Chapter 5
Chapter Five
T he laughter died in Leni’s throat, and she suddenly had a hard time swallowing.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him, stiffening her tone as she tried to change the subject. There was no point dredging up old memories from the past.
Those days were gone.
“I’m just pouring coffee,” Chevy said. “I told you, the ladies like things fancy.”
“No. I mean what are you doing at a knitting club?”
His lips pulled up in a sheepish grin as he lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “I used to bring my grandma into town for this. Sometimes I’d run errands while I waited to pick her up or I’d just wait in the truck, but she’d usually talk me into coming in and visiting with her and her friends. I’d heard knitting was a good stress reliever, so I gave it a try. I was shit at knitting, but it sure made Gran happy.”
She wanted to ask him what he was so stressed about, but he seemed lost in the memory of spending time with his grandmother.
“After a while, I started picking up the other ladies,” he continued. “Ruby, Greta, and Mabel—it just became something they counted on. I went in to help Greta one time with her computer, she’d gotten herself locked out of some app or something, and then they all started having me help them with stuff. They’re pretty independent, but they seem to like having me fuss over them a little bit, and I don’t mind helping them out.”
“I’ll bet,” she said, her tone taking on that harshness again. “I’m sure you just love all the attention of these women fussing over you like a bunch of knitting mother hens.”
He shrugged, his focus still on the coffee, but his voice was softer now. “Yeah. Actually, I do. Of course I do. You know I had a shit mother, and the only woman who ever treated me like her own was my grandma. And she’s gone now. So, yeah, I let my grandmother’s best friends’ fuss over me a bit. I won’t deny that it feels nice to have them spoil me a little, but I spoil them too.”
She ducked her head, regretting the roughness of her words. “I’m sorry about June. I wanted to come back for her funeral, but I was in the middle of my master’s, and I’d just been offered the job with Boeing…it’s not an excuse…I just couldn’t make it work.”
“It’s okay. I understand. Your school and work took priority. And that’s how it should be.” He nudged her shoulder gently with his. “And she knew you loved her.”
“I really did,” she whispered, her voice obstructed by the giant lump in her throat. She blinked back the tears that threatened her eyes. She would not cry in front of Chevy.
“So,” Chevy said, busying himself with the last carafe of coffee. He cleared his throat, as if the mention of his grandmother’s funeral stirred emotions in him, too. Or maybe it was talking about her being at school—but that had been his choice. “Did you take the job with Boeing?”
“Oh, um, yeah.”
“What do you do there?”
“I’m an aerospace engineer.”
“Wow. Impressive. So, what do you actually do ?”
She shrugged, always a little self-conscious talking about her work. When most people found out what she did, they usually either assumed her job was high-powered and like an episode of Top Gun—it was not—or that she was a super-smart boring math and physics nerd. The second one was closer to the truth. “I do a lot of things, but mainly I design, develop, and help test aircraft, satellites, and spacecraft.”
That was the part that usually had someone’s eyes glaze over with boredom, but Chevy’s eyes widened, and a huge grin broke across his face. “That’s amazing. Just like you always dreamed of.” He reached out like he was going to touch her arm, then must have changed his mind and let his hand drop. His voice was thick with emotion as he told her, “I’m so damn proud of you.”
She stared at him, staggered by the sudden well of tears in his eyes, and once again, blinking back her own.
Turning away, she tried to concentrate on setting out the last of the cinnamon buns. “I assumed you knew all this. My sister acts like she brags me about me all the time. And I know you see her here at church.” This was a small town. She figured everyone knew exactly what she did. Although, she’d been a nerdy nobody when she’d lived here, and no one had cared about what she did back then, so why would anyone care about what she did now.
Chevy picked up the tray. “Everyone knows what I did, so nobody really talks to me about you,” he said before pushing through the door.
“Oh,” she said to the empty room, then followed him out with the tray of baked goods. She set them on the table next to the coffee carafes then couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands.
“This all looks wonderful,” Ruby said, picking up a cheese Danish. “And the coffee smells amazing.”
“I hope you all enjoy it,” Leni said, trying to get back into business mode. “And speaking of coffee, I should probably get back to the shop. I’ll call you tomorrow, Miss Ruby, to follow up on your next order. You all can let me know if there was anything you particularly enjoyed or if there were things you’d rather I leave off next time.”
“Sounds good,” Greta said, perusing the tray of goodies. “But they all look delicious. I’m sure we’re going to enjoy them all.”
“Okay, then,” she said, backing toward the stairs. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Chevy said, untying the apron and leaving it on one of the tables.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
“I know, but I want to.”
In truth, she was glad to have him walk her out to her car. As much as she’d dreaded seeing him, now she didn’t feel quite ready to say goodbye. Her emotions flip-flopped from happy to sad to angry like a fresh trout caught and released onto the bank of a mountain stream.
