The Nice Guy Next Door Page 3
“Can y’all discuss this over a candlelit dinner later or something? I’m already late,” Lo interjects.
Jameson raises his eyebrows in surprise and says, “Okay, you’re free to go.” He turns and walks back to his car, and Lo and I slide into our seats. I watch him in the rearview mirror for a moment. That’s definitely laughter making his broad shoulders shake.
I put the car in drive and pull out onto the highway. “He was being perfectly professional. Why did you say that?” I ask Lo. He probably thinks I spent hours gushing about his perfect face to my little sister. How embarrassing. Especially considering I’m only interested in being his friend. I don’t need him getting the wrong idea here. I have no room in my life for a relationship—not now, not ever. I’ve seen how love ends, and it’s never good.
For now, I’m wholly devoted to giving Lo a carefree last two years of high school. She’s gone through so much and worked so hard this past year. She deserves to be a typical teenager for a change. After that, we’ll see where the wind takes me. But it won’t be taking me in the direction of a man. I know that for a fact.
“Yeah, sure. But he looks at you like he wants to maul you,” Lo says. She shakes her head as if to say I’m in denial.
I walk into the library twenty minutes late. Hopefully Jameson never finds out, but I sped the entire way from the high school—not recommended when driving on a donut. Gertrude, the head librarian watches me with her hands clasped behind her back and waits for an excuse.
My face turns bright red as the rest of the library staff watches on in horror, wondering what Gertrude will do to me. I babble for a moment before words come spilling out of me. I narrate my entire morning for her, starting with my search for my shoes, all the way down to the point where I had to go inside Lo’s school to sign her in because she was so late. Lo was furious with me, by the way. No teenager wants to be walked into school.
The sympathetic looks on my new coworkers’ faces give me hope that Gertrude will go easy on me.
The woman simply holds up her hand to stop my talking and says, “I will let it slide this once. Do not let it happen again. I do not tolerate unprofessionalism.” She walks away to her office in the back of the building, and the room breathes a collective sigh of relief.
A woman with a kind face and a very pregnant belly waddles over to me. “Hi, I’m Tess. I’m going to be orienting you to take over my position this week, and then I’m out to have this baby and live the life of a stay-at-home mom,” she says with a dreamy smile on her face.
She takes me around the library to show me how everything is organized. The children’s section is open and colorful. There are bean bag chairs, a reading tent, puzzles, coloring pages, a train table, and shelves and shelves of blessed books. Next, she takes me to the room we use for story time. There are crafts made of paper, cardboard, and colorful streamers scattered along the walls.
Tess sighs and says, “There’s not a whole lot to do in this town, so story time is quite the event for the preschoolers.”
“Are you going to miss it?” I ask.
“I will. But I want to be home with my kids. This is my second,” she says. She rubs her belly like she’s caressing her baby. “Do you have any kids?”
“No, but I am my sister’s guardian. She’s ten years younger than me.”
“Oh, a teenager. Bless you. I dread the day my girls are teenagers,” says Tess. Her eyes are wide. She must be imagining something horrible involving short shorts and boys.
“It’s really not bad. She’s a sweet girl…usually,” I say to ease some of her terror. I do refrain from mentioning her snarky comments and angst from this morning, however, and her refusal to talk to me as I followed her inside the school office to sign her in. I will be surprised if she talks to me this afternoon. Truthfully, it has been ten months with Lo, and I still don’t have a clue what I’m doing.
My dad did great with her. She’s mature for her age, she works hard at school, and she’s kind—excluding that sarcastic sense of humor. I’m worried that I’m going to screw her up. What if I negate all of the work my father did with my fumbling around. Because that’s what I’m doing: fumbling through parenting. Should I even be calling what I’m doing parenting? Probably not. It has been more like a trial-and-error experiment. Somehow, I’ve managed to skate by without any major ordeals, but I’m constantly waiting for everything to fall apart.
“Yes, the look on your face is very convincing,” Tess says. She laughs and then drags me over to what will be my desk. She logs into the computer and shows me how to order new books, the card catalog system, all of the spreadsheets, the schedule of events, etc. It’s a lot of information to absorb in one morning, and my mind is scrambling to keep up. There’s no way I’ll be able to do all of this by myself by next week.
“You look a little shell shocked,” Tess says. She places a hand on my shoulder and continues, “Don’t worry, the girls at the circulation desk know how to do a lot of this too. They’ll be happy to help you.” She calls over a fresh-faced young woman who can’t be more than twenty.
“Hi, I’m Millie. It’s my first day,” I tell her, which is unnecessary. They all know exactly who I am. She laughs a little, but it’s a kind laugh. I already know that the two of us will be great friends—and goodness gracious, do I need a gal pal.
