Chapter 4
MALCOM WONDERED WHY HE’D GONE and said he’d been on a blind date. While it was true, it was kind of embarrassing to admit. He was thirty-two years old, and surely by now, he could manage his own dating life. So what if it had been lacking for a while? Although that was probably why his buddy Jay had set him up. The date had been with Jay and his girlfriend Kathleen, and Kathleen’s best friend Leesa. Apparently Leesa didn’t get the memo about not crushing on her best friend’s man because the woman couldn’t take her eyes off Jay all night.
Should Malcom say something? Had he imagined everything? Whatever was actually going on, he had been annoyed at the interruption of frantic texts from Penny, until he realized it would get him out of the nearly three-hour date.
It might be after eleven p.m. now, but he was far from tired. Besides, Ian was a cool guy—about the only person who’d been friendly at the gym. But Malcom wasn’t fooling himself. The only reason he agreed to accept a drink and then a bowl of chicken tortilla soup was because he was intrigued by Lori. Not that he was thinking of asking her out—she might have a boyfriend—but because he could tell there was a lot going on behind those blue eyes of hers. For some reason, she’d hardly spoken a word. And it made him curious.
In his line of work, the women he was around were outspoken and shared their opinions readily. Lori seemed the opposite. Did she own that shop, or did she just work there? Why was she wearing cat earrings again? These ones were small black cats perched on tiny brooms. Was she the proverbial cat woman? Or a Halloween enthusiast? She wore all black again—a black sweatshirt and leggings.
“This is really good,” Malcom said, because he felt like everyone in the kitchen was watching him eat.
Lori sat at the other end of the island. Brandy and Ian were leaning against each other, arms around one another, looking cozy. Maybe Lori didn’t have a boyfriend—otherwise wouldn’t he be here? Hanging out?
“How have you liked Everly Falls?” Ian asked. “I mean, after the protest on your first excavation day?”
Malcom wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It’s been quiet for the most part. I mean, the protestors are still camping out—which is a bit strange. Maybe they’re professional protestors and go from town to town?”
Ian laughed, and Malcom caught a smile on Lori’s face. For some reason, that made him pleased.
“That would be truly wild,” Brandy said. “Except I know the names of each and every one. At least my mom gave up after the first day.”
Malcom felt like he’d swallowed a rock. “Oh, I’m sorry—will your mom be mad you’re talking to me?”
Brandy grinned and shrugged. “No one has to know.”
Malcom glanced over at Lori. “Was that the woman who called me a devil in your shop?’
Brandy gasped. “She did ?”
Lori’s smile appeared. She had those straight teeth that had to be either from braces or perfect genetics. “She did. I think Brandy’s right. No one has to know about you being here.”
Malcom chuckled. “All right. Fair enough. Trying to keep family relations happy. I get it.” He looked back to Ian. “Does one of you own this place?”
“No, we’re just renting it for the weekend,” Ian said. “A bunch of us are here—the rest have already gone to bed.”
“Yeah, my sister and her husband are here,” Brandy added. “Also, Julie and her husband Dave. Plus our high school friend Stephenie and her boyfriend. I guess he went to high school with us too—although it was only for a short time . . .”
Brandy continued to rattle on about Cal Conner and his speckled past with his parents—was that something the guy wanted to be public? And as interesting and entertaining as Brandy might be, Malcom kind of wanted to just talk to Lori. She was definitely looking at him plenty—not that he was reading anything into it. In all the people Brandy had listed, it seemed there wasn’t anyone paired up with Lori.
When Brandy ran out of her rundown on the others staying in the house, Malcom said, “Oh, so you were all high school friends? Grew up in Everly Falls together?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “It’s kind of amazing we’re all still here and we’re all still best friends.”
“That is amazing,” he said. “I haven’t kept in touch with any of my high school friends. I wouldn’t even go to a reunion if they had one.”
“Bad high school experience?” Lori asked.
Malcom hesitated, mostly because Lori was the one who asked the question. He’d finished his soup, so he rose and crossed to the sink to wash out the bowl. “I was a transfer, and everyone hated me from the beginning.”
“What? Why?” Brandy asked.
Malcom turned from the sink and folded his arms. “I moved in with my dad and stepbrother after my mom remarried and moved to Costa Rica. Bronson’s parents had been divorced for a while, and his dad was still in the picture, so I was definitely the odd man out most of the time. I focused on sports most of the time. Bronson and I are the same age, and we were competitive, to say the least. When I became the starter on the basketball team, playing over him, he was upset. Understandably. But when football started, I was picked as starting receiver, and my brother didn’t talk to me for a month.”
“You played both sports?” Lori asked.
Malcom met her blue gaze. “Small town—we played every sport.”
The edges of her mouth quirked. “Oh, so you know how small towns are steeped in tradition?”
“I do.” He shrugged. “Bronson forgave me when we won the regional title, then state title.”
“In football?” Ian asked.
“Both football and basketball.”
“Nice.” Ian fist-bumped him. “Did you play in college?”
