5. Lizzy
Chapter 5
Lizzy
I roll over in my bed and crack an eye open just as a drum solo wakes me. I touch my head gingerly when I realize the sound is coming from my pulsing migraine.
“I’m never touching wine again,” I mutter as I struggle to my feet.
Mr. Darcy meows at me from his perch in his cat tree.
“Don’t judge me,” I tell him. “It’s not my fault the cowboy is so good-looking.”
Wait, did I see Noah last night or was that just part of a dream? It had to be a dream.
After I shower and fix my wig and makeup, I stumble into the kitchen.
Walt is already there. He looks up from the table where he’s browsing The Courage Chronicle . It’s weird to see someone reading an actual newspaper, but I guess that’s the way it is in a small town. “You look like horse shit.”
“I feel it, believe me.” I reach for the carton of eggs in his fridge, cracking several into a frying pan. I like cooking breakfast for Walt. He always tells me how good my food is. The happier I make him, the longer I’ll get to stay.
He studies me as I work, but I pretend I don’t notice. If I’m here this morning, then I must have seen him last night. He’s probably the one that drove me home.
“Sorry for anything I said when I was drunk. I’m not…I don’t normally…” I let my voice trail off. I’m not like my mom. That’s what I’m trying to tell him. She had substance abuse issues. She was usually high on something. That’s why I was taken away from her and put in the system. As a kid, I never understood why she didn’t love me enough to stop using.
Walt chuckles. “No apologies needed. You barely said two words. By the time Noah brought you in, you were tuckered out.”
I drop the spatula and turn around to stare at him, open-mouthed. “Noah brought me home? Noah Maple?”
He nods. “Boy seems sweet on you.”
“He’s delusional,” I groan as flashes from last night slowly come back. I think I told him he was pretty. I think I wanted to kiss him.
“He’s a good boy.” Walt stands from his seat at the table to grab plates for our breakfast. He winces as he does. He tries to hide it, but I see it.
He has a problem with his hip. I told him he should see a doctor, but he always says he’s fine. After every shift at the bookstore, I find him in his favorite recliner with a heating pad pressed up against his hip.
“Why don’t you let me run the shop today?” I offer. It’s my day off, but if I stay around here, the only thing I’ll be doing is nursing a hangover. I might as well go to the shop.
He sets the table as he says, “Can’t. I got shipments coming in today.”
“Let me handle it. I handled the last one,” I tell him. The boxes were so damn heavy, but I didn’t complain to him. I’d like to live here for a little while longer. At least, until Walt gets tired of me. “Please. I’d like to work this hangover off.”
He hesitates and rubs the top of his nearly bald head. “Reckon I could use a day off to run some errands. Maybe go fishing with Tank.”
“Perfect.” I grin and finish the rest of my coffee.
Just as I’m grabbing my purse and Mr. Darcy, Walt says, “I’ll send a part-timer to help you out.”
I pause. “I didn’t know you had a part-timer.”
“It was never official or anything. Just shows up and helps out sometimes. I’ll send a text message.” He beams at me.
I showed him last week how to send text messages from his phone. He was so proud of himself. It was the first moment I felt like we were really grandfather and granddaughter. Like maybe he really likes me and doesn’t secretly think I’m a nuisance.
I’ve only been at the bookstore for twenty minutes when the bell above the door rings and Noah walks in. He’s in another flannel shirt and his brown Stetson. His tight blue jeans cling to his thick thighs and showcase an impressive bulge.
He’s frowning and staring intently at me. I’m not sure if he’s mad or has something in his eye.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, curious about what he’s doing here and why he’s frowning like that.
“I’m trying to do that squinchy thing with my eyebrows, so you’ll kiss me.”
My cheeks flame. I remember! I remember saying that. I whirl around to face him, gasping his name as I do. “I was drunk!”
“And sometimes that’s when the truth comes out.” He grins then stops and frowns again. “Sorry. How’s that? More kissable?”
“You are completely—”
“Irresistible,” he finishes the sentence and pulls me into his arms. His big hands find my hips, squeezing me through my skirt.
