Page 19 of Ask for Moore

I felt Waverly slump next to me, but I wasn’t sure if it was because she was as disappointed to have been interrupted before we had the chance to kiss as I was, or if she was relieved that we were about to be rescued.

“I guess I was wrong about how long it would take someone to get here.”

The lights blinked on, and the car jolted. Waverly let out a little yelp of alarm, her grip on my hand tightening. Then our gazes met, and her eyes went wide. Pulling her hand away, she pressed her palm on the floor to push onto her knees. “Sorry.”

“No worries, Waverly. I was as startled as you were,” I reassured her with a smile. “Even though the cavalry had arrived, I wasn’t expecting them to get the elevator back in working order quite so quickly.”

“Yeah.” A lock of hair fell onto her face, and she huffed out a breath.

“Here, let me help you up.” I scrambled to my feet and reached my hand out to wrap my fingers around her elbow. Remembering what she’d said about the difficulties of sitting on the floor in her skirt, I averted my gaze as I helped her stand. Then I grabbed her purse and briefcase and gave them to her. As I reached down for my briefcase, the elevator started to move. By the time I straightened to my full height, the doors began to slide open.

A small crowd was gathered in the courthouse lobby, waiting to gawk at us as we exited the elevator. While the paramedics checked to make sure we were okay and the excitement was over, everyone wandered away. Then it was just the two of us again.

“Thank you for distracting me.” Waverly gave me a quick hug, her cheeks tinged pink when she stepped back. “If I had to be stuck in a dark elevator, I couldn’t have asked for better company.”

I stared as she turned and walked away, disconcerted by the events of the past hour. Any possibility of Waverly living up to her nickname died in that elevator. I had no doubt she had her reasons—and good ones at that—for keeping her peers at arm’s length. The depth of her vulnerability couldn’t be faked…and I wanted to be one of the people who earned enough trust for her to let behind that wall.

10

Waverly

Nobody except Julie had stopped by the carriage house during the two weeks and two days I had been in Mooreville, so I assumed she was at the door when there was a loud knock. Setting aside the book I was reading—the thriller I had bought on my first day in town—I got up and crossed the living room. Flinging the door open, my greeting died on my lips when I found a young guy there instead. “Hello.”

“Waverly Duncan?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“You’ve been served.” He handed me two pieces of paper stapled together that had been folded in the middle.

I flipped them open and shook my head when I saw that it was the request for additional time I had been expecting the commission’s lawyer to file. “Thanks for delivering my client’s copy.”

“My pleasure.” His grin widened. “Sorry if that was overkill. I don’t get many opportunities to drop off legal documents since I mostly do food delivery.”

“Food delivery?” I echoed, tilting my head to the side while I pursed my lips.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, at least half of the time, if you order off any of the take-out apps, I’m the one who’ll handle your order. There aren’t that many drivers in Mooreville.”

I blinked several times as I tried to process his explanation. At home, we used a legal courier service whenever we needed paperwork to be brought to the courthouse, copies provided to another firm, or someone to be served. Their court runners were fast, experienced, and professional. But in Mooreville, the options were apparently limited so much that they resorted to using the take-out delivery guy. “Ah, I see.”

Turning to head toward the front of the property, he rattled off the app options if I wanted to order anything to my room while I was here. Although I had eaten a hearty breakfast at the main house that morning and had snacked my way through the rest of the day, my stomach rumbled at the mention of food. With more downtime than I was used to having, I’d been eating more than usual and had probably gained at least five pounds. But that didn’t stop me from sliding on a pair of shoes and grabbing my purse so I could head to the main drag in search of dinner.

I parked in front of Leaves & Pages more out of habit than anything else. Grabbing my purse, I climbed out of the rental car and beeped the locks.

“Good evening, Miss Duncan.”

Walking toward the sidewalk, I flashed a smile at the older gentleman sitting on the bench outside the shop. The first time he called out to me, on my third day in town and my second visit to Leaves & Pages, I was stunned that he knew my name. As I walked through the door, I kept glancing over my shoulder to look at him, wondering if I had met him before. Skylar—although I hadn’t known that was who she was at the time—had explained that word about me had spread like wildfire through town.

I still didn’t understand why he and other Mooreville residents were so polite whenever I saw them. Not when I was only here to help Burkhart Development sue so many of the locals. I ultimately chalked it up to small-town, Midwestern hospitality, and now I’d grown so used to their kindness that I wondered if I would miss it when I returned to Chicago.

I gave him a little wave and headed down the block in a direction I hadn’t explored yet. Doing some window shopping, I stopped to take in the spring displays as I wondered how far into the season I’d still be in town. With an extra thirty days tacked onto the timeline for the response in the complaint against the planning commission, it looked as though my stay was going to be longer than I anticipated.

I wasn’t upset, though. Even with the slower pace—which had taken some getting used to—I was starting to get comfortable in Mooreville. And I didn’t have to worry about my smaller caseload working against me with the firm because Mr. Arnoult had reiterated just yesterday how important it was for me to impress my client. The lure of all of Burkhart Development’s extra billable hours had made the named partner quite agreeable.

My lips curved into a pleased grin at the thought of how my trip was turning out to be profitable for me as well. Without being home, my utility bills were bound to drop, and the per diem I received more than covered the cost of my meals each day. A couple of extra hundred dollars wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it would put me that much closer to paying off my school loans, a goal I’d been religiously working toward since the day after I graduated.

“You look happy.”

My head jerked toward the familiar, deep voice, and I found Ryland standing on the sidewalk a few feet to my left. I hadn’t realized I had wandered so close to his office building. “Hello.”

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