Page 53 of Saved By the Boss

There’s no ignoring his good looks, no matter how hard I try to push the thoughts away. The man is tall, broad-shouldered, and sharp-featured, with green eyes that seem to see right through me. Even though we’ve encountered each other before, today was the first time I actually took notice of him and really saw him. He possibly awakened something in me that I never had the mental space to even consider.

I lean against the counter, pretending to straighten the stack of receipts by the cash register while my mind drifts. Declan’s so different from anyone I’ve met since moving here. Most of the men in this town are loud and brash, filling every silence with chatter or laughter. They’re overly friendly to the point of sometimes appearing flirty, despite their wives or girlfriends always being in tow. Declan, on the other hand, seems content to let the quiet sit between words. He doesn’t fill space, he claims it, like it’s his right. He’s unobtrusive, but still quietly commanding attention.

This was never the plan. I’d hoped to just fade into obscurity here, to keep my head down and not get too involved with anyone. After all, I never know when I might have to pack up and run again. I hope I never do, but I can’t rely on that certainty. There are people from my past who are probably still looking for me, hoping to catch me off guard. There’s no mental space for me to have a crush.

That’s exactly what’s happening, though. In the handful of hours since we were introduced, I’ve developed a bona fide romantic liking to Declan. It’s so stupid and childish, but it’s undeniable. Just the idea of seeing him tomorrow morning sends a thrillthrough me, exciting me like a girl in kindergarten waiting for recess to see her crush.

I let out a quiet groan, forcing myself to focus on the register. This is ridiculous. I don’t know him. He’s just some guy who came in for supplies. He’s probably forgotten about me already, and here I am, acting like a lovesick teenager. I’m better than this. I have to be.

The bell above the door jingles, and I look up automatically. It’s a woman from across town, bundled in a heavy coat with her scarf pulled up over her nose. I nod politely to acknowledge her as she heads toward the back of the store, but my thoughts are already drifting again.

As I watch her go, I have a flicker of memory, remembering a brief encounter from a few months ago. Declan, though I didn’t know his name at the time, had come into the store then too, but I barely paid attention at the time. I wasn’t ready to notice anyone back then, especially someone so attractive. My walls were still too high, my focus too sharp on survival. But now, the memory surfaces with a clarity I didn’t expect.

He’d been quiet that day too, speaking only when necessary, his movements deliberate as he gathered what he needed. He’d given me a polite nod when I passed him in the aisle. But then he’d asked my opinion on a chainsaw, startling me.

I’d only been working at the store for a short time, and I didn’t have much of an opinion on any of our products. Usually, I would get Ron to chime in, but he was out running the bank deposit, and I was stuck.

I didn’t want to be rude, so I simply said, “My rule of thumb is to pick the cheapest product with the best features. No need to payextra just because its name brand.”

He’d laughed at that, and I’d felt silly. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and hope he’d pick out his saw and check out quickly.

“That’s a good philosophy,” he responded then, putting me slightly at ease. “Maybe we put too much weight on names.”

I agreed with him, though it seemed like he was thinking of more than just the name brands of products. I didn’t understand it then, I still don’t honestly, but there was a sadness to his words, a heaviness.

He’d taken my advice, though, and bought a mid-range saw. He told me he liked that I didn’t try to upsell him, and made a joke that I must not work on commission. After that, he’d left, the encounter almost wholly unremarkable, apart from my brief embarrassment.

But maybe I’ve changed. Maybe the part of me that’s been locked up tight for so long is starting to thaw, just a little. It’s a terrifying thought I don’t know how to handle. I can’t risk letting anyone into my life and can’t risk letting anyone else get hurt for my decisions. It’s a lose-lose for everyone.

“Jade?” Ron’s voice pulls me back to the hum of the store, and I blink, realizing I’ve been standing there staring at the same spot on the counter for who knows how long.

“Yeah?” I say, glancing over at him.

“I’m heading out for the day,” he says, pulling on his coat. “You okay to close up?”

“Of course,” I reply, giving him a small smile. “Go on. I’ve got it covered.”

He nods, tipping his hat before heading out the door. In the last few weeks, he’s been trusting me with more responsibility, satisfied that he’s trained me well enough to manage on my own. The store feels even quieter without him, though, and I always wish he’d stay, if only so I’d have some company. The faint sound of the wind outside is the only thing breaking the silence, now that the early rush of customers has died down. I glance at the clock. Another hour until my shift ends.

When I finally lock up, the cold hits me like a slap to the face. The wind has picked up, and the snow is falling more earnestly than it did this morning. The storm isn’t supposed to hit full force until the day after tomorrow, but it’s clear it’s not going to wait long to make its presence known.

I make my way to the diner, my usual after-work routine. My car’s been in and out of the shop for several weeks, so Tawny’s graciously been taking me up the mountain. Times like this, I really miss living right above the store, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I can’t wait to get back to my little slice of paradise and start prepping for the storm.

The diner is almost empty when I walk in, the usual hum of voices replaced by the faint clatter of dishes and the low murmur of the radio. Tawny is behind the counter, wiping it down with a rag, her blonde ponytail swinging as she moves. She looks up as the door swings shut behind me, her face lighting up in a grin.

“Hey, stranger,” she calls. “The usual?”

“I don’t know, maybe I should look at the menu,” I tease, knowing there isn’t a single thing on the menu I haven’t tried at least once. I’ve basically got the thing memorized by now.

“So, a house salad with chicken?” she chides, calling out my usual order.

“Actually, a bowl of chili sounds nice,” I tell her sincerely. “I could use some comfort food.”

She raises an eyebrow, tossing the rag over her shoulder. “Spill,” she commands, knowing I don’t often ask for comfort food.

I hesitate, glancing around the empty diner. There’s no one within earshot, just a couple of regulars sitting in a booth near the window, their attention focused on their coffees. Still, I lower my voice.

“It’s so stupid.” I blush, struggling to even admit this to my closest friend. “I’ve just been thinking about that guy Declan all day.”

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