“I’m Hannah.”
“So, Hannah works the circulation desk, and she helps me a lot. She’s God’s gift to this library,” Tess says. “And I’m going to miss her so much.”
The two of them hug, and I wonder if it would be too awkward if I were to get in on the hug action. I could use a good pat on the back after this disastrous day. It has been a long time since I’ve gotten regular hugs. My dad used to fill my love tank with all of the hugs, but Lo isn’t exactly the cuddly type. She’s more of a prickly cactus when it comes to people encroaching upon her personal space. On rare occasions, when she’s excited or she sees my need for human contact and indulges me in a hug or pat on the back.
“Right now, this baby girl is demanding for me to put food in this belly. Do y’all want to go grab lunch in town?” Tess asks us. Hannah and I both nod our agreement, and we all disperse to grab our purses.
We’re seated in a hole-in-the-wall diner in town. I never would have given the place a second look based on the outside, but the inside is adorable. It looks exactly like what I would imagine a grandma’s kitchen to look like. Wooden tables with colorful mismatched chairs are spaced out around the large room, and old family pictures from all different eras are decorating the walls. Some appear to be from the nineteenth century. Those draw my attention the most.
The three of us are talking and sipping on syrupy sweet tea when a group of boisterous men walk in. Hannah’s eyes lock onto them, and she sits up a little straighter in her seat. The men are led to a table near us, and one of them stops when his gaze falls on us.
“Hey, Hannah,” he says and sits down beside her to give her a hug. “Why hasn’t that baby come out yet, Tess?”
Tess rolls her eyes and says, “I still have another month, Colby.” I try to keep the shocked expression from my face. Not to be insensitive, but the woman’s belly does not look like it can handle another month. I was sure she was due any day now.
“Colby, have you met Millie? She’s the new children’s librarian taking Tess’s place,” Hannah says. “Colby’s my brother.”
“So, you’re the librarian that has Jameson suddenly interested in taking trips into the library. Nice to meet you,” he says with a smile that tells me he’s happy about something more than just meeting me. He reaches over the table and gives me a quick handshake.
Hannah’s and Tess’s heads both snap toward me. Their questioning and surprised expressions set my heart to pounding. I knew this was a small town when I moved here, but I didn’t know it was so small I’d be living under a microscope. A man can’t go into a library without his motives being questioned?
I stutter for a s
econd before saying, “Oh, he’s my neighbor…and his grandparents are my landlords. I’m renting their house. But of course that’s the definition of a landlord, isn’t it?” They continue to stare at me, so I go on and say, “We’re friends, sort of. More like acquaintances. I’ve only seen him twice. Well, three times if you count him changing my tire for me this morning.”
“Wait, he changed your tire this morning?” Colby asks with a loud laugh. “This is too good! Hey, Seth!” he stands and calls over to his table of friends. Another man turns and starts walking toward us. Hannah starts fidgeting with her hair and clothes. The man’s—Seth, I assume—eyes land on Hannah, and a smile spreads across his face.
“Seth, did Jamesy tell you that he rescued our new librarian this morning?” Colby asks with laughter in his voice.
“You mean the one he has the hots for?” he asks with a small laugh.
“One and the same,” Colby says and gestures to me.
“How convenient that he gets to play knight in shining armor,” he replies.
My face is bright red at this point. I have no idea why these guys are under the impression that something is going on between me and Jameson. I haven’t spent longer than ten minutes in the man’s company. They have some very active imaginations if changing my tire is giving them ideas about us.
“Hi, I’m Seth,” he says and reaches out a hand for me to shake. I place my hand in his and say, “I’m Millie. Jameson’s neighbor—only his neighbor.”
Hoping that will shut them both down, I turn my attention to my tea. It’s so sweet. I wonder how much sugar they use in it. I’m going to crash later, and the afternoon is going to drag on and on.
I hear them chatting next to me, but I tune out their words. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Seth nudge Colby with his elbow and then nod to the entry of the diner. I look to see what has drawn their attention. It’s Jameson. Of course it’s him. Why did I escape one small town just to go to another?
Colby and Seth both step back and cross their arms over their chests, preparing to observe me and Jameson in the wild like we’re some sort of nature documentary. Well, here’s my chance to shut down all of their gossip-mongering and show them that we are nothing but polite acquaintances.
Jameson walks to his friends and greets them with the typical back beatings that come with hugs exchanged between males. “Look who we ran into,” Colby says with a sly smile. Jameson turns to our table. He sees Hannah and then Tess, and then his eyes land on me sitting in the corner of the booth.
