2. Vince
2
VINCE
I drop my gym bag on Daryl’s paperwork and fall into the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “I’m in love.”
He nods. “Sounds about right.” He doesn’t look up from whatever he’s reading on his tablet and continues to slowly swivel in his chair, leaning back farther than seems wise.
“I’m serious, Daz.”
He lifts his gaze for a moment and gives me the slightest nod. “I believe you,” he says and goes back to his reading.
I reach over, snatch his tablet away, and glance at the screen before throwing him a questionable look. “You’re reading porn?”
“ Erotic romance ,” he corrects me, grabbing it back. “There’s a story.”
“Sure there is.” I give him a disapproving look. “It’s mid-morning.”
“And you’d prefer me to reschedule my sexual gratification to a time you find more suitable?” He swipes to turn the page and remains enthralled.
“You’re at work,” I remind him.
He gives a dismissive half-shrug. “The boss said I could.”
“You’re self-employed.”
“Exactly. How else would I get away with wearing sweats to the office?” He slides his hand down his pants, and I avert my gaze. The joke has to end soon.
It doesn’t.
The second he utters an indulgent moan, I kick his desk. “For the love of fuck, Daryl. Will you please put it down?”
He looks up from his reading. “My book or my dick?”
I turn my back to him. “ Both .” I venture a glance, to see if he’s done fooling around, but if anything, he’s sped up.
He shakes his head and pumps away. “Can’t stop. I’m at a good part, and I waited three chapters to get here. Don’t ruin it.”
“Fine. I’m leaving.” I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.
“Town or just my office?” He stops stroking and looks up from his screen. “I thought you were here till the end of the week.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I was thinking about staying for longer, but you’re about to drive me away for good. I’ll be outside. Come find me when you’re done.”
I close the door behind me, shudder, and set off for the organic bakery down the street that should be open now. It’s tiny, and they have a small selection of specialties they bake, but they make a great cheesy, garlicky bread thing that I love, and I can eat about six of those tasty sumbitches before Jason’s voice dominates my thoughts and demands I go find some fruit and vegetables .
The bell over the door jingles, and the woman with earthy, bohemian vibes and a faded bandana over her hair dusts her floury hands on her apron, as she turns to greet me.
She snorts and reaches for a brown paper bag, whipping it open before picking up her tongs. She snaps them at me like a crocodile’s mouth and does little to hide her amusement when she taps them knowingly at the basket of cheese-and-garlic twists. “How many this time?”
“Four, please.” My cheeks warm a little. “For a start.”
“For a start.” She nods, while I dig into my pocket for some cash.
“We may need to make an extra batch a day, to cater for you and my usual customers,” she says once she’s packaged my order and looks at the few remaining bread twists in her basket. “How long are you in town for?”
“Only till the end of the week. Visiting a friend.” I add the last part because small towns thrive on gossip, and if I’m taking the lion’s share of baked goods, the town folk will be pleased to know the situation is temporary. “I’ll stop depriving others of these delicious bad boys soon. I promise.”
She waves a don’t-be-silly hand at me. “Well, I appreciate the revenue your appetite brings, so come back and see your friend as often as you like, and we’ll make sure there’s plenty for you to eat. ”
I can’t help my smile. “Thank you. You know, I was actually thinking about coming back soon. I’m liking it here more and more with each passing hour.”
She hands me my change and the bag of bread twists. “It’s a safe and friendly place for kids, if you’re thinking of bringing your family with you next time. If they eat like you do, I’ll be set for my retirement.”
My kids? Nothing like an innocent assumption, to sink my good mood.
“Sadly, I haven’t been blessed with children yet,” I inform her. “And I’m fast approaching my best before date, so it may not be wise to count any retirement-plan chickens hatching in my nest.” I raise my bagged goodies and head for the door. “Thanks for the snack, Ma’am.”
The fresh air hits me, and I hold my face to the sun, letting it lift my spirits. I won’t give up hope. Especially when I have an adventurous and sexy young mama I’d like to explore some opportunities with.
Daryl finds me on a nearby park bench, surrounded by agitated ducks.
“Feed one, and they’ll all come running.” he says, carefully picking his way through their flapping wings and fresh leavings to sit next to me. “You’re a farm boy. You should know this.”
