Chapter 7 #2
An old fashioned bell attached above the door jingles as I enter. I’m instantly warm, which is a relief. The racks are filled with hoodies, sweaters, t-shirts, and sweatpants, all with some slogan that ties into Blissful. They have tons of colors and styles. I take my time browsing.
People come and go. Locals, I assume, since the proprietor calls them all by name. The bell over the door rings, and I glance up from flipping through t-shirts, only to do a full-body freeze.
A tall, broad man with auburn hair walks through the door with a young girl around five-years-old in his arms. The thermal shirt he wears pulls taunt across his chest and biceps. His daughter has on jeans and a jacket, with her red hair in pigtails.
The two of them together look exactly like the hockey player and his daughter from Hockey My Heart. My fictional book boyfriend Mickey has literally walked off the page into reality. I blink, but he’s still there.
“Miles!” the lady at the cash register says as he walks toward her. “I didn’t know you were visiting this weekend.”
“We aren’t visiting; we’re moving here. We arrived last night.”
She gasps. “I had no idea!”
“I asked Claudia not to tell anyone. I’m surprised she managed it.”
“Apparently your sister loves a good surprise more than sharing gossip. Who knew!”
They continue to talk, but I don’t listen.
I have to get a picture of them surreptitiously and send it to Mallory.
She will get a kick out of it. Half hiding behind the rack of t-shirts, I hold up my phone.
Just as my thumb presses on the capture button, I remember Mallory isn’t a close friend anymore.
She probably won’t laugh, but will use this as proof that I’m too wrapped up in books.
I imagine she’d show it to Krystal, and the two of them will laugh at me for being so entertained by the sight of Mickey in real life.
Before I drop my hand, the man catches me with my phone camera pointed in his direction. He studies me, head tilted, as if wondering how he knows me.
My body heats with embarrassment. What kind of person takes a picture of a stranger? A weird one.
I hide behind a rack in the corner until he makes his purchase and leaves.
I eventually decide on green sweatpants with Blissful written down the leg in fancy script, a gray t-shirt that says, “I hiked Rincon Peak,” and a thick green hoodie with the words, “Blissed Out in Blissful.”
Their shoe selection consists of flip flops. Better than my heels, but also not great if I want to avoid frostbite. I grab socks with images of smiling apples.
“You must love green,” the cashier says as she rings up my purchases.
“I’ve been told I look really good in it.” Thanks, Claudia.
“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you here visiting?”
“Yep. I needed to get out of the city for a day.” After I pay, I ask, “Do you mind if I change before I go?”
She waves a hand to the dressing room. “Not at all. Do you want me to cut off your tags?”
“Yes, thank you.”
DREW
When I enter room five, I swear I smell Stella’s perfume. She’s been on my mind all morning, but smelling her when she’s forty miles away is stupid.
It’s probably because of my conversation with Claudia. When she asked me about the woman with long brown hair who looks great in green, my thoughts went immediately to Stella and the dress she wore last night.
The more I get to know Stella, the more I like her.
She’s stirring feelings inside me I haven’t felt since Quinn left me for California.
It bothers me. I don’t want to fall for someone new.
Besides, Stella’s a city girl. I’m a country boy.
Those do not mix. I’ve tried it before. We will only ever be friends, so I need to make sure I never think of her as anything more.
When I finish the odd jobs at the bed and breakfast, I wave goodbye to Claudia and head outside. In the parking lot is a Camry, the same color blue as the one Stella drove away in last night.
This is getting ridiculous.
The hardware store is only a two minute drive away, but I’ve learned to bring my truck on every callout, no matter how close the job. I’ve needed a tool in my truck enough times that it’s easier to bring everything with me.
The speed limit along Second Street is a breakneck fifteen miles an hour.
Of course people think that means jaywalking isn’t a problem since they can run faster than I can drive.
I stop for Marla to walk across to the salon and glance over to the picnic tables set up between the Corner Café and Dairy King Freeze.
It’s surprisingly not busy on a Saturday at noon.
One woman, sitting by herself dressed in clothes from Blissful Clothing Co., catches my attention. The hood of her hoodie is over her head and as I watch, she pulls the chords tight so all that’s visible of her face are her eyes and nose.
Something about her reminds me of Stella.
Seriously, what is wrong with me? The woman is covered in oversized jersey material. How can she remind me of Stella?
The car behind me honks. Marla’s long gone, and I inch forward. The woman’s head follows my progress down the street.
Why the interest in my truck? I wonder … maybe I’m not going crazy. There’s enough evidence to suggest Stella is in Blissful.
There’s only one way to find out.
I pull onto the back road behind the hardware building and park.
All the stores on main street are built close together, but there’s a four foot space between the hardware store and the bookstore. I have fifteen minutes before I’m needed inside. Plenty of time to indulge my curiosity.