3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Elijah
Snacks-and-Sips was bustling. It shouldn't have surprised me, considering it was early on a Saturday morning. Tourists from near and far loved to flock to our little town no matter the season and the corner location of the coffee shop made it a hotspot of activity. I wrestled my way through the crowds admiring the eclectic décor and generations-worth of old newspaper clippings cluttering the walls before collapsing into a chair at my usual table. My friends were already there and waiting for me.
“You're late, Elijah.” Ashley, with her perfectly coiffed platinum blonde hair done up in a bun and her glittering blue eyes, grinned like the devil and pushed a latte across the table. “We ordered for you.”
“Thank God I'm predictable.” I lifted the caramel-laced confection to my nose and inhaled deeply. “How are you all? I feel like it's been ages.”
“Because it has been, you buffoon.” Lionel scooted his chair closer to me with a chuckle. The waifish man had downy soft fawn hair and the palest blue eyes in a fine-featured face that was reminiscent of a porcelain doll. We’d briefly dated before mutually deciding we worked better as friends. I loved him to death.
My cousin Brent leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “So, Town Supervisor? That’s going to be quite the upheaval if you win.”
“ When he wins,” Sally, a mousy brunette with a sassy side and glasses too large for her face, elbowed Brent in the ribs.
“When. Sorry.” Brent laughed and patted the top of Sally’s head. He turned back toward me and peered over the rim of his wire-frame glasses. A history teacher at the local school, he fit the stereotype to a T—bow tie, button-down shirt, and suspenders. I'd tried a million times to help him in the fashion department, but he was an old soul trapped in the strapping body of a young man and liked to dress the part.
“I'll need your help.” I shifted to loop my arm around Lionel’s shoulders as he scooted even closer. Even as friends, he desperately sought physical affection whenever possible. My cheek rested atop his hair as he cuddled into my side.
“I can get my graphic designer to make flyers!” Ashley punctuated her words with animated movements of her hands. “She does a ton of work for the salon. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to add campaign materials to her portfolio.”
“Perfect. God, I have to host events, I'll need to get a booth at the back-to-school block party… go door to door.” I shuddered at the thought of it. Maybe campaigning wasn't such a great idea.
Sally sat up straighter in her seat. “Ooo, I'll raid the Dollar Tree in Harper’s Falls for balloons and streamers.”
“And I'll go through my books for inspiration on political talking points.” Brent gestured with his teacup before bringing it to his lips for a microscopic sip.
“Don't look at me. I’m here for moral support only. If it isn't a flower, I'm utterly useless.” Lionel laced his arms around my waist with a laugh. “I can be the emotional support koala.”
“Here, here!” I gave him a squeeze and reached my free hand for my drink. “I appreciate you all so much.”
“Are you nervous?” Ashley cocked her head with a keen glare. “You surprised all of us with that text, you know?”
“I'm absolutely terrified, but it feels like the right move.” I squinted at the crowds but brushed off the niggling feeling that I was being watched. With so many people in the shop, it stood to reason we had an audience.
“I think it's a great idea. We need to shake things up around here.” Brent pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “Old man Dickson was progressive for his time. Which was five decades ago.”
We all laughed. No truer words had ever been spoken. The former Supervisor was a good, honest, hard-working man, but some of his ideals hadn't aged as well as others.
“Rainbow colors.”
We all turned to stare at Sally, who was off in her own world. She blinked behind her giant spectacles as if we should all have known what she wasn't talking about.
“Rainbow colors,” she stressed again, a shy smile sneaking over her features. “For your brand and decorations. I'm going to get rainbow colors. It'll be so cheerful.”
Ashley cooed and fluttered her fingers. “Yes, girl. I'll match it to the campaign materials. We can get pins, too!”
I balked with a soft gasp. “Don't you think that'll be a bit… aggressive? A little too in-your-face?”
“No, it'll be perfect. We love rainbows. Everyone loves rainbows.” Lionel peered up at me with a grin. “And we want this to be in your face. It's quite fitting.”
With a sigh, I gave a relenting nod. “If that’s what you think—”
“Morning, folks.”
Every eye snapped toward the all-too-familiar voice. My nerves were instantly on edge. I'd known someone was watching. No surprise, it was the bane of my existence.
“Sheriff Will! Hi.” Ashley leaned forward just a little more, flicking a lock of hair from her eyes. “Look at you, all dolled up.”
“Just Will is fine. I'm not on duty.” He rested a hand on the back of my chair. Though there was no physical touch between us, I could feel the heat radiating from his fingertips. Lionel was still cinched tight to my side, leaving me unable to pull away.
“Have a seat, Will.” Brent gestured toward the only empty chair at the table—the chair right beside me.
“Thanks,” he oozed, full of boy next door charm and sex appeal. My scowl grew deeper. He spun the chair around and straddled it with ease, his arms folding over the top and his knee bumping mine for how far his legs had to spread to accommodate the back of the chair. “This looks like an important meeting. Hope I'm not interrupting?”
