Page 6 of Between the Shady Groves
In hindsight, maybe he should have been more open to the idea. It probably meant something to her.
Still, they could work it out. He got in his truck and pointed it south.
Five
“Knock, knock,” a male voice said, lifting Lauren out of her deep thoughts as she sat at a table, her untouched Nutella banana bread in front of her. The scent had been all she needed. It smelled like her mom and home and safety and love and comfort and everything she didn’t have in her marriage or her life right now. She just wanted to sit at the table, lost in her memories, soaking in the scent.
But her head turned toward the door. This wasn’t someone she recognized at all.
It was a man, about her age, maybe slightly older, but still mid-thirties. He had a short, military-type haircut and a couple of days’ growth of beard on his face, but it didn’t hide the square jaw that jutted out under intelligent, inquisitive, and aware blue eyes. Those eyes scanned the bakery as though he were scoping out a sniper nest in Afghanistan or some other war-torn country. He walked with that smooth, catlike grace that reminded her of military too.
His clothes didn’t really say much, other than casual, with worn blue jeans that looked like they were older than she was and a T-shirt that fit snugly around a chest that spent a lot of time in the weight room.
She blinked. She hadn’t realized there were actual men like thiswalking the streets. She thought they were only found in romance novels.
“Hello?” she said, and then she shook her head. “I’m not actually open. I’m sorry if the smell drew you in.”
“It did. You must be piping scent into the outdoors or something, because I was taking my daily walk to the beach, and…I kind of felt a little bit like the children following the Pied Piper. There wasn’t anything I could do but turn in here.”
He was charming too. With a dimple she could see through the scruff when he smiled. Straight white teeth. An easygoing way about him, despite the awareness in his eyes.
This was a man she should feel safe with.
Of course, she felt safe with her husband too. He just…wasn’t that interested in her.
“I’m sorry. I guess the least I can do is offer you a loaf to take with you.” She stood, knowing she had one entire loaf that she hadn’t cut, and she definitely wasn’t going to eat it before it spoiled. She hadn’t even taken a bite of the first one. Although she could tell that it would taste really good. She had cooked it to perfection, just like her mom and just like she expected of herself.
“You aren’t going to have to twist my arm in order to get me to take it. But I’m opening a bookstore next door, and in return, I can offer you one free book. You look like…a thriller reader.”
She laughed. “Good guess. Considering that thrillers are the number one seller in America. But no. I’m more romance, or maybe women’s fiction.” She had never been able to get into thrillers. They were too scary, and after reading them, she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t understand how others could read that kind of stuff and still live with themselves.
“Romance was my next guess. Mostly because it’s the number two genre in the US. You’re right. I was playing averages.”
She nodded. “I figured.”
She had gone behind the counter, leaving it open, but he didn’t follow her. She didn’t really expect him to. Customers never did. It was just the people who were familiar, close, friends.
“Give me a second, I’ll wrap this up for you.” She used a knife togently cut around the banana bread pan, loosening it from the sides, and then she turned it upside down on top of the freshly cleaned counter.
It came out perfectly. Then she grabbed some plastic wrap from the drawer. It was right where it was supposed to be, like it had been just yesterday that her mom had closed the shop and gone with her back to Cincinnati.
She remembered that day like it was yesterday, but it had been almost five years ago.
“Boy, after this I might owe you two books.”
“You don’t really look like a bookseller to me,” she said casually, wondering what a guy like that was doing opening a bookstore.
“My uncle owned the gaming store. I don’t know if you grew up in this town, but you might remember it.”
“Yeah. It was video games, TVs, and radios. I remember it well.” It was a little outdated even when she had been young, but Butch Connolly, the guy who owned it, had made it work.
“Yeah. I guess it was an electronics store or something. I wasn’t here much. But he left it to me in his will.”
“And you’re not an electronics guy? Somehow I have trouble believing that.” She looked him over again. He definitely looked like he knew how to wiretap telephones and use all kinds of specialized communication hardware.
“I used to be. But gaming is addictive to me, and I better not own a store with games in it. I would end up spending all my time playing and not selling. Books are safer.” He winked at her.
Was he flirting? She wasn’t quite sure. She was in her mid-thirties and hadn’t thought about flirting for more than a decade. She ignored it. It was better to assume he wasn’t. Maybe he had something in his eye.
