Page 43 of New River Gorge(ous)
My mind glitches. She’s here for a while. Of course she should find a job. Maybe a job she loves so much she’ll stay forever.
“Tourist season is winding down, but maybe Logan will know something,” I suggest. “Or maybe Ben?”
“Would you ask? I need something to do.” Her fingers grip the side of my car over the window, and she looks conspiratorially from side to side. “I’m losing my mind.”
“I would have thought that taking care of June was a full-time job,” I drawl.
Brooke beams at my joke as she tucks the one pink strand of hair that always seems to be escaping from her ponytail behind her ear. The woman actually understands my humor.
“It can be, but we both need a little space. She’s used to her quiet time, and by quiet time, I mean time to watch her soap opera shows without me around.”
“I thought her favorite show wasBeverly Hillbillies.”
“Oh, it is,” Brooke says as she absentmindedly fingers the ponytail resting over her shoulder. “But I like that one too, so she doesn’t have to watch it alone.”
“Is that why you’re always on the porch swing?” I ask.
She flushes a light pink in return. “No…” She doesn’t look me in the eye. “I just like the porch swing. Nice…scenery out here and all.”
The way she doesn’t meet my gaze directly makes me think that maybe she’s on the swing because she’s looking for me. Athrill works its way up my heart, and never mind the fact that it’s eight in the morning and I’m exhausted after a long shift.
I turn the truck off. “I can help you look for something now, if you’d like.”
Brooke’s smile seems to have the same effect on me as straight caffeine. My heart beats a little faster, and suddenly, I’m wide awake.
Brooke steps back as I open the door and start walking to June’s porch along with her.
“So what do you want to do?” I ask.
Her brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“What sort of job do you want? What things do you like to do?”
“Oh,” she breathes. “I enjoy painting, but that’s not really something I want to do for money, and also, I don’t know, just something fun where I can be around people a few hours a week.”
By now, we’ve reached June’s porch swing, the white paint on the slats chipping a little after years of exposure to mountain air. Still, the pillows on the swing make it comfortable, and I hold the swing steady as Brooke sits down. When I sit down, she tucks her legs up under her, and I use my own to start the swing in motion.
“You want to interact with people?” I ask after a moment of silence.
“Definitely.” She nods. “I can’t help it. I’m an extrovert.”
That makes exactly one of us.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and fire off two texts. First to Logan, then to Ben.
Beckett
Brooke is looking for a job. Got anything she could do part-time?
Ben’s response is instantaneous.
Ben
Helping her put down some roots? I can always use another mechanic.
I look over at Brooke, who’s eyeing my phone suspiciously. “You aren’t by chance a certified mechanic, are you?”
“Nope. I didn’t know what to do when the gas tank fell out.”
