably has two gears. Again, I want to laugh.
“Listen, you are undercharging for all of your seasonal specials. And you’re giving too many different samples out at each event,” I say quickly.
Her face transforms and her pace slows, like she’s listening.
“They’re too large, as well. One tiny set of samples, only one sample per person.
Quit letting the mayor’s little wanker son come back four times for samples. ”
Her head snaps over to me. Her face gives her away again. How did you know about that?
I don’t answer her that I watched her like a creep during a good part of the day during the mud…fest? Bog something? The mud race day.
“You could even tell your regulars that samples are for tourists. No one from Juniper Falls should be sampling your goods,” I say, my voice going gruff and weird. After the words come out my hands tighten on the steering wheel.
What’s going on with me?
Maybe I am working out too hard in the evenings.
I clear my throat, “The aroma is enough to draw people to your booth. Where you should charge above usual cost for transport out of the storefront, booth set up and fees, additional to go cups and napkins and so on.”
She stops pedaling.
I brake my rental car.
“Why are you helping me?” She asks. Once again, I feel like doing a damn victory dance at the fact that I got more than a yes or no out of this woman.
Good question.
Why exactly am I helping her?
Annoyed all over again I snipe, “To give myself a more worthy opponent, you all don’t have a chance in hell without my help. It’s right bloody boring.”
At that, her face shudders closed. There was maybe a flash of anger, hurt even, but then she shut it off. It’s amazing to watch. It’s like she knows I’m desperate for her reactions—God knows why?—and so she’s gone completely blank.
Infuriating.
I don’t follow after her as she races away toward her shop.
And, for the first time in days, I don’t stop in for coffee.
_____
Ruff Grrrrrruff
Scratch
Scratch scratch scratch
“Stuart, sit!” I yell from my rental’s living room to the front door. Damn dog is going to get me charged with damage fees by Mr. Newman. Keen businessman, that one. The dog barks back.
I check my watch.
9:30.
Damn. I bet Harper’s already in bed.
“Come,” I say, opening the door. The dog barks and bounds to me. I smile. Can’t be helped. This dog seems to truly love me. Want me. Choose me over all the other options available.
What a novel concept in my life.
I lead him to the back yard and find a stick. He fetches it once. Then looks at me, asking what else I’ve got planned.
“Fine, then we’ll train. Stuart, Sit.” He does. I cross the lawn, tell him to stay, then release him with, “Okay.” He must’ve had some training at some point. Not from Harper, but someone. He seems to enjoy it. I wear him out as best I can in my small yard. When he’s panting, I pull out my phone.
Aiden: Garage code?
The text ellipses pop up, then stop. Then start. I’m shocked when she actually sends four digits. Doesn’t protest, doesn’t come down. Good. I don’t need to see her anyway.
I put the dog back in her garage and assess the broken window. I’m not necessarily handy but this isn’t hard. Just an old hook style latch that needs to be bent back and tightened. I cross over to a work bench to find pliers.
I find sketches instead.
Of the shop.
Architectural drawings, logo ideas, even some recipes. Plans to renovate. New display case order forms. I file carefully through the papers. They’re covered in dust, but they don’t look very old. I don’t find any dates.
I sigh.
It’s always the same.
A sweet, big dreamer with one too may Pinterest boards, opens a brick and mortar shop they can’t run.
It’s not enough to have a cutesy name and delicious food.
You have to understand business. You have to have a strategy beyond posting to Instagram.
They never do. Then I’m the bad guy when I arrive and turn what’s basically a financial sink hole into something that sustains the local economy.
I look around the garage. More hokey things. Holiday decorations, of course. Old snow gear. Multiple boxes labeled Keepsakes. Things normal families have, I suppose.
I feel almost itchy all over.
Big eyed, bleeding heart types drive me mad.
So what am I doing in the garage of a person who is exactly that?
Helping the dog.
The truth is she probably got him in a moment of whimsy as well. Won’t it be dreamy to have a Great Dane and name him something tiny?
“Ugh,” I groan.
I set the papers down and look through drawers until I find the pliers.
I fix the latch and tell Stuart to stay.
Then I flee back to my own place.
_____
I told myself I wasn’t going to bother coming in here today.
But Ben insisted we meet here now that he’s back in town for a quick visit.
And the cheery fool is basically family.
I’ve no siblings and only a few remaining friends from school.
He’s one of maybe three or four people in the world for whom I will do something I don’t want to do.
So, in I go.
“There you are, you grumpy sod!” My old friend says, beaming at me in that loud, jolly, bloody likable way of his. He’s the same as always, a bit taller than me but not as built, light brown hair somehow both shaggy and styled. Looking tanned from his travels. The golden boy everyone loves.
My frown deepens when I spot his wife behind him. She’s dark-skinned, with long black hair in waves, memorable gray eyes Ben waxes on about. She has a huge smile. Not that she’s currently smiling. Her scowl matches mine actually.
She does not care for me.
Probably thinks I’m the evil conqueror come to destroy her hometown. She’s not far off. Still, I didn’t plan to have to exchange forced pleasantries with her this morning.