“I did, and so did Bronson. Basketball for a division two. I think that’s what put us on good terms again. I mean, we own a company together now.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” Ian said. “Do you and your brother live around here?”
Malcom grimaced. “Uh, no. My brother and his wife are about an hour north. I live . . . wherever the job is.”
“Like you rent a place in each town?” Ian asked.
“Not exactly,” he hedged. “I live in the trailer on the job lot. Doubles as an office too.”
“You live in the trailer ?” Brandy asked.
“The one across the street from my shop?” Lori added.
So it was her shop; he’d been wondering about that.
“Wow, that’s impressive,” Ian said. “Nothing gets by you at the job site, I’m guessing.”
Malcom cracked a smile at this. “Not much.”
But both Brandy and Lori were staring at him like he’d just confessed he was born on the moon.
“What are you, like a workaholic?” Brandy asked, her voice filled with disbelief.
“That’s one way to look at it.” Malcom felt a bit put on the spot. He was fine with the get-to-know-you questions, but now he felt called out.
“So . . .” Ian drawled. “When you go on a date, there’s no ‘hey, let’s go back to my place and hang out.’”
Brandy elbowed him. “Hey.”
“Ow,” he said, but kissed her temple.
“It’s fine,” Malcom said with a laugh, although it was sort of a bitter one. “I’ve been told that a lot—by ladies mostly—that I’m a workaholic.” He shrugged and finished the last of his water. “I honestly don’t mind living on site, and I suppose that makes me one. And to answer the dating question, it’s just easier not to date. You know—avoid the awkward end-of-the-evening stuff.”
Ian smirked. Brandy elbowed him again. “Well, you’d get along perfectly with Lori, then,” he said. “She doesn’t date either.”
“Ian, I’m going to staple your mouth shut.” Brandy looked at Lori. “I’m sorry, hon. I’m taking him upstairs to find a place to lock him up.” And with that she tugged him with her.
“Sorry, Lori,” Ian said, sounding contrite. “I’m totally kidding.” He looked at Malcom. “You should come up for our barbecue tomorrow afternoon, Malcom. The more the merrier.” He gave a significant look in Lori’s direction as his voice trailed off.
“We’ll see,” Malcom said, surprised he’d been invited in the first place.
Ian and Brandy disappeared out of the kitchen, and Malcom straightened from the counter and looked over at Lori. She didn’t look embarrassed exactly, but there seemed to be more color in her cheeks.
“How is it that some men can revert to a ten-year-old boy at a moment’s notice?” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “No offense to your gender.”
Malcom raised both his hands. “None taken. I guess I walked right into that one. Sorry you got dragged into the mud too.”
Lori wrapped her fingers around the end of her ponytail. “I might have cared once, or been offended, but he’s right. So what’s the point of contradicting him?”
This was interesting. “You really don’t date?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t currently date. It’s not like I’m a nun, or anything. I just kept hitting dead ends, so about a year ago, I stopped swiping on those apps. I forbade my friends to set me up. I stopped going to those singles’ meetups.”
“Sounds painful.”
Lori winced. “You have no idea.”
They were basically alone downstairs, and all seemed quiet. “I’m up for a good story.” Now that he had her talking, he wanted to hear more from her—about anything.
Lori hesitated. “It’s late, and I’m sure you want to head home. Or to your trailer, whatever you call it.”
“Trailer is fine.” He couldn’t help but smile. “And I’m a night owl. Also, I love stories.”
Lori shifted in her seat and leaned forward on her elbows. Her lips curved into a sweet smile. “I’ll tell you one story, then.”
“Perfect.” He moved around the counter and sat one stool away from her. Not too close, but not far either.
“I only remember this because it was right after I opened my shop,” she said. “About six months ago—”
“It’s your shop, then? You own it?”
“Yeah, it’s my shop.” She paused, but when he didn’t say anything more, she continued. “We’d had an unexpectedly busy day, so I only had a few minutes to get ready. I decided to stay in my regular clothes—pink pants, white top, and Easter egg earrings. You know, because of the holiday.”
He smiled.
“But I had to touch up my makeup, you know, so I wouldn’t scare any potential dates off.”
“Dates?”
“The event was one of those speed-dating things.”
He nodded, even though he’d never been to one, and didn’t think he could be paid to attend. Also, he was pretty sure Lori looked fine with no makeup—was she even wearing any now? Because she looked perfectly fine.
“I arrived to find that they had a bunch of tables set up.” Lori gave a half smile. “The women stayed put, and the men moved from table to table. Everyone had five minutes to chat, then a timer would go off, and the men would shuffle to the next woman at the next table.” She drew in a breath. “Each one felt like a painful job interview—but with rapid-fire personal questions.”
Malcom was totally invested. “Questions like what’s your favorite color?”
Lori laughed softly. “Those would have been welcome. No, the questions were about my age, how many kids did I want, where did I want to live when I married, what my parents were like, what income level did I have . . .”
“Wow, to the point, I guess,” he mused. “I mean those are things that will eventually come out, but maybe not in a fire hose of questions.”
