Page 5 of Jack of All Trades
"Wouldn't dream of it," he replies, touching the brim of his hat in a gesture that shouldn't be charming but somehow is.
I start the engine and pull out of the parking lot, determinedly not checking my rearview mirror to see if he's watching me leave. Because I don't care if he is. Not at all.
The drive to Rex's apartment takes less than ten minutes in a town as small as Pine Haven. I use the time to mentally reorganize my defenses, which somehow got jumbled during my meeting with Jack.
I've only been in Pine Haven for three days, and already this town is getting under my skin. It's exactly as Rex described it—picturesque, tight-knit, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone else's business. The kind of place I've been considering moving to, though I haven't told Rex that yet.
My life in Seattle feels increasingly empty. My job at a corporate daycare is fulfilling but isolated. I love the children but barely know my coworkers. My apartment is just a place to sleep. And with Rex being my only family, Pine Haven has started to look more and more appealing.
I pull up to Rex's apartment building. A converted warehouse that looks exactly like the kind of place a biker would live, and take a deep breath. I need to focus on why I'm really here: to celebrate my brother's birthday and to quietly investigate whether Pine Haven could be my fresh start.
Jack Morrison and his dimpled smile are just a complication I need to manage.
As I climb the stairs to Rex's second-floor apartment, I steel myself. No more thinking about cowboys with kind eyes anddisarming honesty. No more wondering what Jack meant by "the real story." No more noticing the way his voice gets softer when he talks about his family.
I have a party to plan, a brother to surprise, and a future to figure out. Everything else is just noise.
I knock on Rex's door, forcing a smile. When my brother opens it, tattooed arms crossed over his chest and a suspicious look on his face, I hold up the single bag of groceries I hastily purchased before going to the Rusty Nail.
"Sorry I'm late," I say cheerfully. "The store was busy."
Rex's eyes narrow. "You've been gone almost two hours."
I push past him into the apartment. "I got lost."
"In Pine Haven?" He sounds skeptical.
"I'm directionally challenged," I reply, setting the groceries on his counter. "What do you want for dinner?"
Rex looks at me for a moment longer, then apparently decides to let it go. "Whatever you're making. You know I'll eat anything."
That's true. Growing up the way we did, neither of us is picky. When you don't know where your next meal is coming from, you learn to be grateful for whatever's available.
As I unpack the groceries, Rex leans against the counter, watching me. "So, what do you think of Pine Haven so far?"
I keep my expression neutral. "It's nice. Quiet."
"Too quiet for you?" he asks. "After Seattle?"
"Not necessarily." I focus on arranging tomatoes in a bowl, avoiding his gaze. "I like that people say hello on the street. That doesn't happen in the city."
Rex grunts in agreement. "You should meet some of my friends while you're here. Get to know the place better."
"I'm only staying for two weeks," I remind him, though the lie feels heavy on my tongue. If things go well, if Pine Haven feels right, I might be staying much longer. But I'm not ready to share that plan yet, not until I'm sure.
"Two weeks is plenty of time to decide if you like it here," Rex says, with an intuition that has always been uncanny.
I look up sharply. "What do you mean?"
He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing. Just making conversation."
But his eyes tell a different story. My brother knows me too well.
I turn back to the groceries, unpacking a package of pasta. "I met your friend Jack today," I say, changing the subject.
Rex's eyebrows shoot up. "Jack Morrison? When? Where?"
"At that coffee shop on Main," I lie smoothly. "He recognized me somehow. Said I look like you."