I huff out a sigh even as my arms go around his neck. I’d never tell him, but I love this easy, teasing banter with him. “I don’t think that’s the word I was going to use to describe you.”
“Well, it’s the word I’d use for you.”
My hands are on the hot skin of his neck, teasing the little hairs. He smells of cowboy cologne. It’s a musky scent of hard work and sweat and irresistible maleness.
“Kissable,” he says. “That’s the word you were looking for.”
He lowers his head, his mouth only inches from mine, and that’s the exact moment that Mr. Darcy gags loudly.
I turn my attention in time to see him produce a large hairball right there on the faded gray carpet of the bookstore.
It’s enough to bring me back to reality. I step away from the hot cowboy. “Aww, you poor thing! Are you feeling better now, Mr. Darcy?”
“You named your cat Mr. Darcy?” He asks as he follows me around the counter where I grab the cleaning spray and a rag for just such emergencies.
I shrug. “The name fits. His good opinion—”
“Once lost is lost forever.” He takes the cleaning rag and cloth from me and walks to the spot. He swoops and murmurs something to Mr. Darcy. I think he’s promising him tuna and treats if he doesn’t cockblock him again.
I fight a smile as I go back to work. I’m baffled by this cowboy who keeps showing up at the bookstore.
The rest of the day passes quickly. I expected Noah to leave at some point to tend to his family’s farm, but he keeps hanging around. He spends his time unloading the heavy boxes of books and moving around the shop with ease. It’s obvious he’s used to spending hours here, and I can’t say I mind having him around.
It’s no burden to look at his beautiful face all day but he is causing a problem. A big one.
“You can’t be doing this!” I hiss at him after he runs off the fifth customer.
“Doing what?” He’s the picture of innocence as he peels an orange with those big fingers of his. I imagine his fingers wrapping around my throat as he kisses all the air from my lungs. The thought makes the spot between my thighs ache. I’ve never been with anyone, never had a guy touch me. But there’s something about Noah. I want him to touch me, to stroke my pussy and tell me I’m his.
He raises his eyebrows at me in question then says in a gruff voice, “Sorry. Wrong direction.”
He’s frowning again and it’d be almost comical if he weren’t so infuriating. “You can’t keep running off my male customers! That’s the fifth one today!”
“I’m not letting them around you until you’re wearing my ring and have my baby in your belly.”
I do not need him talking about putting a baby in my belly. I do not need to imagine him stripping me naked and telling me he’s going to fill me with his come. “You’re a weirdo.”
He holds out the slice of orange to me. He removed the strings. I told him I love oranges but hate the white strings that get stuck in my teeth. “Live with me in wedded bliss and carry my heirs.”
I sigh in exasperation and manage to keep myself from reaching for the orange slice. “You know what? Just don’t talk to any of my customers at all.”
“I didn’t speak to any of the men in your shop,” he protests.
“Then stop growling at them and go be handsome somewhere else. You’re distracting me.”
He gives me a saucy grin, the grumpy frown I love so much fading from his features. “There are other ways I can distract you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not marrying you, Noah Maple.”
He invades my space, stepping next to me and crowding my body. I can feel the heat coming from his skin and I imagine what it would feel like to have our tongues tangling together. “I’m not letting you go, Lizzy.”
“Noah—” I call his name in warning. He can’t say stuff like this to me.
He takes my hand in his, pressing kisses to my knuckles. “Let me take you on a date.”
I pull my hand away as gently as I can, hating the disappointment that flickers on his face. “I’m not going out with you.”
“Yet,” he promises with a wink just as his cellphone rings. He answers it when he sees it’s a call from his brother.
I turn away and get back to busying myself with the shop. As I do, the social worker’s words come back to me. I was ten and she’d left my file unattended after yet another failed placement. I can still see those words in her flowing cursive. No family wants little Lizzy. She’s not pretty or smart or outgoing.
Noah might think he wants me today but once he gets to know me, he’ll change his mind. He’ll see that I’m not family material.