Chapter 10
Maverick
Over the next week, I occasionally dipped into the bookstore to use the bathroom. We had a portable bathroom, but it wasn't that great, and using the one in the store gave me an opportunity to observe Belle.
Today, she was sitting in the rocking chair in the children's section, reading a book, surrounded by a group of kids. She hadn't seen me, so I stood off to the side to watch her. She leaned forward, moving the open book around the half circle, so that everyone could see the pictures.
Her tone was soft and engaging, changing voices for each character. I was just as entranced with her reading as the kids who sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her.
She wore a purple cardigan over a white blouse with a black skirt with tights. She always dressed nicely and looked professional. It made me want to muss her clothes, rip those tights off, and maybe knock her reading glasses askew.
This was the reason I was supposed to stay away from her. I wanted to corrupt her, but she wasn't that kind of girl.
She probably preferred missionary position in a comfortable bed. Not me finger fucking her between the stacks. Just the thought of that had me getting hard.
I ducked into the bathroom to get some space from my errant thoughts. I wasn't supposed to be watching her.
When I came out of the bathroom, story time was over, and people were dispersing. Some to play with the toys, others to pick out books, and a few were checking out.
Belle was busy at the counter, but she looked up and caught my gaze. A slow smile spread over her face. I couldn't help but move toward her. "You're busy today."
"Everyone loves story time." And then to the customer. "Thanks for coming in. I can't wait to hear how Simon likes it."
The mother smiled, taking her paper bag of books. "I'll let you know next week."
There was no one else in line, and suddenly, I wondered what I was doing here.
Belle tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. "You were watching me during story time."
"You saw that?"
She nodded.
"Your voice is engaging. I liked listening to you—you know, the story." I almost slipped and admitted how much I was enthralled by her and not just the book she was reading.
She was quiet, just watching me.
"You're good with them. You know, the kids," I was quick to add, hoping she didn't see right through me. Why was it so hot in here? How could she think straight?
She bit her lip, then slowly released it. "I don't mind if you listen at story time."
I smiled, trying to go for nonchalant. "Just don't tell my brothers. They'll give me hell for it."
"I won't," she said as I backed away, needing space.
It was easier when I stayed outside and watched through the window.
Coming inside to see her working made everything worse.
The more I saw, the more I liked her. She was sweet with the kids and everyone else.
It wasn't a persona she put on; she really was a nice girl.
She deserved the best, not someone like me.
We were too different. It was a mantra I kept repeating to myself when I was alone at night and thinking about her wearing reading glasses and cardigans. It shouldn't have been sexy, but it was.
I was drawn to her, and it hadn't diminished with time or distance. That made what I was doing more dangerous.
I left more determined than ever to keep my distance.
It was a job. One I'd do well and then move on.
The pictures would go in my portfolio, new clients would roll in, and I'd be busier than ever.
I wouldn't have time to even think about Belle and her bookstore. This pesky crush would be in the past.
After I ensured that everything was cleaned up, I met Ford and Hudson at the bar down the street. Since we worked in the same town, we occasionally met for a beer after work.
They were already seated at the bar, so I pulled out the stool next to Ford.
He raised a brow. "Rain put an early end to your workday?"
"I hate rain." But today I needed this. If I was close to Belle when her shop closed, I'd probably do something stupid like go inside and kiss her like I'd been dreaming about for weeks. I had a feeling it would eclipse that time under the bleachers.
The only problem was that if I touched her, I wouldn't be able to stop. I didn't have any qualms about doing something in her shop, but her bed was just upstairs. It was too great a temptation. Taking her to bed meant making a commitment I wasn't ready for.
Ford shrugged. "When you work outside, it's inevitable."
"I hate delays." I accepted the beer from the bartender and tipped it back. The burn felt good on the back of my throat.
"You're crankier than usual today," Hudson said.
I set the bottle down. "I can't wait for this job to be done."
"I would have thought you'd be excited about this one. It's a big job," Ford said.
"She already wants to add a fireplace."
"Are you saying she's a difficult client?" Ford asked.
I sighed. "Not exactly."
Hudson leaned his elbows on the bar top. "So you don't like her?"
I tipped the bottle back. "Something like that."
“You like her,” Hudson said.
I slammed the bottle down with a little too much force.
The bartender gave me a sharp look.
"I don't want to like her. She's nothing but trouble," I growled, wishing we could talk about anything but this.
Hudson shifted on his stool to face me, and Ford moved back, an amused expression on his face. "You're telling me that Belle, the good girl in high school who wears cardigans and skirts—"
"And reading glasses during story time," I added with a sneer.
Ford chuckled.
Fuck, I was probably proving their point.
Hudson nodded seriously. "You're saying she's a troublemaker."
"Yup." I tried to look at the screen where a replay of some baseball game was playing.
"You're full of shit," Hudson scoffed.
Ford swirled the liquid in his bottle. He was probably nursing his beer so he could go home to Natasha. "Are you sure there isn't a small part of you that's attracted to her, but your brain is telling you she's not your usual type?"
"I don't have a type," I persisted, knowing I was being stubborn.
"Women you pick up at a bar who are all too happy to go home with you and not say a word when you disappear before morning."
I picked at the label on the bottle. "I haven't done anything like that in a long time. I'm focused on work."
"You're not interested in a relationship," Ford said matter-of-factly.
"The house and the white picket fence aren't for me. I want to build the business to something I can be proud of first."
Ford raised a brow. "And then you'll find someone?"
"I haven't thought much about it." In high school, I naively thought I could ask Belle out like I was any other guy and take her out in my beat-up Camaro. But she deserved better.
"When are you going to start thinking of yourself as someone who deserves everything that comes his way?" Ford asked.