As she followed him up the stairs and out into the late summer sunshine, memories flooded through her. They had practically grown up together and reminders of time spent with him were everywhere.
He had hurt her so badly. But it also felt good. Talking and even laughing with him—things she’d been sure would never happen again—felt natural, even a little good, like slipping on one of Chevy’s favorite faded flannel shirts again.
He came to an abrupt stop, and she ran into the back of him. Putting her hands up, she couldn’t help but notice the solid muscle of his back. Heat warmed her chest as the scent of him surrounded her—the same woodsy cologne with a hint of citrus he’d always worn.
How could accidentally bumping into him bring up so many feelings? Feelings she’d spent years trying to bury.
“Whoa. Is this your car?” He let out a low whistle as he admired her Tesla Model S. “I mean this must be your car. I don’t think we have another Tesla in town and none with Washington plates. Damn. Boeing must be treating you right. This thing is fancy as all get out.”
She pushed back her shoulders, ready to defend the sporty car. They weren’t a novelty around Seattle. And she loved the Deep Blue Metallic color but hadn’t thought about how much it would stand out in the small mountain town that had mainly trucks and SUVs parked along the main street of downtown.
“Yes, it’s mine. Obviously. But I mainly drive it to help the environment,” she told him. Which was true, but she also loved everything else about the car—it’s sleek aerodynamic design, the gorgeous gray leather interior, the way the steering wheel and dash had the feel of a luxury spacecraft. “It’s all electric, so I’m leaving less of a carbon footprint. And I save a ton by not buying gas and just plugging it in.” She didn’t need to mention that she’d spent a small fortune buying the car, but she’d used her first bonus at Boeing for the down payment and hadn’t ever regretted the decision.
“Wait. No gas at all?” He scratched the back of his neck as he walked around the back of the car as if looking for an outlet. “I hate to sound like a country bumpkin, but I honestly don’t know much about these things. You really just plug this car in? To what?”
She tried to hide her smile. Chevy was no country bumpkin. He was just a truck guy. She wondered if he had the same Chevy pickup he’d been driving when she’d last seen him. All the Lassiter brothers drove the brands of truck they were named for. Or at least they had the last time she’d lived here.
“To a charging station,” she explained. “It takes between six and twelve hours to fully charge it when I’m at home, but I can do it in less than thirty minutes if I plug into a Supercharger in the city. Then I can get up to two hundred miles in a fifteen-minute charge.”
“Really?” He ran his hand along the hood, as if you were itching to pop it and check out the engine.
She nodded. “The only problem here is that our old house, I mean Lauren’s place now, isn’t wired for charging it. And the only two places progressive enough in Woodland Hills to even have electric car chargers are the library and the new Gas and Go out by the highway—but neither have the Supercharger kind.”
“So, how are you charging this thing?”
“At the library. I talked to the librarians, and they said barely anyone uses their charger, so they let me plug it in and leave it there overnight when I first got to town. Like everything in this town, it’s only a ten-minute walk away, and I just picked it up on my way to work the next morning.”
“Nice. I’ve never ridden in a Tesla before,” he told her, a boyish grin creasing his face. “Maybe I can talk you into giving me a ride in it sometime?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” They’d been talking and getting along okay, but that didn’t mean she was ready to hop in the car and start cruising around town with him again.
“Remember how we used to drive around town and down all those back country roads? We spent hours in my old truck.”
She remembered. Although she remembered more of the times they’d parked for hours.
Chevy Lassiter might have broken her heart, but he was a dang great kisser.
He studied her, almost as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. “You look good,” he said, reaching up to gently tug at one of her curls. “I like your hair longer like this. You look more grown up.”
She swallowed, her whole body warming at the softest touch of his hand as his fingers brushed her shoulder. She had been taking a little extra time to get ready in the morning, dusting on a little eye shadow and throwing her hair up into hot rollers and letting it set while she got dressed or adding a few twisted curls with her flat iron after she’d blow-dried it out.
She refused to admit she was taking the extra time with her appearance in case she ran into Chevy—but who was she kidding? Of course she was.
“That’s because I am a grown up,” she told him, pushing her shoulders back then yanking the car door open.
He dropped his gaze. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean anything. I just…it’s good to see you.” He lifted his head, catching her with a look that she couldn’t read. “Do you know how long you’re going to be in town?”
Her anger flared. She was mad at him for breaking up with her all those years ago and mad at herself for still caring. She narrowed her eyes. “Why? Are you dying to get rid of me already?”
Chevy shook his head, his expression sincere. “I just want to know how much time I have to try to get you to forgive me.”
She huffed out a sardonic laugh. “Not enough time in the world.”
She got into the car and forced herself not to look in the rearview mirror as she drove away.