Page 39 of Wildly Inappropriate

“Not something I thought I would need for this trip.”

“Let’s check out the rest of the house before we head into town,” I suggest.

The room Jameson has been using for storage looks a lot like mine, though the window that broke was slightly smaller. Jameson’s room is on the same side of the house as JT’s, so it’s fine. Neither of us mentions the fact that I could sleep there.

Instead, we head outside, and I groan at what I see. My poor car is totaled. The front windshield was facing directly south, and it’s now completely shattered. The body looks like a golf ball, it’s so covered in dents.

JT’s pickup, luckily, is better off, and by that I mean it’s covered in divots from the hail, but no glass appears to be broken.

“I guess I’ll drive, then?” he says.

“You don’t want to ride in mine? Everyone loves the wind in their face.”

“I’m just not a huge fan of glass in my ass.”

“Weird. I thought for sure that’d be one of your kinks.”

“Jesus, Lila. That…nope. Not even going to think about it.”

“Let me just take a few pictures so I can submit an insurance claim, and then we can go.”

We both snap a variety of pictures of our vehicles, capturing the destruction from all different angles. I take longer than JT, and while he waits, he walks around the house, commenting on the damaged siding, the broken fake logs in the firepit, and the bent gutters.

“Ready?” he asks when he gets back around to the vehicles.

“Yup. Let’s go board up some old people’s windows,” I say, looking forward to having something to do to put things back together.

Chapter nineteen

JT

The smell of coffeeand breakfast sandwiches mingles with the low hum of chatter in the coffee shop. The place is packed, with people crowding together, bundled up against the morning chill. It feels like half the town has shown up, all bleary-eyed and yawning, but ready to get to work. I take in the scene—the familiar faces, others I’ve only seen in passing—and it hits me that everyone here is up this early just to lend a hand. There’s a loyalty in Wild Bluffs I’m not used to seeing in the city.

Lila hands me my coffee, her fingers brushing against mine, and gives me a quick grin. “Ready for a day of cleaning and construction, Pretty Boy?”

I smirk, taking a sip. “If you can handle it, Pipsqueak, I’m sure I can. Though I’d like to get some food into me first.”

We find a spot near the door, and I dig into my egg sandwich. The Harpers show up a few minutes later, Ken giving me a nod before he heads to talk to a group of men. Kelsey and Izzy both make their way to us, their mom pulling both Lila and me into hugs.

The organizer calls out assignments, sending us off in groups to places around town that got hit hardest by last night’s storm. Lila and I get paired with the Harpers and a few other families and head to Sunshine Hills, the local nursing home.

When we pull up, there’s already a small crowd gathered outside, families pulling toolboxes out of their cars, everyone ready to pitch in. I recognize a few of the faces from around town—a lady who is at the coffee shop with Janice most days and one of the waiters from the country club. Mr. and Mrs. Abbott, the couple who run the local hardware store, are unloading supplies from the back of their truck.

Lila ties her hair back, the same focused look in her eyes that I’ve seen a hundred times when she’s set on something. I’m half tempted to make a comment that I know will rile her up, but the whole scene has me feeling too…comfortable.

Ken walks over, offering me a red-handled hammer. “Think you’re up for a bit of work today, JT?”

I chuckle, grabbing the hammer. “I think I can handle it, Mr. Harper. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The first task is boarding up broken windows, and Lila, predictably, is quick to remind me that I’d better be careful not to hurt my back trying to reach the high windows. I pretend not to notice the challenge in her smirk and grab a piece of plywood, hauling it up with Ken’s help. Lila snaps a picture of us as we press the board into place. I stick my tongue out at her, and she mouthsfocusback at me, rolling her eyes.

As I work alongside Ken and the Harpers, the conversation flows easily, and we swap stories about the tornado that hit the next town over a few years back, last year’s fishing trip disaster, and—of course—the sports teams this year and how they are going to fare. At one point I realized they were discussing the high school team’s volleyball record from twenty years ago and quickly let my mind wander again, my eyes following Lila as she hands out water bottles to the group.

“You know,” Kelsey says, squinting at me as Ken and I line up the next board, “I was pretty surprised to see you here to help, JT. I thought you mentioned you’re a big-city guy through and through. Pitching in to clean up the town is definitely a small-town thing to do.”

I shake my head, but there’s something in me that wants to agree. “Maybe. It’s not like this in the city—everyone just minds their own business there.”

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