“Not at all, sugar.” If Ashley batted her eyes any harder, her false lashes were liable to flutter away of their own volition. “We’re helping Elijah plan his campaign for Town Supervisor.”
William’s liquid honey eyes found my gaze with a crooked smile. “I heard about that. Good luck, EJ.”
“He’ll need it,” Brent quipped from the other side of the table. “Not because he’s not qualified, but…”
He shrugged and retrieved his teacup.
“I feel ya. Tough crowd.” Will bumped my knee again with his. Lionel, in his exceptionally close position, caught the movement and slowly eased back into his own chair. The smirk on his doll-like features had no right being so smug.
“You want to help?” Lionel shifted until he could prop his elbow on the table and stare at Will with a devious glint in his eyes. “I'm sure EJ would appreciate it.”
“Sign me up.” William drummed out a little rhythm on the back of the chair as he sat up straight. “Speaking of help… how’d it work out with those brake lights?”
My cheeks grew so hot I was sure there were flames shooting from them. “Uh… it's… on my to-do list.”
Everyone’s eyes bounced around the table in confusion as Will smiled, slow and smug. “Five o’clock. Your place. I'll bring my toolkit.”
“No! No, I—”
“Six?”
Lionel kicked my ankle under the table and interrupted. “He’ll be there. Five thirty.”
With a nod and his insufferable dimpled grin, Will unfurled his frame from the chair to loom over the table. “Sounds like a plan. Y’all have a good one. I'll be seeing you around.”
Everyone said pleasant greetings as he tucked the chair under the table and sauntered away. Everyone but me. I scowled extra hard at his broad, bulky back as he left. He really did look all dolled up in a fitted black t-shirt and sinfully fitted dark-wash jeans. Stupid Will with his stupid smile. Stupid jeans. Stupid sunglasses. Stupid golden brown hair and stupid ass I wanted to bite just to see if it was as firm as it looked. Purely for science.
“Jeez, Elijah. Do I need to call animal control? You're foaming at the mouth.” Brent snickered into his teacup.
“Screw you,” I muttered, turning back to glower at my cousin’s smirking expression.
“But really… EJ? No one calls you that.” Lionel cupped his chin in his palms with an angelic smile. “The way he kept looking at you… swoon.”
“Wait, is he…?” Ashley blinked her eyes and cocked her head in confusion.
“Not for us to theorize.” Sally wagged a finger with a stern voice. “But if I had to guess, I smell a second chance romance in Elijah’s future.”
“Oooo, yes. Get it, boy.” Ashley shimmied her shoulders with a giggle of glee. “I remember the rumors in high school. God, how positively adorable!”
“All of you can shut it now. He's an insufferable prick with an egotistical attitude, and I don't have time to bother with the likes of him. Not after what he did.”
“El, it was ten years ago. He’d just lost his mom. You really need to let it go.” Brent eyed me over the rim of his glasses. “Will’s a good guy. I get that he hurt you, and that's totally fair and valid. But he’s not the big bad wolf you're making him out to be.”
My shoulders sagged as my chest deflated. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I'd been carrying this grudge for so long that I didn't know how to put it down. Maybe it was time I learned.
“Swoony. And he’s going to be at your house!” Lionel reached out and ruffled my hair. “You need to make yourself beautiful and get a charcuterie board.”
I blinked at my best friend, baffled and stifling snickers. “A cheese board?”
“Yes. Get the beer cheese. He seems like a beer cheese and cured meats man. You know, a het-passing gay boy with lots of muscles and an affinity for sports?”
We all erupted in laughter that garnered too much attention to the fluctuating crowds.
“That would almost be offensive if it weren’t so on the nose.” I booped Lionel’s nose with the tip of my finger.
After a brief detour into teasing me about imagined chemistry between myself and Will, we spent the rest of the morning discussing plans for my campaign. I had six short weeks to pull off a miracle, but by the time we were wrapping up, my confidence had started to grow. It was amazing what a good group of loyal friends could do for my outlook.
As the evening rolled around, my unease increased, but it had nothing to do with campaigning or potentially becoming the youngest Town Supervisor in the history of Windhaven. No, it had everything to do with a certain six-foot-two Sheriff due to arrive at my house any moment. I tried to tell myself I wasn’t anxious about making a good impression, even as I raced through my cottage to clean up all the clutter and dust all the surfaces. I refused to talk about the giant bowl of Doritos or the expensive six-pack of beer I’d grabbed from the market on my way home—especially since I didn’t even drink beer.
My conflicted feelings over William had only become more tangled over the last few days. My cousin’s comment also stung a lot more than I wanted to admit. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to put the past to bed and start fresh. If anything, finding a way to act civil around the man would help when I was forced to work closely with him in the event I actually won the position. The fact that he’d grown from an attractive teen to a drop-dead gorgeous specimen of a man over the last decade was no small part of my antsiness.
