• Two •
“You keep that up, and you might end up a heathen like me.”
Capri
Nine Years Ago
Sitting on the park bench with half a dozen lemon crinkle cookies alone was just pathetic. But it was either stay here for the next two hours or go home and answer a million questions from my mom. Why was I home so early? Wasn’t I going to the movies with Esther? Which had been a lie to begin with. Well, half of it at least. I was supposed to go to the movies, but not with Esther.
Nathan Mills had asked me out. He’d come to church last weekend with his aunt. When he found me outside afterward, we talked. He was charming and funny. Then, he asked for my number. I did not have my own cell phone, and I wasn’t sure he should call the house phone. So, I gave him Esther’s cell number. Being the awesome friend she was, she came over when he texted and set up a time for us to talk on the phone. He asked me out to a movie for tonight.
When I mentioned him to my mother, she told me to steer clear of him. His aunt was trying her best to help, but he had been causing his parents problems. Curious as to what he was doing that was so bad, I asked. Mom said that they’d caught him smoking and drinking. They’d also found filthy songs on his phone. He was apparently going to turn into a criminal because of these things. At least according to my mother.
I, however, wasn’t so harsh. He sounded like every other teenager I knew, except for me. Because I had no breathing room to do any of those things.
Knowing she’d never let me date him, Esther helped me with the plan to tell my parents I was meeting her at the bakery and then taking her car to the movies.
Nathan was going to meet me at the bakery at six.
By the time seven rolled around, Bess had been closed for almost an hour and was locking up to leave. She handed me the bag with my favorite cookies in it and told me she hoped my ride showed up soon.
Unable to sit outside and continue to look pathetic, I took my cookies and walked down to the park to find a fairly hidden bench in case my mother were to drive by. I’d kept expecting Esther to show up and explain. Maybe Nathan had called her to relay a message to me. But after an hour with no word, it was safe to say I had been stood up.
It was all for nothing. The work I had put into planning to even be here. Not to mention the two hours I had spent rolling my hair and putting on a little makeup.
Opening the bag, I took out a cookie and frowned at it. Normally, these were my go-to treat when I was happy or sad. But at the moment, they just reminded me of the hour I’d stood outside the bakery, waiting on Nathan, who never showed. I mean, it wasn’t like I knew him that well. Perhaps he had changed his mind about me and not known how to tell me.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until a body sat down next to me, which was startling and caused me to drop my cookie. However, when my gaze locked on Thatcher Shephard, my stomach got all fluttery. Which was bad. The first time I’d met him, I hadn’t known who he was, so the butterflies had been understandable. I was sure all females thought that when they looked at him.
Now that I was aware who he was—because I’d done some asking around and digging of my own—I should be scared. Not giddy.
“Damn,” he said, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him, then crossing his ankles. “Shame to waste a perfectly good cookie. Hope you got more.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. What did I say to him? I didn’t want to be rude, but, well, unlike Nathan, Thatcher was actually a bad person. A very sexy, rich, powerful, bad person. Who was sitting on a bench in the park, talking to me.
Gathering myself, I licked my lips and tried to think of something that wasn’t stupid to say. Why I cared about what he thought of me, I didn’t know—scratch that. I knew. I was sheltered, not stupid or blind. He was ridiculously hot.
“Uh, you startled me,” I blurted.
He lifted his eyebrows just a touch as his eyes met mine. “You’re nervous,” he said. His dark gaze seemed to be studying my face. Then, a smirk touched his lips. “You know who I am, don’t you, little doll?”
Little doll? Was that an insult, or was it … not?
I nodded.
He let out a deep chuckle that caused goose bumps to cover my arms.
“Did you ask, or did someone tell you?”
If I told him I’d investigated him myself because I could not get him out of my head, he might think I was a stalker. I was gonna have to lie. I had done a lot of that today.
“I, uh, well, you’re well known, and I, uh … people saw you in the parking lot, and, uh—”
“You asked around.” Although he wasn’t smiling, there was a small tug on the corner of his lips, like he wanted to.
I might as well be honest. I nodded.
He took the bag of cookies from me and opened it to peer inside. I sat there silently as he reached into the bag and pulled one out, then inspected it.
Bess didn’t make them every day. In fact, the days she made them, she’d call me to let me know. I was one of the few people who chose them over her famous peanut butter cup cookies or chocolate chip with caramel drizzle. My mom loved her strawberry shortcake cookies best.
“Lemon crinkle,” I said.
His eyes shifted to me. “They any good?”
I nodded. “They’re my favorite.”
He took a bite, and I got a funny stir in my chest as I watched his neck muscles move while he chewed. He had a lot of muscles. I’d never thought about a guy’s neck being sexy, but this one fit that description. When it stopped moving, my eyes snapped back up to his face, and I realized he’d caught me ogling his neck. Great.
He didn’t say anything, but took out another cookie and handed it to me. “You’d better eat this one before I finish off the bag.”
I took it.
“You get cookies and sit out here alone often?” he asked as he got himself another one.
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I get cookies kinda often, but I just take them home. I had other plans tonight, but they fell through. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”
When he took another bite, I looked over toward the street and started eating the one he had given me. I was afraid if I looked in his direction, I would start lusting over his neck again like a creeper.
“Relax, Capri.”
His voice made my breath catch, and I had to physically think about how to inhale oxygen properly. Turning my gaze back to him, I swallowed the cookie I had been chewing.
“I’m relaxed,” I lied.
He grinned. “Ah, little doll, there you go, sinning again. You keep that up, and you might end up a heathen like me.”
Between his grin, calling me little doll again, and teasing me, I was unable not to smile. No one had ever made me feel like he did. Which was very bad, but it still felt like … like I imagined flying would feel. Scary. Exciting. Breathtaking.
“You make me nervous,” I admitted.
I was afraid that might offend him. I realized I shouldn’t have said it.
“Good,” he replied.
I was watching him chew again and tried to find anything else to look at. But what had he meant by good? Was he warning me? Telling me to keep my distance? But he was here beside me. I hadn’t sought him out.
“You like riding horses,” he said then, and my eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes, but how did you know that?”
I’d been riding since I was nine years old. One of the members of the church had stables with quarter horses. She gave lessons and had offered them to me for free. I had fallen in love with horses and riding the very first day.
“You ever been on a thoroughbred?” he asked me without answering my question.
I shook my head. “I’ve only ridden quarter horses.”
He finished off his third cookie, and then I watched in fascination as his tongue flicked over his lower lip. Oh my.
“Quarter horses are fast. You race them?”
I blinked and jerked my gaze back up to his. There was an amused gleam in their dark depths. I had to stop staring at him like a weirdo. He had to be used to it though.
“Um, yes. Barrell racing,” I told him.
“You any good?”
I bit my bottom lip and tried not to look smug. “I ranked fourth in first division this season. In Georgia, I mean.”
There was a slight curve to his lips. “Impressive.”
I shrugged. His family owned champion thoroughbreds. That was all I had really known of the Shephards until I went trying to find out who Thatcher was. I had never seen their stables or even driven by them. Most folks didn’t drive back down the road that led by their house.
“Thanks.”
He put the bag with the last cookie in my lap. “It’ll be dark soon. Better walk on back home while there is still light out.”
I stared up at him as he stood.
“See you around, little doll,” he said, then walked off, leaving me there to watch him go.
Two days later, a box of lemon crinkle cookies was left on our front porch.