Chapter 8 #2
She felt she was pushing the limits of his goodwill. Last night’s confrontation had been intense and unpleasant. She wanted to put it behind them, but even when they had nice moments of conversation, they hit speed bumps where they just clunked and quit moving forward.
They got the beverages and cups, then made their way to the library, where they began to set up the station.
Millie came out with the table and chairs, a pop-up tent and also some balloons, which Jessie thought was a nice gesture.
They were getting all the food set out when Danielle pulled up in her white SUV. Michael was with her.
She looked at Millie to see if she was upset by his presence, but she didn’t seem perturbed in the least.
Then she looked at Flynn. His face was as smooth and implacable as ever. But there was a level of intensity in those green eyes. Intensity that made her stomach tight.
He wasn’t happy with her; that much was obvious. He was here to play the game, and obviously Danielle’s presence ignited something competitive in him. However, last night, she had made a misstep with him. But what was the alternative?
Admit that she was attracted to him? Absolutely not. The very idea made her want to run and hide.
She needed to focus on the here and now.
Danielle was dressed all in black, and Jessie thought that was an interesting contrast, considering she was the outlaw.
Yeah. That was a pretty fun contrast, honestly.
But instead of looking at her opponent, she looked at her own setup.
Thought about the things she wanted to say.
Because if there was one thing she had learned in life, it was that focusing on other people didn’t help.
It only gave you a lean, hungry look that vultures recognized.
It made you look wilting and weak, as if you might die. That was when they started circling. It was why Jessie led with confidence. It was why she looked content with her own company at all times.
Flynn looked down at the table, then back up at her. “You really bake these?”
“I did.”
For some reason she felt she had just opened her chest up and showed him her heart. Squishy and tender. She hated that feeling.
But she had figured she might as well bake the things she was bringing, since she enjoyed doing it. But maybe she shouldn’t have. Maybe it had been a bad choice.
Maybe she should’ve just bought some cupcakes.
And then nobody could criticize her baking, and no one could criticize her. And Flynn couldn’t say it was weird or silly or girly that she liked to bake.
“Looks good,” he said.
And she realized that being exposed and wounded were perhaps not the two worst things that could’ve happened. Because his praise made warmth spread through her like melting butter. It made her heart trip over itself. Made her feel like she was floating.
“They are,” she said, because a comeback was always a great defense. Always.
“I trust you.”
“You should try one. Have a cinnamon roll and some coffee. That way people will know that they can just grab stuff.”
“You think that will make them grab baked goods?”
“Yeah. People always need someone to be modeling the behavior.”
“Is that so?”
“Well, I’m going to have a lemon bar,” Millie said, reaching out and taking one, and then pouring herself some coffee. “Austin is going to come down with Emma a little bit later.”
“Great. Give Jessie a chance to kiss a baby.”
Jessie wrinkled her nose. “I generally don’t kiss babies. I’m not … used to small humans.”
“Really?” He shrugged. “I like them. Especially when I can hand them back to their parents. Being an uncle has been a lot of fun.”
His observation made her feel twitchy. She didn’t want to think of him as being good with children. She liked him in his box. But unfortunately, she was seeing him out of it more and more lately.
“Storytime starts soon,” Millie said. “Which means that the crowd will pick up a little bit. And then there’s a book club that meets here in a couple of hours. Older ladies who are retired and like to talk about romance in the middle of the day. I always join them.”
“You read romance?” Jessie asked.
“I didn’t use to,” said Millie. “But … I started about a year and a half ago. One of my regular customers talked me into it. She thought I might learn a few things.”
Jessie considered her confession. Millie had gone on to hook up with Austin, who was a far better man than Michael could ever be. She looked across the space at Danielle. She couldn’t imagine Millie with the more diminutive man in slacks who was helping arrange Danielle’s balloons.
Millie and Austin might appear to be an unlikely couple, they might appear to be opposites, but they fit. Complemented each other.
Jessie knew that love was real; she just couldn’t claim to be an expert on what produced real, healthy love and also created a healthy family.
Her parents had always been obsessed with each other.
But they were the same kind of strange. And that meant they had raised their kids to be the exact same kind of strange.
