Page 10 of July's Bad Boy: Blaze

"Mmm," she hums, unconvinced. "Well, while you're passing through, would you mind taking a look at my porch step? It's got a wobble that's going to send me sprawling one of these days."

Twenty minutes later, I've fixed the step and accepted a still-warm apple hand pie as payment. The taste is exactly as I remember--tart and sweet and somehow like childhood itself.

Grace is quiet as we drive back to town, the day's light fading into dusk.

"Thanks," she finally says. "Having an extra pair of hands made a difference today."

"I'm shocked. An actual compliment."

"Don't get used to it." But there's that hint of a smile again.

We pull up to the Merc, and I find myself reluctant to end the day. As Grace starts unloading the empty containers, I notice the truck's taillight is cracked and held together with tape.

"Your left taillight's about to give out," I point out. "And that tape job won't pass inspection."

"Add it to the list of things that need fixing," she sighs.

"I could take a look at it," I offer, surprising myself. "I know my way around engines. Tour buses break down in the middle of nowhere more often than you'd think."

Grace studies me, suspicious of this voluntary offer. "Why would you bother?"

"Consider it payment for the tour of Mustang Mountain's shut-ins."

She hesitates, then nods. "If you're serious about helping, show up tomorrow. On time."

"I make no promises about the 'on time' part," I say, "but I'll be here."

On my way back to Shane's place, I realize something strange. For the first time since I got here, I wasn't thinking about when I could leave. I was thinking about when I could see her again.

CHAPTER 4

GRACE

"Grace, honey, you're going to wear a hole in my floorboards," Ruby says, appearing behind the counter with her third cup of coffee. Her silver hair is twisted into an immaculate bun, but the dark circles under her eyes tell the real story.

"Just making sure we have enough to distribute today." I tick items off my clipboard. "Canned goods are getting low. We should start rationing the coffee."

Ruby clutches her mug to her chest. "Let's not get drastic."

Orville emerges from the stockroom, dust clinging to his clothes. "Found another case of condensed milk. Expiration date's a bit questionable, but--"

"We'll take it," I say, adding it to my list.

The bell above the door jingles as Emerson walks in.

"Morning, Emerson," Ruby calls. "What can we get you?"

"Just checking if you got in any more of those cookies ." Emerson leans on the counter. "And wondering if that city boy is still helping out."

I pretend to be very interested in my inventory list.

"Blaze? He's been a godsend," Ruby says. "Fixed our air conditioning unit yesterday and wouldn't take a dime for it."

"Hmm." Emerson's mouth puckers like she's sucking a lemon. "Bear says he's just putting on a show. Says a man who leaves like he did doesn't change his spots."

"Well, Bear hasn't changed his underwear since 1997," Orville mutters, earning a swat from Ruby.

I shouldn't care what people think of Blaze. It's not like I'm his PR manager. But something in my chest tightens every time his name comes up, which is approximately every seven minutes in this town.

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