Page 12 of Falling for the Guy Next Door

“And I have no doubt he would be instantly smitten, Em. Maybe you can reach out to him on social media, and introduce yourself and let him know he has your number on a napkin.” I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to be encouraging her, but I also knew my friend. She didn’t give up on dreams easily. It was both a good and bad quality. When we were in seventh grade, she was determined to become student council secretary, even though she was the definite underdog. She was running against Isabel Brooks, a cheerleader, who also happened to be the vice principal’s daughter. But Emily handed out flyers and free pencils with her name on them, and she made sure to talk to everyone. Isabel was far choosier and only talked to the people in her popular social circle. Emily won by fifty votes. In that instance, her persistence paid off. There’d been plenty of times when it didn’t, like when she was determined to land a leading role in the school play. She practiced the lines and dancing and singing for months, but in the end, she didn’t even get a small role. She was devastated.

“I’ve reached out to Nash many times on social media. To be honest, he doesn’t spend much time on there. The band has group social media accounts, but they’re mostly to announce upcoming shows and update fans on songs. I’ve got a better plan. Moonstone is playing at the bar again on Wednesday night. I’m going to show up there, and this time I’m sticking it out even if I pass out cold on the floor in front of the stage.”

“Not sure if that’s the most brilliant plan you’ve ever had.”

The pancakes arrived, and I was glad for the diversion. I had this feeling that Emily’s newest obsession was going to end badly, namely with her being heartbroken and me spending the next few weeks sitting with her in front of the television while she cried about not ending up with Nash Ledger. If only the band hadn’t come to town. It was always much better to have big dreams that you knew never had a chance of coming to fruition. The letdown was easier when you knew in the back of your mind the big dream was never going to happen.

For a few minutes we lost ourselves in our stacks of fluffy blueberry pancakes. “I was so caught up with the band on stage, I didn’t let you finish your story,” Emily said. “You said a cute guy helped you outside when Dustin followed you out of the bar.” She lowered her fork and furrowed her forehead. “Do you think Dustin is going to stalk you?”

I was relieved she quickly moved on from the first question, even though the second one was slightly alarming. I finished my bite. “No, he’ll be fine. I’m sure seeing him at the bar was a coincidence. I thought I gave him the slip, but he must have spotted me. He probably wanted to plead his case again. He seemed to think we just needed to talk it out and everything would be fine, but it’s over, it’s very over. He’ll come to that conclusion, too. I’m sure of it.”

We each took a few more bites, then Emily put down her fork. “Oh my gosh, too much whipped cream and maple syrup. Wait, you never finished your story. So, who was this knight in shining armor? Was he inside the bar? Did you get to talk to him again?”

I shook my head. “It was hardly a knight’s performance. It was nothing, and no, I didn’t talk to him again. So, what are you doing on your day off tomorrow? I was thinking I might go down to the beach, read a book, take a swim. I love working at the bakery with Isla, but it’s so exhausting, I find that I want to spend my time off just relaxing.”

“I’ll bet. And you have to get to work so early. The dress boutique is stressful, too, during the summer months, and working for the dragon lady doesn’t help. I promised my mom we’d go to lunch tomorrow. Will you come with me Wednesday night to see the band again?”

“I can’t, Em. If I’m not in bed by ten, I can’t focus at work. You’re on your own. I’ll have to hear all the details afterward.”

“Darn. Well, I guess that makes sense.” She picked up her fork. “Guess I don’t want these pancakes to go to waste, even though they’ll be going to my waist.” We both laughed at her little quip and dug our forks in.

ChapterEight

Nash

Islept late and woke to Rocky barking to go out. “Just a second, buddy.” The sun was already pushing past the curtains. I swung my feet off the bed. I picked up my phone and relaxed when I saw there were no new messages from Becky. The doctors had sent Mom home. She’d suffered bruising but, thankfully, no broken bones in her fall. Becky sounded exhausted and at the end of her tether when we talked. That was around midnight. We were resting before our final set, and Becky was just waiting for the doctor’s release order, so she could take Mom home for the night. If only someone would figure out a way to be in two places at once. Then I could be there for my mom and sister and still be out making money to support them. It was hard being stretched like this. I badly wanted to be there to lend a hand, but there wasn’t any way to make money in or around our small town, and the band gigs paid better than most jobs, so that meant traveling around the country.