She supposed most people were like that; they just weren’t completely unorthodox.
Danielle and her fiancé Michael Hall certainly had the same energy.
Correct and officious; likely they fancied themselves subtle, when they really weren’t.
They were clearly upset about this whole turn of events, and that delighted Jessie.
She supposed she and Flynn also looked like two sides of a coin. Which meant their relationship would make sense to everyone in town.
A few cars began to pull into the parking lot, and Danielle took her place at her table, while Jessie took her place at her own.
“Eat a cinnamon roll,” she said to Flynn.
“Jessie Jane, have you noticed that I don’t take orders well?”
“Well, you’re supposed to, because you’re supposed to be my boyfriend.”
“What leads you to believe that even as a boyfriend I would take orders?”
He was not wearing a flannel shirt. In fact, in spite of the relatively cold weather, he was wearing a tight black T-shirt that outlined his muscles, and a pair of blue jeans. He really did choose violence today.
“Probably the reason you aren’t actually anyone’s boyfriend,” she huffed.
“Probably.”
But he did put a cinnamon roll onto a paper plate and pour a cup of coffee.
Right as the first person was about to walk by, he took a bite of the cinnamon roll and made a noise that verged on obscene. She felt it, in her stomach, between her legs.
“Good,” he said.
The word skated down her spine, made her fingers feel loose and languid.
She looked over at him, and their eyes met.
She couldn’t breathe. “I’m glad you like it,” she said, knowing she sounded wooden and strange.
Knowing she sounded like someone who cared an awful lot that someone liked their cinnamon roll, and maybe even got turned on because his response to the cinnamon roll was hot, and she was only a girl.
But then she had to focus, because a woman was standing there holding a toddler, looking between Danielle and Jessie.
“Hi,” both Jessie and Danielle said at the same time.
“I’m running for mayor this year.” Jessie rushed to get that last part out before Danielle could say anything.
“You’re running?” the woman asked, stepping toward Jessie Jane’s table.
“Yes, I am,” said Jessie. “I truly believe that I can effect some good change in this town. If you don’t feel like your needs have been represented, consider the alternative. A more unorthodox choice.”
“Your family does the Wild West Show, right?”
“Yes. We do.”
“I’ve never been to it.”
“Come out sometime. Kids love it. There are lots of games. And we have food trucks and all kinds of fun things. You can get a sense of who my family is.”
“You’re the outlaws,” she said.
“That’s right,” said Flynn. “They are.”
“Oh. Flynn.”
Flynn looked momentarily confused. “Yes,” he said. “Flynn Wilder.”
“I know,” the woman said with a bit of reserve.
She gave Jessie Jane a warm smile as she began to leave the table.
“You can have coffee. And a cinnamon roll and a lemon bar,” Jessie offered.
“Oh. Thank you.”
She took a plate, and Jessie served her a cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee. “Good luck balancing everything,” she said.
The woman went into the library, and Jessie looked at Flynn. “What was that?”
“I don’t know—oh.”
“What?”
“I think I slept with her.”
“For God’s sake,” said Jessie. “I did not consider that.”
“You wanted the outlaw ticket.”
“She’s married.”
“She wasn’t. It was like five years ago, I think.”
“Oh, Flynn.” Jessie tried to project disgust and disappointment, but in truth, she felt a raging, twisting jealousy.
A feeling that she ignored often when she saw Flynn doing his thing at The Watering Hole.
Because the reality was, he was everything she pretended to be.
Not that she had consciously pretended to be the kind of person who engaged in casual hookups.
It was just that people looked at her and made assumptions.
Based on her parents, based on her manner.
And people had spread rumors, which had done a whole lot of work she had never done.
Even her brother thought it was true. Her reputation didn’t bother her.
She would have to think there was something wrong with hooking up in order for it to bother her, and anyway it made her seem more interesting than she was. It gave her a mystique.
It covered her vulnerability. The vulnerability that she for some reason felt keenly right now with Flynn standing there eating her cinnamon roll, being Flynn.
“Well, we can’t exactly claim to be running as the paragons of Rustler Mountain society.”
“That’s true. We are the dregs,” she said.
He huffed a laugh and took another bite. “This really is good.”