8. Ian
EIGHT
IAN
I should have just had my groceries delivered. My quick trip into town is taking twice as long as I thought it would. This late in the day, I’m tired of wearing my prosthesis and just want to go home and take it off. But this store isn’t laid out like I expect, and I have to hunt for every blessed item on my list.
I shuffle my cart forward another foot, rolling my eyes at myself. Am I actually complaining about grocery store layouts? I just need to yell at some kids to get off my lawn and my transformation into a grumpy old man will be complete.
I frown at the rows of cereal boxes. I haven’t been much of anything else to my new neighbors. Questioning Tess’s motives when she brought me a gift and talking about rattlesnakes for some unknown reason. That was the best I could do in the face of her generosity. Grind out warnings about snakes and bears, oh my.
Not sure it’s entirely my fault. She throws me off at every turn. Her kindness has to be for show—nobody’s that cheerful twenty-four-seven. And does she have to smell so sweet? It’s like she’s been rolled in fruit and brown sugar, and I hate myself for wanting a taste.
“You’re nothing like I remember you.”
Join the club.
I shake my head as though I can clear it of Tess. That task has proved impossible since she moved in, but I keep up the good fight. I pull out my phone, take a pic of the empty grocery store aisle, and send it to Pierce.
Ian: Do I get my gold star?
I toss a box of cereal into my cart and pick up the pace. I’ve got enough basics to get me through the week. It’s not an impressive menu, but it’ll do. Next week: start deliveries again.
My phone buzzes with a reply.
Pierce: Who’s the woman?
I stop in the middle of the aisle and double check that I sent the right photo. Not that there’s a woman anywhere in my recent camera roll, but I still check.
Ian: There’s no woman in this picture
Pierce: Only a woman would get you out of your funk and wandering town
Pierce: You sure don’t take my advice
Pierce: So? Who is she?
A sound of disgust groans out of me. Should have left well enough alone. I push the cart more forcefully than I need to, leaning on the handle and furiously typing with my free thumb.
Ian: There’s no?—
My cart slams into another with a resounding clang, and I drop my phone. I start to swear, but the sound dies out when I realize who’s piloting the cart I crashed into. Tess .
Is she the only woman in this town? Are we in one of my daydreams? Admittedly, this would be one of the more pathetic ones, but I would accept that explanation. How is she here?
And why does she have to look so effortlessly stunning? She’s in a T-shirt and shorts, nothing special, but the sight of her makes my mouth go dry anyway. I feel stupidly out of place confronted with her. Possibly because I look like a slob who gave up on himself years ago, and she looks like a golden goddess. Might be that.
“I’m so sorry,” Tess says, even though I’m the one who ran into her. “Is your phone okay?”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” I bend down to grab my phone off the cement floor. It looks to be all in one piece, but I swipe my fingers over the screen to double check. I peer at the camera lenses, but I’m not sure I’d be able to tell at a glance if they were broken. “I shouldn’t have been texting and driving.”
The soft sound of her laughter eases some of the tension from my shoulders.
“You’re dangerous behind the wheel of a shopping cart.”
“You should see me on a motorcycle.” I wince at my own dark humor. Too soon.
“I’ll be sure to watch out.”
I shift my weight on my feet, my mind blank. Are we flirting, or…? Am I this far gone I can’t remember how to do it? It was reflexive back in the day. Would she even want me to flirt with her?
I’ve been trying to forget she called me both hot and charming twenty-four hours ago. I was a lot of things back then that I’m sure not now. Her laughter when I suggested we’d once dated still echoes in my ears. It’d seemed like the right conclusion—she’s exactly my type, and I sure hadn’t been shy when I came to town last. Most of my dates back then had been innocent enough, just flirting and having a good time, but she seemed to think I was some kind of Casanova.
Most likely, she doesn’t care at all. I sure haven’t given her reason to. She hasn’t pushed past me yet, though, so I should at least say something. In the spirit of being neighborly…
“You’re safe with?—”
“Ian?” A tiny, distant voice calls my name.
I look around, then stare down at the phone in my hand. The screen is lit up with Pierce’s name, the time clock steadily tracking seconds. I squeeze my eyes shut. I must have hit Call when I picked it up off the floor.
I’m really on a roll making things more difficult for myself. I lift the phone to my ear.
“Pierce?” As though I’d be lucky enough for it to be anyone else.
His laughter tells me he heard our entire awkward exchange. “Is that the woman?”
My gaze locks on Tess, who’s still watching me two cart lengths away with a tentative smile. Not sure if it means “This guy’s okay” or “This guy’s crazy.”
Maybe it just means “What is the minimum acceptable time I have to be in this guy’s presence before I can make my escape?”