I give him a flat stare. “Have you ever known me to share my food?” Much to the chagrin of the ducks, I shake the last few cheesy crumbs from my bread bag into my palm, take them to my mouth, and savor the final taste of my treat as I scrunch the brown paper into a ball. “I didn’t give them shit. That’s why they’re pissed at me. Garlic is bad for ducks. ”
“Unless you’re cooking them.” Daryl watches the flappers a moment. “You want duck for dinner? We could grab a couple of these guys. Take them home for a plucking good time?”
I shrug, and he looks me over. “Okay. You’ve got your pre-heartbreak face on, like you can see another doomed relationship on the horizon. Who have you fallen for this time?”
I lower my head. “A spunky little mama with curves to die for, who’s gripped me by the balls like no other woman ever. If I can’t get her bedded, wedded, and thoroughly bred before I die, my spirit will roam the earth unsatisfied, for all eternity.”
Daryl looks at me as if he’s bored. “It’s good you’re not too dramatic about it.”
I hunch forward with a sigh, and he leans back and stretches his arms out along the back of the bench. “Every time,” he mutters, shaking his head.
I frown. “This is different. She’s different. She’s young and pretty and good. You know? She’s definitely a spicy kitten who reeks of sexual potential and needs a good stroking, but she’s sweet, too. Like, I can feel how wholesome she is.”
Daryl sits straighter and studies my face, his brows drawing downward. “Did you go to the library today?”
“No. Why?”
He shakes his head. “No reason.” He tugs at his ear and looks into the distance.
“Should I?”
He looks back at me, a confused expression on his face. “Should you what? ”
“Go to the library.”
He glares at me. “Definitely not. Steer clear of the place.”
“Why?”
For a moment, he doesn’t answer. “Because I don’t want you to fall in love with the librarian.”
“Why not?”
What if I already did? What if Fred runs the local library?
I’ll visit every day, and he can’t stop me.
I fold my arms over my chest, and Daryl’s warning gaze gets twice as murderous before he jabs his fingers at my sternum. “She’s an innocent girl from a respectable family, and small towns gossip,” he growls. “It’d ruin her reputation if people knew someone your size was railing her. There’s a balance to be kept around here, if everyone’s going to live peacefully together with a certain level of privacy, and I don’t need you throwing your giant cock in the ring and causing strife. Just stay away from her.”
Taken aback by his unusually protective stance, I raise my palms and give him my word. “If you’re this moody about it, I’ll leave the librarian alone.” An uneasy feeling niggles at me, and I swallow hard, trying to ignore the pace of my racing heart. “What’s her name?” I ask, hoping I haven’t already broken the promise.
“ Cadence Malone ,” he says quietly. Almost reverently.
Relief washes through me, whooshing out in a rush of breath, before I nod. “Consider me off her dance card.”
Daryl watches me closely. “You thought it was her.”
“I hoped it wasn’t, considering how in love with her you sound.”
He coughs and looks around with wild eyes before lowering his voice to scold me. “You shouldn’t say shit like that too loud. It starts rumors, and rumors hurt people. She’s a good girl, and I like living here, Vince. I don’t need a mob of pitchfork-toting conservatives driving my filthy ass out of town for fiddling with the headmaster’s daughter. Everyone around here went through his school, and he made such an impression, they live in fear of him long after graduation. He’s basically the fucking law in these parts. He might as well be a fucking mob boss, with the power he has over the cops, the town paper, and every fucking committee there is, so just mind your own fucking beeswax and don’t talk crap about his baby girl. Don’t even speak her name.”
I ease back on the bench. “Fine.” I haven’t seen my friend this worked up about anyone before, ever. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“I don’t know how you fall in love so often,” he mutters. “It’s a fucking awful business.”
“It can be.” I tilt my head, to read his face. “I was almost hoping love wouldn’t swallow me again, when it has chewed me up and spat me out so many times already, but this time feels different. It’s more , somehow, but I can’t find the right way to explain it. And it was instant.”
I hold up one hand and shake my head when he opens his mouth to speak. “I know you’re going to say I always fall fast, and I’d agree, but this was instant , Daz. As in, I saw her, and I fell . Our eyes met across the room, and it hit me like a truck. I thought I knew what love was before, but this girl has brought a whole new level of intensity. If there’s an exact match for me in this world, I may have found her. I think… I think she’s mine .”
He runs his tongue over his teeth. “I see,” he says, as if he really does understand and is finally taking me as seriously as I want him to. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Frederica .”
Daryl raises his eyebrows. “ Fred? The baby-making hippy girl?”
I frown. “The what, now?”