“Hello,” I reply, bracing myself for a bro hug with the back slapping. Ben’s a big fan of them.
“Right,” he says after embracing and releasing me, “What do you want to…oh.”
Harper slides over coffees for all three of us.
She doesn’t look in my direction but she peeks out from her California state flag bandanna to smile at Ben.
Of course. I study her, then the store. Some of the usuals are here, but a few I don’t recognize too.
Hopefully drawn in from nearby towns with the warm weather and news of the upcoming Easter events.
I mean, not hopefully. I don’t care.
“Thanks Harp,” Janie says. Then she finds a spot by the window and gets settled, waiting for her husband and me to join.
“So, how’s it?” Ben asks.
We go into the usual catch up for a while. Mostly about their travels and Clark Industries, Ben’s family empire. I finally convinced Ben to invest in some property, so he updates me on that. Then there’s talk of a vow renewal and on and on. I start to zone out about the domestic bliss.
“You’ll have to plan a bachelor party, yeah?”
“Sure,” I say. Janie seems surprised, since Ben has a twin brother, Byron. I’m not at all surprised.
It’s always me who gets things done. It’s been that way since we were boys.
We needed an answer, I spoke up and asked the question.
We wanted to sneak out, I paid off the younger prefects, who would rat us out.
I humbled myself and invited the Head Boy to join us so he didn’t set us up for a suspension.
The boys wanted to go on a big trip after graduation, I had it planned, paid for, sorted.
I don’t mind it, taking care of things. I got very good at getting what I needed for myself at such a young age, it was easy to add my bunk mates’—and eventually Ben’s and Byron’s—needs in with mine.
Ben gives me some general ideas of when and where.
But as we chat, the door dings a couple times. Each time, I look over.
And yes, there she is. She’s smiling, eyes up. I listen closely and sure enough, she even asks the customer a question. It’s the cheery small town baker.
The Harper I sure as hell never get to interact with.
“And the site here, is it going well?” Ben asks.
I nod slowly, “Good. We had that bit of trouble at the start but since I’ve been here with security, smooth sailing.”
“Uh huh, and at what point did you make a bet the whole town would default between now and summer?” Janie asks, crossing her arms.
“Wifey,” Ben scolds her.
“What? It’s true, and let me tell you what.
You underestimate her,” Janie spits. I glance again at the her in question.
My eyes just keep traveling left in her direction like I’ve no control over them.
Janie goes on, “Christmas in July is going to be next level. These holidays leading up are good too, but, seriously. Just wait.”
“Christmas in July?” I ask. “It’s not enough they coat this whole town in that garb starting in September?”
“You’ve never heard the expression?” Janie asks me.
Ben teases, “Some American you are. Where’s your sense of obnoxious capitalism?”
“You’ll see. If there’s someone the entire town will rally behind, it’s Harper,” Janie says before taking a bite of some sugary fritter type thing that looks delicious.
I had a bran muffin back at the house because I’m going to have to order new suits soon if I don’t get my cravings under control while I’m based here.
“Why’s that?” I ask Janie, painfully curious.
Janie doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes narrow and she asks, “Why are you so curious?”
“I’m not,” I say.
“Ohhhhh,” Ben says, as if having some great revelation.
Then Janie leans back and laughs. Hard. Loud enough and long enough that the few people in the shop turn to look. She calms herself.
“Never in a million years, Aiden,” Janie tells me, suddenly serious.
“Never what?” I ask, confused.
“Whatever you’re thinking. She’s not available and even if she was, she doesn’t date seriously. She doesn’t hook up casually with randoms staying in town for two seconds, either, and she would never ever consider the town bully. You are O for three.”
“Date?” I choke on the word and start to cough.
“She is very pretty,” Ben says like he’s trying to defend me. I need no defense! I do not want to date the baker! I am not the town anything!
“Hell yes, she is. And he can crush on her from afar like a flamingo. Or a bear. Don’t poke the bear, Aiden. I’m telling you.”
“Ha! Poke! I see what you did there, love,” Ben chuckles before kissing the side of her head.
“You two are looney. I’d just as soon date a porcupine,” I say. “More approachable and would probably provide better conversation. She’s practically mute.”
“Benedict you better get me away from this guy post freaking haste,” Janie stands, suddenly offended.
“What? I was agreeing with you. Preposterous idea.”
“Not cool to punch down, Mate,” Ben winces and stands as well. “I’ll meet you for a pint later, yeah?”
“What d’you mean, punch down?” I ask but they’re hustling out of the shop. Punch down…isn’t that some comedy term? Ben’s saying I was making jokes at the expense of someone weaker than me?
I frown at that.
Harper doesn’t seem to have a weak bone in her body. Quiet sure as hell does not mean weak. I’ve never had someone so dead-set on shutting me out.
And what the actual hell is his wife going on about?
I don’t want to date Harper.
I don’t even want to see Harper.
I get up to leave.
But damn my stupid eyeballs for finding her blushing face one last time as I barge out the door.