“I didn’t mean to call you,” I say to Pierce. I sure wouldn’t have told him about Tess willingly.
“I’m glad you did. You need some coaching in the flirtation department.”
That’s great. Just wonderful. Now he’ll tell Steven, and I’ll never hear the end of this. Probably serves me right for all the ways I made jokes at my brothers’ expense before they found their wives. Actually, I was worse after they found them. But this thing between Tess and me…it’s not the same.
“Goodbye, Pierce.”
“Take another picture?—”
I make absolutely certain the call is ended and the screen is locked before I stuff the phone in my back pocket.
“Sorry,” I grumble to Tess. “My oldest brother. Guess I hit the wrong button.”
“I’ve done that, too. Accidentally called my sister on my way to August’s daycare. She got an earful of us singing Taylor Swift at the top of our lungs.”
Not sure why Tess and August bopping along to pop music is something I’d like to see. “Probably wasn’t that bad.”
She gives me a sly look that makes my stomach twist.
“We murdered all the high notes. It wasn’t pretty.”
Still bet it was.
“Where is the kid anyway?” It’s a little strange to see her without him. Half expect him to appear at the end of the aisle to ask me if he can play with my dog.
“He’s at my mom’s watching a movie. It’s easier to get my grocery shopping done when I don’t have August ‘helping’ me pick out all his favorite things.”
“I left Dutch at home for the same reason.”
She fights a smile, like she’s not quite sure if this is a joke to laugh at or an eccentricity she should indulge. Just proves my theory I don’t know what I’m doing with women anymore. Sure don’t know what I’m doing with her .
Her gaze drops to my cart, and her eyebrows lift.
“I’m not finished shopping yet.” It’s my best defense for the haphazard mix of items in there.
“I didn’t say anything.” Her gaze snaps back up to mine.
“You want to, though.”
I wait, and I’m rewarded when she cracks another smile.
“I mean…it is a lot of meat.”
“Red and white.”
She exhales a laugh. “There’s the variety. Very healthy.”
I know we’re only talking about groceries, but I don’t mind Tess teasing me. At all.
“I have vegetables on my list.”
“I’m sure.” She nods, but her mouth takes a skeptical slant as if she knows I don’t have a list. I’m not the list guy. I’m the figure-it-out-as-I-go guy. Except, apparently, when it comes to her.
“I’m on my way over there, but I don’t know where anything is.” Nobody tells you that once you’re in your thirties, you start to care a lot about how grocery stores are laid out. Why is the produce nowhere near the meat department in this store? Make it make sense.
Her expression shifts to something more sympathetic. “Is this your first time in the store?”
Yeah. Shouldn’t have said that. There’s more than one grocery store in town, but her question isn’t entirely a casual one. Like she knows just how much of an effort it took for me to come down here in the first place.
So much gentleness layers her voice, I’m tempted to admit everything. Share with her how I’ve been avoiding town, avoiding people because without my career, I don’t know who I am anymore. Beg her to tell me where on earth the fresh fruit is located in this place. But this softness is too close to pity. That’s the last thing I want from her. I shake off this…whatever she’s doing to me. No point in looking at it too closely. Just need it gone.
“I should get back to it.” I brace my hands on my cart, reminding myself this urge to stand right here with her until the store closes talking is foolish and one-sided.
“Oh. Sure.” Her smile slips away, and she maneuvers her cart to the side.
A cold sensation creeps over me. It’s not the first time I’ve felt that way when I’ve shut down on people these last two years…but it’s the first time I want to fix it.
Pretty sure anything I tried would only make it worse. Mostly for me. Doesn’t stop the urge, though.
Just before she passes me, she pauses. “It’s good to see you, Ian.”
This angel must really be a devil in disguise. Does she have any idea how my name on her lips tangles my stomach into a hitch knot? She can’t possibly know how that one soft word unravels my impulse to sneak out of this grocery store and make sure we never cross paths again.
Just as she starts to move away, I manage to find my voice. “Thank you again for the cupcakes.”
It comes out a mere step up from a growl and it’s nothing I haven’t already said, but I still say the words.
She stops again, directly in front of me. Looking at me with those big, blue eyes. A trace of a smile touches her mouth, and suddenly, I need to experience the whole, vibrant thing.
“They were the best I’ve ever had.”
More like mouthwatering, but I’m not fool enough to use that descriptor in front of her. I’ve already got jerk covered, I don’t need to add creep to the list. Still, I’d savored those cupcakes and mourned when I finished the last crumbs from the box.
She relaxes into a wide grin that hits me square in the gut. Maybe higher. All I know is, she’s knocked my feet out from under me with her open smile. Even as I’m falling, bracing myself for impact, I want more.