Chapter 9 #2
There was this awful flutter in my chest I couldn’t ignore as I headed up to the counter and ordered another coffee. To go. Then headed down the street toward the grocery store.
I had…a lot of feelings.
Confusing ones.
The strongest of which was a need to see Jason for myself.
Leanne was out sweeping the stoop in front of the bookshop. She waved at me, her eyes dancing. She had a back brace on, but moved like she didn’t feel it at all. The Pride flag in the display window behind her caught my eye as I waved back and continued down the street.
Jason was not there when I arrived.
Which was—once again—super annoying.
I needed his phone number.
I was starting to think he wasn’t giving it to me on purpose.
“He’s at book club,” Madison informed me. “They’re having a luncheon and invited him to come by to grab their donations last minute.”
I sighed. “Where?”
“Head down the street to the B&B, you’ll find him there,” Madison said, sucking on her straw in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible. There was a spark in her eyes I didn’t understand. It’d been there last time too, but I’d been too distracted to see it.
Like it made her happy to see me chasing Jason down.
Weird.
“Thanks,” I grunted before heading out the doors with the cooling coffee in my grip.
The walk to the B&B was nice, even if I was miffed that things had gone awry. A cool breeze rustled through the branches, sending leaves dancing across the sidewalk, crunching beneath my yellow work boots with each step.
Businesses on Main Street morphed into picturesque homes dotted between. Picket fences. Giant trees. A tire swing in one yard that reminded me of the one at the park I used to take Mavis to. Trees reminded me of my farm. And my farm reminded me of work.
I ran through the task list in my head as I walked.
We’d finished harvesting this week, and both Patrick and Jordan were manning the farm on their own. Which meant I had more free time than ever to not only do this—my errands—but also head back to the house and see what I could get done in the interim.
It was a blessing.
All hands would be on deck at the Pie Festival after Thanksgiving, but for now, I was freer than I’d been in months.
I dodged a few cracks as I moved, the old wives’ tale about stepping on them breaking a mother’s back coming to mind like it had ever since I was a kid.
The B&B was a cute building. I’d never really noticed it before.
Only a few blocks away from the grocery store, it sat in a cluster of trees.
Along the front, it had a rickety white fence.
Tall and old and as friendly looking as the rest of the town, with an unkempt yard, and a somewhat freshly painted haunted house within it.
The decorations themselves looked ancient, but the paint job couldn’t have been more than a few years old.
Halloween had been weeks ago, and yet no one had taken anything down.
I climbed the steps warily, unsure what to expect.
More skeletons, maybe?
Or worse—chatty women.
I’d met one of the ladies that frequented the book club the other night at Rudy’s. She’d been nice enough. Even said she’d come to my booth at the Pie Festival—which I genuinely hoped had not been an empty promise.
Though…thinking about that brought its own layer of stress. Namely the fact I wasn’t very good at talking to people and I worried I’d say the wrong thing, or give off the wrong vibe—or…
Christ.
This was why I’d been sticking to my property since I moved here.
Screw Jason for forcing me to socialize and meet the townies he obviously loved.
It was like he was doing this on purpose.
Forcing me out of my shell.
When I pushed through the front door, the sounds and smells of a party assaulted my senses.
Just like I’d worried would be the case, at least a dozen older women were all congregated in the lobby.
Tables covered in desserts—all clearly homemade based on the variety of Tupperware and glassware they were housed in.
A giant glass pitcher was full of what looked and smelled like chilled apple cider.
The last time I’d seen a pitcher like that it’d been sitting on a log near a campfire at Roderick’s wedding campout.
Despite the fact I’d just had cheesecake, my stomach gurgled.
God, I was always hungry.
TV dinners were just…not enough.
Neither was cheesecake apparently.
The entire room quieted for a moment when the door slid shut with a thunk.
Dozens of eyes regarded me, all wearing mirrored welcoming smiles.
All friendly. I felt about two inches tall all of a sudden.
Desperately, my eyes skimmed the crowd, searching for Jason and his oddly calming presence. I came up short.
Only one person was familiar, the lady from the other night. She wasted no time crossing the distance between us, her gaggle of friends following right behind. They smelled like a mixture of fruit and old-lady perfume. I fought the urge to sneeze.
“It’s the apple boy!” the woman I recognized said when she arrived at my side. “Remember? I told you about him. The one with the biceps. Jason’s boy.”
My cheeks flushed.
