Chapter 11 #2
He’d come into the store early on, but Shelby made herself scarce. She was mortified about the incident at the Dairy Bar yesterday.
Brendan’s friends had acted like a bunch of bullies. After she expressed disapproval Brendan made them stop, but initially
he’d been laughing right along with them.
It seemed so out of character. He was such a gentleman with her. He said the sweetest things and always offered to help Gram or Dad when he came to the house. Sometimes it seemed he was a different person with his friends than he was with her. Which person was the true Brendan Remington?
She finished shelving the new Lisa Wingate novel. She’d had the chance to read the advance copy and was excited to hand sell
it to readers. She already had it on hold for several regulars. As she began placing Lee Child’s new release on an endcap,
she couldn’t help but remember a couple days ago when Gray had mentioned the author as they discussed Shelby’s romance novel.
“It’s not Lee Child, but I’ll admit it exceeded my expectations.”
Gray might be annoying, but at least he had good taste in literature. She placed the last book. But before she could withdraw
her hand, she grabbed the hardcover edition and stared at the cover. Gray would probably love to read the new release.
Would he be able to afford it? As far as she knew he’d never come into the store to purchase books. Even if he couldn’t afford
it, his grandma would probably buy it for him—though Gray didn’t seem like the type to ask for much.
There was always the library though. She placed the book back on the shelf.
Although a Lee Child novel would undoubtedly have a waiting list—possibly months long. But waiting wouldn’t kill him, would
it?
Her thoughts returned to the Dairy Bar. To the way his neck had flushed as Brendan’s stupid friends poked fun at the old truck
everyone knew had been his father’s. He’d been silent and stoic. And even though she didn’t partake in the harassment, she
felt guilty by association.
She grabbed the book off the shelf and went to the checkout where she gave herself an employee discount and put her cash in the drawer.
At the thought of handing him the gift, her heart trampled her lungs.
She could just leave it in his truck—it was parked right in front of the store.
He’d surely know it was from her, but she could live with that.
She wanted him to have the book—a sort of peace offering.
She placed the novel in a brown paper bag and waited for an opportunity. Today would likely be his last day at the shop, so
she didn’t have much time. After today she’d only see him when he mowed, if then. When he took a lunch break, she had her
chance.
Gray left the comfortable shade of the live oak and left the park. He preferred to be finished at the bookshop by lunchtime
so he had time to go home and shower before his shift at the hardware store. He didn’t dare show up late as Joe Lang would
love an excuse to fire him. Gray wished he had other options. But he’d applied all over town for a summer job and only got
that one because his grandma pulled in a favor.
He only had one more bed to mulch and the front of the store would be complete. He dumped his garbage as he passed a trash
can. The store was only a block away, so it was a quick walk back.
On the way he mentally tallied the money adding up in his bank account. Even if he got that scholarship—and he would—he would
incur other costs at college. It didn’t cover books or lodging. But between what he’d saved this summer and what he’d make
while working part-time at college, he should be able to swing it. He’d narrowed down his choices to three colleges: Vanderbilt,
Rollins, and Appalachian State. All of them were close enough he could check in on his grandma regularly.
Granny had offered to take out a home equity loan for college, but he’d never allow that. She’d already taken him in when
he had no place to go. And his dad had taken advantage of her generosity many times before he went to prison. Gray refused
to be that kind of person.
If he was going to make something of himself—and he was—he’d do it on his own.
When he reached the bookstore he went back to work and finished just over an hour later. Miss Viola had said she’d settle
up with him at the end of the week, so there was no reason to linger. He packed up his tools.
A few minutes later as he headed toward his truck, he thought of Shelby inside the store. They didn’t exactly run in the same
circles, and he’d miss those random encounters. The chance to push her buttons. He enjoyed getting her all riled up. It was
so opposite to the sunny personality she normally exuded. He loved that she was such a paradox.
He dumped his tools in the truck bed, then opened the door to get in the cab. His gaze caught on something sitting on his
hood. He frowned at the brown bag as he walked around the open door. It was leaning against the windshield, the top folded
over several times.
A couple months ago someone had left a gift bag on their porch. He assumed it was for Granny from one of her friends and made
the mistake of bringing it into the house. The stench quickly alerted him to his mistake. The bag was literally full of crap.
Gray surveyed the area for some clue as to who might’ve left today’s “gift.” A lady was headed into the bookshop. Miss Patsy
was outside putting up sale signage for her boutique. Other than that, no one was around.
Gray returned his attention to the bag. He wasn’t afraid of a little dog crap, but he wouldn’t put it past Devon or Drew to
gift him with a copperhead snake, and that could end badly.
He grabbed a rake from the bed and used the handle to knock the sack from the hood. It landed on the pavement with a thud.
He watched it for a sign of movement but the bag remained still, so he set the rake aside, glancing around once again for
anyone loitering. Seeing no one, he cautiously opened the sack, then widened its mouth.
Not smelling anything, he peeked inside. A book. He lifted the bag and pulled out a hardcover copy of Lee Child’s new release—one he’d been anticipating.
His thoughts went back a couple of days to when he’d mentioned the author to Shelby. His gaze darted toward the second-story
window. A shadow darted away. Or maybe that was just a trick of the light.
Recalling the spectacle he’d just made of himself, he hoped it was the latter. But as he got in the truck, still clutching
the brand-new book, he could only think about one fact.
Shelby Thatcher had given him a gift.
It didn’t even matter that she probably hadn’t even had to pay for it. Or that it was likely some kind of guilt offering for
the way her boyfriend and his minions had treated him the day before.
The only thing that mattered was that Shelby had remembered his love of the author and taken the time to do something kind
for him. Interesting that she’d left it for him to find rather than giving it to him directly. Maybe she was afraid of making
him feel like a charity case. Or maybe she was just too shy to... extend an offer of friendship? Was that what this was?
He glanced at the book, the notion giving rise to a bubble of hope.
He scowled at his reaction. Ideas like that were sure to get him in trouble. But that didn’t stop him from taking one last
glance at the bookshop window as he pulled away.