“Exactly.” Lori sighed. “Despite all of that, I gave my number to three of the men. They all called, but nothing went beyond a first date. In fact, nothing has gone beyond a first date for years.” She shrugged and traced a finger along the marble lines on the island. “When I even think about going on a date now, I just shut down. I have no interest, and I’d rather do anything else—even go to the dentist.”
Malcom laughed. “That’s kind of depressing, but I totally get it.”
Lori tilted her head, her mouth turning up. “So you’re not going to shame me?”
“Not at all.” He glanced toward the stairs that Brandy and Ian had taken. “I can’t say the same for any of your friends, but relationships aren’t for everyone. I’m perfectly happy and functional and marginally successful in life.”
She was fully smiling now. “You are. And I don’t think either of us should change for other people. We can just be ourselves. Single and happy.”
“Right. Single and happy.” Malcom folded his arms. “So what about your family? Do you have any siblings?”
“No siblings.” She gave him a quick rundown of her parents selling their hardware store, moving to Florida, and leaving her to fix up their house to sell.
Malcom whistled. “Wow, that’s a lot. You’re fixing the place up by yourself?”
At her nod, he asked, “When do you sleep?”
She smirked. “Between midnight and six?”
“So we’re probably past your bedtime now?”
Lori laughed. “Yeah.” Then she stifled a yawn.
He stood from the island and retrieved his tool bag. “Thanks for telling me your story. I should get going, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Anytime,” Lori said, her cheeks taking on a faint pink. “But maybe not at one in the morning.”
“Is it that late already?” Malcom pulled out his phone. He had several texts from Penny and a couple from Jay. Nothing from his date.
Lori had moved to the front door and opened it.
He headed toward her. “It was great talking to you. Thanks for not making me feel like the odd man out.”
“I’m sure you’ll date when you’re ready or you find that perfect woman.” Lori leaned against the door, her eyes bright. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“It’s a deal,” he said. “And the same goes for you. Although, I must say, those one-date men were missing out.”
“Oh really? Do you think they should have asked me out on a second date?” Lori teased.
“Definitely. Their loss.”
Her cheeks had flushed again, and Malcom was strangely happy knowing that maybe she took his compliment to heart. Because it was only the truth.
“Well, thanks, and hope you drive safe.”
“I’ll be fine.” He stepped out onto the porch in the crisp night air. The stars above seemed to spread for miles.
“And what should I tell Ian about tomorrow’s barbecue?” Lori asked.
He was surprised she brought it up, but also pleased. It would have been awkward showing up. Ian hadn’t even told him a time. But now that Lori was asking . . . it felt more like an invitation he couldn’t turn down. “What time is the barbeque?”
“Around six.” She tilted her head. “Do you have any free time? I mean, you are the boss.”
“I am the boss . . . which means I can make my own schedule.”
Her smile appeared. He really liked that feature of hers.
“You should come,” she said in a breezy tone. “All the guys are great, even when they act like ten-year-olds. And if you’re going to be around Everly Falls for a few months, you might want more options than hanging out in your trailer.”
“And you think a barbecue is a good place to start?” Malcom knew he was borderline flirting now, but Lori didn’t seem to mind.
“I think it’s an excellent place to start.” She tucked a bit of flyaway hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “But I must warn you. Once the others find out you’re single, they’ll probably try to set you up with someone.”
“Like you?” Malcom said, toeing the line.
Lori laughed. “No, we can nip that in the bud right from the start. We still have plenty of high school friends who fit the single status.”
“Ah. Well, then, I think I’m going to stick to your strategy.” Malcom smiled. “No blind dates for me. If I meet someone, it has to be organically.”
“Good plan,” Lori said, moving a step away from him. “Have a good night and see you at the barbecue—if you come.”
Malcom nodded, about to turn away. Then he paused. “I wanted to ask you about the cat earrings. Do you have a bunch of cats or something who are like your children?”
Lori’s brows shot up. “Are you calling me a cat lady?”
“If the shoe fits . . .”
Thankfully, she smiled, and he was glad he hadn’t put his foot in his mouth—too much.
“I do love cats,” she said, idly twisting one of the cat earrings. “I don’t currently have one, if you must know, but it’s all part of the ruse. Keeps away the guys looking for a hookup. They see my holiday earrings and assume I’m a bit odd—which you just verified—and they walk the other way as fast as possible.”
“You know that a lot of men love cats too.”
Lori puffed out a breath. “In those cases, I tell them I’m already in a relationship. They just don’t have to know that it’s with myself.”
“Ouch.” Malcom brought a hand to his chest. “I’m glad you don’t tell those poor men that you’d rather be alone than with them.”
“Alone is a relative term,” she said. “Am I really alone? Not exactly. I mean, I’m alone in my bed at night, but that’s for sleeping anyway. Otherwise, I’m always with someone. I wouldn’t consider myself lonely, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” Malcom had never had such a varied and interesting conversation in all his life. He was really glad Brandy and Ian had ditched them. He really should go though, or he’d find himself talking to her for another hour. “See you tomorrow, Lori. Maybe.”
She laughed, and as he headed down the stairs, he heard the door click softly behind him.