Jason’s boy?
What did they mean by that?
“Oh! He is just as handsome as you said he was,” another woman said, elbowing the first with a giggle. She pressed even closer, one of her hands hovering above my arm like she wanted to touch.
“Isn’t he?” They tittered together for a moment.
The gaggle of women had soon surrounded me.
A sea of freshly curled hair, hairspray, and genuine kindness.
Quite a few asked to poke my biceps. I agreed, because it felt rude not to, even though I wasn’t really sure why they’d wanna do that in the first place.
I was worried my skin would start to boil, my cheeks were so hot.
“Tell me exactly where you’re going to be selling your goods—” one woman wearing a floral dress and a tiny black hat with a rose on it said.
“I mean…” she cackled, waggling her brows.
“Your apples.” Everyone cracked up at that, maniacal laughter filling the room as my biceps were groped for what felt like the dozenth time.
“Alright, ladies,” Jason’s voice echoed through the room. “Let’s stop terrorizing Joe, please.”
They giggled, hands dropping from my biceps as Jason blissfully diverted their attention away from me. I’d never been more glad to see a person in my life. Jason was lingering in the other doorway—the one leading into what looked like a dining room—having apparently left me to my own devices.
For how long?
I had no idea.
I would’ve been upset if I wasn’t grateful he’d stepped in to save me.
Again.
He was all casual confidence, like always.
Hands in his pockets, a smile on his face, his sweater cupping his shoulders in a way that was…
really distracting. No one had the right to be that effortlessly cool.
The gray in his hair looked brighter today, for some reason.
Maybe it was the lighting. I dunno. I liked it.
Made him look…distinguished, I guess.
“Go talk about knotting,” Jason made a shooing motion with his hands.
“Knitting?” I whispered, confused.
“No, no. Knotting, dear,” the floral-hat-lady said. She patted my shoulder. “That’s what you call that bump at the base of a werewolf’s penis.”
“What?” I choked.
The lady grinned evilly at me. The rest of them outright cackled as they wandered back to the corners of the room where they’d been before I’d arrived.
“Someone needs to get that boy a Kindle,” I heard one of them say.
The coffee in my grip was practically cold now.
Useless.
I hunched in on myself a little, frustrated with the whole situation. And also the fact that Jason was so far away. Was I supposed to move toward him? This whole thing felt like a lost cause. A failure. What the heck kinda thank you was a cold coffee?
A shit one.
“Hey,” Jason’s voice was honey as he strode through the room, answering my unspoken question without me having to ask. When he arrived, he didn’t touch me. Not the way he had previously, palms cupping my face—or his hand at my nape, or on my shoulder.
I wished he would.
I’d feel better if he did.
“Here.” I shoved the coffee at him.
Jason’s eyebrows shot up as he accepted the drink. He was only a foot away, and my pulse was skittering all over the place. He had more stubble today than usual. Not that he was ever truly clean-shaven. Just…yeah.
He looked nice.
“What’s this?” Jason lifted the cup to his nose, sniffing at the tiny hole a straw was supposed to fit through. If I’d thought to bring a straw. Ugh.
“Coffee,” I grunted miserably.
He snorted. “Yeah, baby, I deduced that.” The nickname baby made my skin heat even more. I was still reeling from the comment about werewolf penises. Maybe that was why I was so overwhelmed. “I meant, why are you giving me coffee?” His eyes were full of mischief.
Probably enjoying me squirming.
The sadist.
“Why didn’t you just ask that? If that’s what you meant.” I shuffled a little, curling in on myself. Jason softened even more.
“You’re right. Sorry.” He was a lot more nuanced when it came to communication than I was.
“I’ll be more straightforward in the future.
” He eyed the cup critically, like he could see through the cardboard to what was beneath.
“So? What is the meaning of your trip to the B&B and the coffee that you’ve so generously bequeathed me? ”
I bit my lip, suddenly too embarrassed to look at him.
I looked at his feet instead.
At his beat-up sneakers and the way he’d pegged his jeans to show off a pair of truly heinous socks. Christmas print. Even though it was only November and we hadn’t hit Thanksgiving yet.
“Joe?” Jason verbally poked.
“It’s my way of saying thank you.” The words were so quiet I was surprised he could hear them over the chatter of the women surrounding us. I could feel their eyes on us, observing. No doubt we’d be the subject of a rumor even without Jason’s help.
I wished we were alone.