3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
R ose
I'm elbow-deep in salt shakers when my best friend, co-worker and boss, Lila, slides into our favorite corner booth at Salty's Taproom. We have to prep for the dinner crowd, and we've got a system going. I fill the salt shakers and she folds silverware into the napkins while the buzz of afternoon chatter of day-drinking patrons swirls around us.
"Girl, you would not believe the morning I had," I grumble, spilling a little too much salt on the table. I swipe it up, shaking my head at my clumsiness.
"Tell me everything. I’m ready for some good ol’ Sea Shanty Cove gossip.” She leans in eagerly.
"First, Honeybun has found a new way to get in trouble. Every darn morning it's the same routine." I can't help but laugh, despite my irritation. "He’s dead set on a daily swim in my neighbor's pool."
"Ah, the guy who built that huge house next to yours?" Lila asks, her smile widening as if she can already sense the story brewing. “Spill it, Rose. Is he hot?” Lila's voice is sly, her eyebrows dancing playfully as she leans closer across the table.
"Hot?" I echo, feeling my cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "He's like walking, talking, zaddy territory, with a dash of hot professor in glasses added to the mix." I fiddle with a shaker, trying to play it cool but failing. "But he's got this scowl plastered on his face, and I swear he's allergic to smiling."
"Ooh, a challenge!" Lila claps her hands gleefully. "Using HoneyBun to help you get laid? My, aren't we sneaky!"
"Get laid? No, no, no," I protest, feeling the heat in my cheeks spread to the tips of my ears. "It’s not like that at all. It's just…"
"Come on, Rose. You're telling me you haven't thought about playing naughty school girl with the professor even a little?" A mischievous glint sparkles in Lila's eyes and she holds up one hand, her thumb and finger indicating a “little” and I can't help but laugh.
"Maybe a tiny bit..." The words tumble out before I can snatch them back, and her grin widens.
"See? There's nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting," she teases, then gives me a wink. “Especially if he’s a hot, older guy.”
"But I'm not sure he even likes me," I admit, twirling a strand of my blonde hair around my finger, something I do when I’m anxious. “And I hate it when people don’t like me. Everyone likes me.” I muse, pondering the mystery that’s Braxton Barrows. "How does one win someone like that over? In a neighborly way, of course."
“Rose, you're impossible.” She sighs. “You've got that sunshine personality everyone adores. Just be yourself, and if that doesn't melt his icy attitude, I don't know what will.”
"Right, because 'being myself' has worked wonders so far," I quip, though a part of me knows she's probably onto something. I mean, how can someone resist a daily dose of Honeybun shenanigans and my well-intentioned, cheery, over sharing, way too talkative self?
"Trust me," Lila says with confidence. "That man is going to be putty in your hands before you know it."
"You know," she adds, her voice lowering conspiratorially across the booth, "Braxton could be more than just your neighbor. He could be your naughty neighbor with benefits."
"Wha—no!" I stammer, nearly dropping a shaker. "I just...want to be on good terms, that's all."
"Uh-huh," she drawls, clearly not buying it. "Maybe bake him some cookies and casseroles as part of being a friendly neighbor? That’s a Sea Shanty Cove thing to do. Throw in a pie or two? Men love a woman who can bake. It's like, primal or something."
“Maybe…,” I’m genuinely pondering the idea. “I could try some of my grandma’s recipes or maybe a lemon meringue pie? That's sunny, right? Like me!”
"Definitely," she laughs. "Nothing screams 'eat this and love me me up' like whipped egg whites and lemon zest. Or maybe “eat this and eat me!” Her eyebrows waggle.
I roll my eyes at her, groaning at her humor. “But he's so different from me. He's got a whole academic daddy vibe going. We have nothing in common to talk about. Winning him over will be impossible.”
"Hey," Lila says, reaching across the table to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't sell yourself short. You've got that whole adorable, hippie-chic aura, and everyone loves you for it. Plus, you're a great listener who happens to have a smokin’ hot bod,” she laughs. “That counts for a lot."
"Maybe," I murmur, unconvinced. "I just don't want to start baking pies and casseroles and end up looking like some desperate little girl looking for attention."
"Rose Flowers, you are many things, but desperate isn't one of them," Lila interrupts firmly. "You're genuine, and that's rare. Just let that shine through, and if he's got a brain in his head, he'll see how amazing you are."
"Okay," I say, feeling motivated by her belief in me. "Operation Neighborly Love' is underway."
Brace yourself, Braxton, 'cause here comes the sunshine.