Chapter 5
5
Jade
T he rhythmic beeping of the register and the faint hum of the overhead store lights are normally enough to ground me. Most days, I can slip into autopilot as I check out customers and help them find what they’re looking for. Not today, though. After my encounter this morning, my thoughts are a mess, spinning in directions I don’t want them to go.
Declan.
He’s been in my head since the moment he walked out of here, his truck rumbling as he drove off and up the mountain. It’s frustrating how little it took for him to plant himself in my mind, just a simple gesture of kindness from a handsome stranger. I still think I could manage on my own, but I know that’s just my hyper independent side fighting for dominance. Living in this town has taught me that I need to learn to accept help when it’s offered, because the people here are always offering.
Declan is an unknown element, though. I don’t have any measure on him. He’s not the same shade of overly bright, overly eager helpful as Tawny. He’s not grandfatherly in the way Ron is. What he is though, is hot as hell, even by LA standards where everyone looks like they walked off a movie set.
There’s no ignoring his good looks, no matter how hard I try to push the thoughts away. The man is tall, broad-shouldered, and sharp-featured, with green eyes that seem to see right through me. Even though we’ve encountered each other before, today was the first time I actually took notice of him and really saw him. He possibly awakened something in me that I never had the mental space to even consider.
I lean against the counter, pretending to straighten the stack of receipts by the cash register while my mind drifts. Declan’s so different from anyone I’ve met since moving here. Most of the men in this town are loud and brash, filling every silence with chatter or laughter. They’re overly friendly to the point of sometimes appearing flirty, despite their wives or girlfriends always being in tow. Declan, on the other hand, seems content to let the quiet sit between words. He doesn’t fill space, he claims it, like it’s his right. He’s unobtrusive, but still quietly commanding attention.
This was never the plan. I’d hoped to just fade into obscurity here, to keep my head down and not get too involved with anyone. After all, I never know when I might have to pack up and run again. I hope I never do, but I can’t rely on that certainty. There are people from my past who are probably still looking for me, hoping to catch me off guard. There’s no mental space for me to have a crush.
That’s exactly what’s happening, though. In the handful of hours since we were introduced, I’ve developed a bona fide romantic liking to Declan. It’s so stupid and childish, but it’s undeniable. Just the idea of seeing him tomorrow morning sends a thrill through me, exciting me like a girl in kindergarten waiting for recess to see her crush.
I let out a quiet groan, forcing myself to focus on the register. This is ridiculous. I don’t know him. He’s just some guy who came in for supplies. He’s probably forgotten about me already, and here I am, acting like a lovesick teenager. I’m better than this. I have to be.
The bell above the door jingles, and I look up automatically. It’s a woman from across town, bundled in a heavy coat with her scarf pulled up over her nose. I nod politely to acknowledge her as she heads toward the back of the store, but my thoughts are already drifting again.
As I watch her go, I have a flicker of memory, remembering a brief encounter from a few months ago. Declan, though I didn’t know his name at the time, had come into the store then too, but I barely paid attention at the time. I wasn’t ready to notice anyone back then, especially someone so attractive. My walls were still too high, my focus too sharp on survival. But now, the memory surfaces with a clarity I didn’t expect.
He’d been quiet that day too, speaking only when necessary, his movements deliberate as he gathered what he needed. He’d given me a polite nod when I passed him in the aisle. But then he’d asked my opinion on a chainsaw, startling me.
I’d only been working at the store for a short time, and I didn’t have much of an opinion on any of our products. Usually, I would get Ron to chime in, but he was out running the bank deposit, and I was stuck.
I didn’t want to be rude, so I simply said, “My rule of thumb is to pick the cheapest product with the best features. No need to pay extra just because its name brand.”
He’d laughed at that, and I’d felt silly. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and hope he’d pick out his saw and check out quickly.
“That’s a good philosophy,” he responded then, putting me slightly at ease. “Maybe we put too much weight on names.”
I agreed with him, though it seemed like he was thinking of more than just the name brands of products. I didn’t understand it then, I still don’t honestly, but there was a sadness to his words, a heaviness.
He’d taken my advice, though, and bought a mid-range saw. He told me he liked that I didn’t try to upsell him, and made a joke that I must not work on commission. After that, he’d left, the encounter almost wholly unremarkable, apart from my brief embarrassment.
But maybe I’ve changed. Maybe the part of me that’s been locked up tight for so long is starting to thaw, just a little. It’s a terrifying thought I don’t know how to handle. I can’t risk letting anyone into my life and can’t risk letting anyone else get hurt for my decisions. It’s a lose-lose for everyone.
