Page 2 of A Lonely Road
“Well, Nora Cassidy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Jenkins asked me to keep an eye out for you, so if you need anything, just give a holler.”
With a tight smile, I pulled my hand back. His skin was rough but warm, his grip strong and sure. I reminded myself that part of avoiding undue attention in this town was fitting in, and fitting in meant not making a spectacle of myself over a silly handshake.
Even if my new landlord had implied to this handsome stranger that I was some helpless damsel who needed looking after.
My jaw clenched, and I had to force the muscles to relax.
“I hope you like the apartment,” he said, his tone friendly and casual. “Mr. Jenkins had me renovate the place about a year back as a graduation gift for his grandson, but the kid ended up moving out to California with his girlfriend. It’s been vacant all along. Seemed like a waste of such a great space, all that light coming in.”
“I haven’t been inside yet,” I replied, shifting the bag on my shoulder as my face heated.Real smooth, Cassidy.
“Right, of course.” Jake glanced from me to the car. “Do you need help unloading? You can pull into the driveway, Mr. Jenkins won’t mind.”
“No, no,” I protested with a forced smile. “I’ve got it. There isn’t much. Nice meeting you, though.”
Before I turned away, I saw his golden brows draw down. Maybe he thought his vow to look out for the little lady next door would be broken if he didn’t help me haul my crap inside. He said nothing, however, just moved back a few steps so his feet were on his own driveway by the time I glanced down from the landing.
I nabbed the key from beneath some kind of potted fern—hopefully fake, because I had yet to meet a plant I couldn’t kill simply by trying to keep it alive—just outside the door and heaved myself inside. With a loud exhalation, I leaned back against the door and looked at my new home.
The furnished apartment was far more spacious than I’d imagined, airy and well-appointed, with plenty of windows to let in light all through the day. Even though the kitchen was small by most people’s standards, it was a definite step up from the places I’d lived in before, with glossy countertops and shiny new appliances. Everything looked fresh and bright, like it had simply been waiting for me all along.
Jake the Neighbor had clearly done an amazing job on renovations.
Cute and capable,I thought as I surveyed my surroundings. The walls were a pale gray, the windows sporting sheer linen curtains that shimmered in the sun. I set my laptop bag on the low coffee table and wheeled my suitcase into the bedroom, which was moderately sized and done up in impersonal butattractive decor all in shades of mint and baby blue. On one wall hung a large, slightly abstract painting of a lighthouse in darker tones of the same colors.
Leaving the suitcase by the closet—which had enough room for ten times more clothing than I possessed—I wandered back through the living room, letting the quiet settle me.
Before leaving to fetch the single cardboard box of foreign language dictionaries and translation guides that I’d left in the trunk, I peeked through the curtains covering the glass portion of the door. Jake was still there, back under the hood of his truck, and I steeled myself with a deep breath before opening the door.
The staircase leading down one side of the garage was sturdy and freshly painted, each solid step beneath my feet providing me with another ounce of confidence.
Jake’s curly head lifted as I reached the driveway. “What’s the verdict? You like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” I replied without thinking, then my face heated. “I mean, it’s very well done. Much nicer than I imagined. You’re right, it does get great light. I wasn’t expecting that.”
His friendly smile widened at my rambling praise, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m just glad someone is finally around to appreciate it. My sister is a realtor, so I called her in for most of the decorating. She loves that stuff, wanted to turn it into a private little oasis.”
“It’s all lovely, thank you. Both of you.” I took a single step toward my car and his dimple deepened.
“And you don’t have to worry about anyone popping by unexpectedly,” he went on, like he hadn’t noticed my eagerness to flee even though I was dead sure he had.
“Oh. Okay.”Nora Cassidy, what the hell is wrong with you?
“We’re pretty friendly here in Spruce Hill, but most of the people on this street are young couples and families, not part of the drop-by-with-a-pie-for-the-new-neighbor generation. Mr. Jenkins was the only one who showed up when I moved in a few years ago, armed with cookies from the grocery store.”
“Right. That’s good to know.” Floundering for a way to bring the awkward conversation to a close, I said, “Well, I should go. I need to pick up some groceries, get settled in.”
Jake leaned one hip against the front of the truck, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that blatantly flaunted the ridiculously firm muscles under his tee. “How exactly were you planning to get to the grocery store after your car stalled?”
Before I could prevent it, I scowled at him. “Baby just needed a rest. Her battery isn’t what it used to be.”
“Baby,” he repeated, the corners of his lips twitching. “I thinkBabyneeds a little more than rest, Nora. I’d be happy to help.”
My shoulders straightened as I said, “Thank you, but I’ll be fine on my own.”
“I have no doubt aboutthat,” he replied.
Those pretty blue eyes of his danced with humor in a way that both enchanted and annoyed me. Just when I started to stalk toward my car, however, he dangled a carrot that I couldn’t refuse.