My anxious energy increased exponentially as soon as the big black pickup truck pulled into my driveway. This was a terrible idea. Catastrophically terrible. I shouldn't have been so worked up over it. Once upon a time, Will and I spent every waking minute together that we could. I knew him better than anyone and he knew me. But ten years was a long time. My mind kept tripping over the juxtaposition of so much shared history and such a long time since we were close.
He jumped out of his truck and sauntered toward the bed. I damn near swallowed my tongue and then promptly moved away from the window where I'd been staring like a creep. That was the last thing I needed. I slapped my cheeks a few times with my fingertips to clear the fog and swung the door open—very casually, I might add.
“Hi. You're here.” Casual went right out the window as my voice squeezed out a full octave higher than normal. I coughed and struck my chest with a fist to realign everything. “Sorry, hi. Thanks for coming.”
He skimmed me up and down from afar before the dimples in his cheeks grew deeper. “Hi.”
“Um, wanna beer?” I waved over my shoulder toward the kitchen. The movement was the exact opposite of casual.
“Oh… hell, why not?” He prowled, yes prowled, up the driveway, dropped a toolbox beside my car, and continued to advance toward the steps of my tiny porch.
I froze in place as he climbed the stairs and stepped into my personal space, his grin growing wider with every step. “Am I allowed to have that beer inside or are we going to stand here on this pretend porch?”
With only a handful of inches between us, I shouldn't have felt so overwhelmed, but damn if he wasn't imposing. I lifted my eyes to maintain eye contact and the mirrored tumult of his own mixed emotions struck like lightning to my core. My former best friend's face was still so painfully familiar, but age had robbed him of the softness of youth and replaced it with a harder edge. Remorse and longing, regret and reminiscence shown in his gaze. I was almost positive mine reflected the same.
“Please, come in.” I stepped back, faster than necessary, simply to find the space I needed to breathe. So many memories I'd mourned assaulted my mind in rapid fire flashes. There was still hurt there, but nostalgia and a sudden need to see if there was anything left to salvage burned hotter than the lingering pain.
“This is a nice place.” His hands disappeared into the back pockets of his jeans. “New build?”
I led the way into the kitchen, answering over my shoulder. “About five years old. It was one of those tiny home kits. Cost a fortune but my parents helped out a lot.”
“Nice. Bigger than most of those tiny house things I see.” He slipped into the kitchen behind me and immediately eyed the bowl of chips.
“I couldn't handle the super small ones. This was a compromise between the bigger ones and the super small ones.” I gently nudged the bowl toward him. Another pang of nostalgia hit without mercy. He’d always loved Doritos. Some things never changed, despite how many changes had come between us.
The crunch, crunch, crunch of the Doritos killed what little small talk we had managed as I cracked open the beer and set it beside the bowl. His thanks came in the form of a wink. The fact that he was sucking the red dust from his fingertips as he did it sent my mind into a tailspin. Okay, Mr. Doherty. Way to toy with a man’s body.
I turned away with a small huff and returned to the fridge for a drink and some space. I skipped the beer and went straight for the White Claws I kept on hand for when the mood struck. Again, not a great decision when I was already worked up.
“I think running for the position is a good idea, for what it’s worth. You were always going to go places. You'll be great for the role.” His uncertain smile as I glanced over the door of the refrigerator tugged at something in my chest. Hard.
“Thanks, Will. That… actually means a lot to me.”
A strained silence fell over us as we got trapped in the eye contact, a decade’s worth of things left unsaid screaming into the void. I wanted so badly to find a way to bridge the gap. He clearly wanted to say something, judging by the way his jaw clenched and opened and clenched again. Never in my lifetime had I ever seen this confident, capable person look so damn insecure and part of me, a part I'd long buried under hate and hurt and mourning, wanted to rush toward him and hug him until he was no longer so unsteady.
Again, he opened his mouth to speak and I held my breath. A quick dart of his tongue over his lower lip caught my attention, but the anticipatory silence fell flat and hollow once he finally uttered words I didn't realize I didn't want to hear until it was too late.
“Lemme take care of those brake lights and I'll be out of your hair.”
“Oh…” My heart plummeted as fast as my shoulders sank. “Sure. Thanks again.”
“It's my pleasure, EJ.” He stole a quick glance at my face, the charming smile I still pined for replaced by a sad, inadequate shadow. “I mean it.”
“Will…”
“It should only take about twenty minutes.” He spun on his heel, beer and chips both abandoned. Right alongside me.
“Sure. That's fine.” My words fell on deaf ears. He was already gone by the time the last syllable left my lips. Yeah, this was a terrible decision. Misplaced, unnecessary hate hadn’t hardened my heart nearly as much as I had thought it did.