“Jade?” Ron’s voice pulls me back to the hum of the store, and I blink, realizing I’ve been standing there staring at the same spot on the counter for who knows how long.
“Yeah?” I say, glancing over at him.
“I’m heading out for the day,” he says, pulling on his coat. “You okay to close up?”
“Of course,” I reply, giving him a small smile. “Go on. I’ve got it covered.”
He nods, tipping his hat before heading out the door. In the last few weeks, he’s been trusting me with more responsibility, satisfied that he’s trained me well enough to manage on my own. The store feels even quieter without him, though, and I always wish he’d stay, if only so I’d have some company. The faint sound of the wind outside is the only thing breaking the silence, now that the early rush of customers has died down. I glance at the clock. Another hour until my shift ends.
When I finally lock up, the cold hits me like a slap to the face. The wind has picked up, and the snow is falling more earnestly than it did this morning. The storm isn’t supposed to hit full force until the day after tomorrow, but it’s clear it’s not going to wait long to make its presence known.
I make my way to the diner, my usual after-work routine. My car’s been in and out of the shop for several weeks, so Tawny’s graciously been taking me up the mountain. Times like this, I really miss living right above the store, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I can’t wait to get back to my little slice of paradise and start prepping for the storm.
The diner is almost empty when I walk in, the usual hum of voices replaced by the faint clatter of dishes and the low murmur of the radio. Tawny is behind the counter, wiping it down with a rag, her blonde ponytail swinging as she moves. She looks up as the door swings shut behind me, her face lighting up in a grin.
“Hey, stranger,” she calls. “The usual?”
“I don’t know, maybe I should look at the menu,” I tease, knowing there isn’t a single thing on the menu I haven’t tried at least once. I’ve basically got the thing memorized by now.
“So, a house salad with chicken?” she chides, calling out my usual order.
“Actually, a bowl of chili sounds nice,” I tell her sincerely. “I could use some comfort food.”
She raises an eyebrow, tossing the rag over her shoulder. “Spill,” she commands, knowing I don’t often ask for comfort food.
I hesitate, glancing around the empty diner. There’s no one within earshot, just a couple of regulars sitting in a booth near the window, their attention focused on their coffees. Still, I lower my voice.
“It’s so stupid.” I blush, struggling to even admit this to my closest friend. “I’ve just been thinking about that guy Declan all day.”
Tawny’s grin widens, and I instantly regret saying anything. “All day?” she teases. “He really must have made an impression on you.”
“It’s not like that,” I say quickly, though my cheeks flush deeper at the lie. “He was just, I don’t know. Different.”
“Different how?”
I pause, trying to find the right words. “There’s something really mysterious about him. He’s been through something, that much is clear.”
Tawny leans against the counter, her grin turning mischievous. “And by mysterious, you mean hot.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it,” she says with a laugh. “He is hot, though! Anyone with eyes can see that. Today was the most I’ve ever heard him talk. You’re right, he is pretty mysterious. Maybe you’re just the girl to peel back his layers.”
Her eyebrows wiggle suggestively and I roll my eyes, picking up a straw and throwing it at her. She deftly ducks away and turns to the kitchen, putting in my order.
With nothing much else to do, she sits down next to be at the counter, poking me for more information about my runaway thoughts.
“So, were you like imagining him naked all day, or what?”
“Tawny,” I hiss, looking back to the couple to make sure they haven’t overhead. “It’s not like that. It’s mostly anxiety imagining this perfect stranger helping me for no reason.”
She rolls her eyes now, always so put off by my aversion to any help.
“He may not be from here, but he’s been here long enough to pick up on the way of things. Though, I have to admit, I’m a little jealous that you’re the first person he’s deigned to offer help to.”
“That’s because I’m too helpless to function,” I complain, resting my head in my hands on the counter and feeling pathetic.
Tawny nudges me gently, her grin returning. “Come on. If the storm comes early, maybe you’ll get snowed in with him. And then the storm won’t be the only thing coming.” She winks lasciviously, her grin turning wicked.
I groan again, this time louder. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet, you love me,” she says with a laugh. “Want some pie? It’ll make you feel better.”
“Fine,” I say, shaking my head. “But only because you’re going to pay for it.”
“Deal,” she says, already grabbing a plate. “And while you eat, you can tell me all about your plans to seduce the mountain man.”
I laugh despite myself, the sound cutting through the weight in my chest. For the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe again.