Page 15 of Kissing Her Rescuer

“There's nothing to hash out, but I didn't mean to hurt her feelings.”

“Try again some other time to explain. With my mom, your mom, Ms. Tanya? If you don't want this getting back to Cameron, then you need to just back off.”

“Screw Cameron.” Dewey crossed his arms. “Wait, do you have something against Eliza and me?” The idea he'd avoided since she'd come back to Statem had squeezed its way into his forethought. Dating Eliza.

The timer beeped, and Nash turned it off, grabbing the potholders and pulling the baked chicken from the oven. “She's like our little sister.”

“She's not my little sister.” Not since the summer after she turned seventeen and started hanging around more. He'd avoided Eliza her entire senior year in high school, the few conversations they’d had alone turned into close calls with keeping his distance. But the moment he’d planned to make a move, she skipped town with the shithead to Alabama.

Ms. Peggy came into the kitchen. “Alright, who upset Eliza?”

Dewey leaned to the side, looking into the living room and seeing Eliza smiling and chatting with his mom. “She doesn't look upset,” he said, hoping to pull off his bluff.

“I can tell when a man has pissed off a woman. Those other two out there can tell, also. Since you were the one with your arms wrapped around her, why don't you talk first?”

“There's nothing to say.”

Ms. Peggy put her hands on her hips. “Wrong answer. I don't respect liars.”

“You have the best poker face in Georgia.”

She didn't buy the compliment and crossed her arms.

“Fine. She overheard me talking to Nash and probably misheard what I was saying. It made her mad. I tried to explain, and she told me to shut up.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Is there something going on between you two?”

“No!” Dewey shook his head, a headache already starting to pound. A woman, who didn't want him anyway, who'd already rejected him, is upset that he didn't want her, even though he had a hard, damn time keeping his hands to himself. “I'm gone.”

He left, rudely ignoring his mom and Ms. Tanya's calls, Eliza’s quiet presence. He slammed his truck door harder than necessary, wincing and waiting for the old thing to fall off. The car was older than he was. He drove to his house a few miles away.

Not the best house in the world. Well, not a house at all. A single-wide trailer that his grandmother had left him. It suited its purpose. A dry place to sleep. Running water. Cool in the summer and warm in the winter. He'd started saving money right out of high school, planning on building a house on the property overlooking the small pond on his back forty. But after Eliza's rejection, life had stopped. And until now, he didn't even realize it.

He'd gone on a few dates, enjoying the company of the women as friends more than any type of real chemistry. Inevitably, they all fizzled out. So, he did nothing. Didn't buy a new truck. Didn't build a new house. Simply saved his money and worked for more. Hard work that kept his mind free of the distraction of being alone.

And now, with Eliza back and tearing his world apart again, he realized how stagnant everything had become. What if she hadn't come back? How long until his unconscious mind would have given up the dream and moved on?

Sitting in his truck, he pulled out his phone, typing a text to Eliza before he chickened out.

You don't have to respond, but just know that what you heard was my sarcastic response to Nash asking about what happened in the hallway. You're not a complication, and you know I adore Carrie. Friends?

The “friends” part was a joke. He'd never be friends with Eliza, but they could be polite to each other. Maybe interact without walking on eggshells. Someday, he could get past the obsession he had for her and really be the friend she needed.

With a few hours of daylight left, he climbed into the tractor. He spent so much time working for Nash or at the Sheriff's department, he hardly had time to keep his yard cut.

An hour later, with darkness making it difficult to see the rows he'd already mowed, he stopped the tractor and walked to his house for another shower. He checked his phone.

This is hard for me, too.

What was hard? Keeping away or being friends? He stood in the dark field, the clouds too thick to show the moon as he stared at the illuminated cell phone screen. She texted again.

Can we just act normal from now on? Just be yourself. I miss that.

Normal. If he let his guard down, then the moment in the hallway would have really embarrassed his mother. Would he be any worse off if he did make a move, and she rejected him? It's not like she could hurt his heart again. That would never happen.

O.K.

Normal for him might not be what she expected, but she'd get what she asked for. And he'd finally get what he wanted.

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