I pulled on my swim trunks. There was no sense in living near the ocean and not taking a swim. The cove was a little too mellow for my liking. I preferred some waves for bodysurfing, but a quiet swim sounded good, too.

I headed across to the door. Rocky was twirling his tail like a helicopter blade. I opened the door, and he shot out. “Stay in the yard,” I called to him knowing full well he’d ignore that order. There was no fence around the beach house, so as far as Rocky was concerned, the entire cove was his playground.

My throat was always sore after a night on stage. Becky had come up with a warm tea, oat milk and whipped honey elixir, and I had to admit, it worked. It always tasted good, so it was an easier solution than gargling with salt water.

I brewed the tea, splashed in the milk and dropped in a spoon of honey. I carried the cup across to the window, so I could keep an eye on Rocky. He wasn’t in the yard. My gaze swept out to the beach below. A woman was swimming in the glassy water. She turned and floated on her back. I recognized the legs as the same ones I spotted sticking out from the beach chair yesterday afternoon. It was Rocky’s new friend.

I straightened as Rocky came into view. He was trotting happily across the beach, kicking up clumps of sand with his big paws. “Don’t do it,” I muttered. “Come on, buddy, don’t do it.” And then he did it. Rocky went bounding into the water toward his new friend. The dog was a pretty good swimmer, but he also never hesitated to latch on with his paws when the water was too deep for him to touch the ground. “No!” I yelled to an empty house. Rocky tossed a big paw at the woman who was relaxing on her back. She startled and sat up quickly, so quickly she sank beneath the surface before popping back up.

I put the cup down on the coffee table. The damage was done, but the least I could do was go down, call in my badly mannered mutt and apologize profusely. I raced out the door and down the sandy trail to the beach below. I expected to hear yelling or, at the very least, see her shooing Rocky away. Instead, laughter mingled with Rocky’s exuberant bark. The two of them were swimming side by side. I couldn’t tell who was having more fun, the woman or the dog. From my vantage point, I would have put my money on the woman.

I waded in, deciding it was time to meet my neighbor and to apologize belatedly for my dog. I whistled and Rocky immediately dog paddled in a circle to swim my direction. The woman noticed her swimming partner had disappeared. She stopped and turned around, treading water as she stared at me.

“Sorry about his manners,” I called to her.

“I don’t mind at …” Her words fell off. She tilted her head, then her lips parted in surprise. “It’s you,” she said and then swam toward me.

I hadn’t noticed the color of her hair because it was wet and slicked back, but as she swam closer, I recognized her face. It wasn’t one you would ever forget.

“It’s you,” I said back to her as she emerged from the water. She was wearing a pale green one-piece swimsuit cut high on the thighs. A breath caught in my chest. She was incredible.

Rocky was pleased to have his friend back. He immediately rubbed his face against her leg. She laughed and ruffled the hair on his head. It stood straight up in spikes.

I had never had a problem talking to women, but suddenly, I was tongue-tied. She’d overwhelmed all my senses, and I couldn’t find words.

She smiled at the awkward pause and confidently stuck out her hand. “I suppose I should have introduced myself last night since I used you so brazenly outside the club. I’m Layla.”

Rocky barked, and at the risk of being both upstaged and humiliated by my much smoother, cooler wingman, I finally spoke. “Nash Ledger and, like I said last night, it was my pleasure.”

She smoothed her wet hair back. It was shiny under the late morning sun. “I know who you are … now. Admittedly, when I asked you to be my human shield, I had no idea. But my best friend, Emily, filled me in on some of the details on the way to Comstock Bar last night.” She squinted one eye. “Texas boy who works construction when he’s not strumming a guitar or making the women lightheaded with his voice. When you said your name was Mr. Nash?—”

---