I gave him a warning look. "Don't start that feelings shit with me. I'm not Hudson."
"Hey," Hudson warned.
"So you don't think that Belle is too good for you?" Ford asked.
"Well, yeah—" And then I paused because he'd tripped me up.
Ford exchanged a look with Hudson.
I didn't appreciate their psychoanalysis. "There's no way she'd be interested in someone like me anyway. I stood her up in high school. Even though I apologized, she'd be dumb for giving me another chance." And there was one thing Belle wasn't, and that was dumb.
"You know Mom and Dad always talked about how you tested high achieving in school. That your misbehavior was because you were bored."
I snorted. "My grades were awful."
"Because you didn't try, and you didn't care. You weren't challenged. Why do you think you go for the hardest jobs now? You're not dumb, and if you think you're less than because you're a blue-collar worker, you're not."
"That means we're all less than, and that's not true," Hudson agreed.
"You have good women, but that's not what I want."
Ford held his palms up. "All we're saying is that if you want Belle, you could pursue her. She might even like you back. Didn't she say yes to a date in high school?"
My jaw ached from clenching. "That was before I stood her up."
"Aspen said you took care of Belle when she was sick," Ford said, his gaze assessing me.
Hudson inclined his head. "So you're a good guy."
The space between my shoulder blades felt stiff. "I did what anyone else would do in that situation."
Hudson's brow furrowed. "I wouldn't do that unless I liked a woman. I might call someone for her or drop off groceries. But I wouldn't have stayed all day and made her dinner if I didn't want her."
"I can want her from afar; it doesn't mean that I get to have her." I wasn't even sure I was making any sense at this point.
"It's not like I'm good enough for Angela. She puts up with me for some unknown reason. But I'm going to prove to her every day that I'm deserving of her," Hudson said, his voice gruff.
"That's different," I insisted, my hands gripping the bottle.
Hudson set his elbows on the bar and turned his head so that he was looking at me. "You could step up and be the man Belle deserves."
That hit differently. I needed to be deserving of her. But not in a way that wasn't possible. In a way that I could fix. Hope bloomed in my chest. Could I have the one woman I'd always wanted? It sounded too easy. Too good to be true.
"Hudson's right. None of us technically deserve the women we're with. Instead, we do everything in our power to prove our worth to them. And we do it every day."
My lip curled. "That sounds like work."
Hudson chuckled. "Relationships are hard work. Just wait until you have a kid in the mix. I want to be the man Ayla deserves in her life too. She has a dad, but that doesn't mean I can't be another father figure to her."
The pressure was real. "You're saying that I can be the man she deserves. If that's what I want."
"Yes," Ford said simply.
That outlook knocked something loose inside me. It gave me hope that I had a chance. That I didn't have to keep denying myself. The thought of making a move on Belle was exciting.
I hadn't allowed myself to think about any other possibilities other than the one where she was my client. What if I let myself have what I'd always wanted? What's the worst thing that could happen? "You know this could blow up in my face, right? I've never really done anything like this before."
"I think we only feel this way about one woman in our lifetime," Ford said thoughtfully.
Ford dated Natasha in high school, and then they broke up when he enlisted in the Army. When they both returned to town, they were forced to work together. It didn't take long for them to fall back into old patterns and into a relationship.
It had worked out for them, but they had a more significant history. What did I have? A few flirtations, a kiss, and then the betrayal when I stood her up, left her feeling rejected. "I don't know if I'm up for this."
"We're imperfect. We're bound to screw up.
But if we're pure in our intentions, and we make an effort, I'm convinced that we'll be okay.
Because at the end of the day, I love Angela.
She doesn't expect perfection. She expects that I'm going to apologize when I screw things up and make it up to her.
If I stopped caring, then there would be a problem. "
I couldn't imagine not caring about Belle. I'd been out of my mind when I saw her lying on the bathroom floor. "It's becoming physically impossible to keep my distance from her."
"So don't," Ford said simply, eyeing the game on the TV.
He made it sound so easy. I should trust my heart and do what felt right. What if that meant heading back to her shop and locking the door behind us so that I could finally kiss her without any onlookers or time constraints?
Hudson leaned over and slapped my shoulder. "If you screw up, we'll be here for you."
"I don't know if I should take advice from you two."
Ford raised a brow. "You think Morgan or Cooper would be any better? I don't think either of them have been in a serious relationship."
I shook my head. "Maybe Aspen would have something to offer?"
Hudson snorted. "If she goes through men like she goes through jobs—"
"Don't talk about Aspen like that," Ford chided.
"Sorry, I just don't know about her sometimes. She works so many part-time jobs, and nothing sticks."
"She seems happy," was all I could manage. I wasn't in any place to give advice on how to live your life.
"She drives Mom crazy," Ford said.
"If Mom is focused on her job prospects, she's less likely to pressure us for grandkids," Hudson said.
"I'm fairly sure you're good for now since you have Ayla. She's one of us," Ford said, and Hudson nodded, his eyes getting a little misty.
"Ayla's the best part of you," I said.
Ford chuckled. "Are you saying we'd take Ayla over Hudson?"
I leaned back in my chair, feeling more relaxed for some reason. "Any day of the week."
"Hey," Hudson protested, but it was weak.
He knew Mom adored Angela and Ayla. If something happened between Hudson and Angela, she wouldn't cut off ties with the woman.
Not that anything would happen. Their relationship was solid.
They'd gone through so much with the flooding of her store, then Rob trying to sabotage the reopening.
We ordered appetizers, nursing our beers while talking about work.
I couldn't help but wonder if I could have Belle if I wanted her. I wanted to go over to her store right now and act on every one of the impulses I'd held back over the years.