His eyes noticeably darken, and my stomach clenches. It’s only because he looks so ridiculously rugged and manly in that uniform. Well, actually, I was pretty breathless around him Thursday night at the library, too, when he was all flushed and sweaty from playing baseball. But if I were to see him looking normal, I would react to him just like any other man on the street. He wouldn’t even catch my eye. Lo would ask me if I see Jameson, and I’d say, “Jameson who?”
“I’m so glad to see you, Millie,” he says, and all heads at the table turn to look at him. Tess is biting her lip between her teeth, Colby and Seth are giggling like schoolgirls, and Hannah’s eyes are going to pop out of their sockets if she opens them any wider.
“You are?” I ask, and all of their heads swivel to me. Back and forth, back and forth their heads turn as Jameson and I talk.
“Yeah, I wanted to see if ol’ Gertie went easy on you for being late this morning.”
“Ol’ Gertie?” I ask, shocked that he is brave enough to use that moniker for that woman. She probably has spies scattered throughout the town, listening for anyone brave—or stupid—enough to say anything negative about her.
“Gertrude. Your new boss. Don’t tell her I call her that, by the way. I’m one of the few people she’s nice to, and I want to keep it that way. I called her to soften her up after I changed your tire,” he says.
“If that was her going easy on me, I’d hate to see her normal behavior,” I say with a shudder. The woman is terrifying. She’s tall—or at least significantly taller than me—and her tight, low bun gives her a severe air about her. If that wasn’t enough, she holds her back ramrod straight and looks down her nose at everyone. How did Jameson get on the woman’s good side? I have to know his secret. Does she have a soft spot for puppies? If I bring in a basket of puppies with bows tied around their necks, would she suddenly love me? I’d do it if she would.
“You’ll get used to her,” he assures me with a wink. Hannah gasps when she sees it, and everyone looks at her.
“Oh…look. They have…club sandwiches on the menu,” she stutters to cover her surprise.
“They’ve always had club sandwiches. Literally since before you were born,” Colby says like the good big brother he is. I observe the similarities in their faces. Dirty-blond hair, blue eyes, wide mouths. If I had to bet, I’d say they look like their mom. They’re too pretty to take after a man—Colby included.
“Do y’all want to come sit with us?” Jameson asks. “We can push that other table up to ours.” I want to say no just to prove that we don’t have anything going on between us, but Hannah’s face is screaming yes. I don’t have the heart to ruin it for her.
The men go over to move the tables around, and I’m left beside Tess. “What’s going on between Hannah and Seth?” I duck my head close to hers and ask.
Tess shrugs her shoulders like she hasn’t noticed Hannah pining after the man. “Who knows,” she says. “She’s known him her whole life. Maybe she has a little crush on him.”
“Do you think he could ever like her back?” I ask, hopeful for my new work friend.
“Hmm, she’s twenty-three, and he’s about thirty-one. I think it would be hard for him to see her as anything other than the little-sister type, but I won’t say never.”
We join the rest of the table, and I meet the two other men who walked in with Seth and Colby. They work with Colby, who I find out teaches Biology at Lo’s high school. Seth is a firefighter, and he and Jameson get into a debate about which job is better. The results are inconclusive, mostly because I can’t focus on anything they’re saying. Jameson’s leg is pressed up against mine, and my brain refuses to ignore it. The table is so crowded that there’s nothing I can do about it.
Periodically, someone asks me a question, and it’s just an understood thing at this point that they’ll have to repeat it at least twice. I’m being labeled as an airhead as I sit here sweating over Jameson’s close proximity. I would say at least my food is good, but I’ve barely tasted a single bite. I can’t wait for this lunch to be over so I can put some distance between us.
Chapter Four
Jameson
Millie is in the passenger’s seat of my patrol car, nervously twiddling her thumbs. Every time she shifts her weight, the heavy-duty raincoat I have her sitting on makes loud noises, cutting through the silence. She looked at me like I was insane when I insisted that she sit on it. Everyone I arrest sits in that seat she’s in right now, and I’ve arrested some interesting characters, to put it kindly. Drunk people have peed on that seat. Sure, it has been thoroughly cleaned since the last time, but I still don’t trust it.
She looks around at all of the equipment in the car and asks questions when something draws her attention. The leg restraints were especially intriguing to her. I’ve had to use those several times. Once when a woman kept knocking my computer over with her knee and another time when a drunk man tried to kick my windshield out.
She’s incredibly uncomfortable being in this car with me. I hope it’s just because it’s a patrol car and not because of me. She made it crystal clear that she didn’t want to ride with me, but she didn’t have another option. Tess and Hannah were going to the grocery store to pick something up for Gertrude, and Millie wanted to get back to the library to avoid angering ol’ Gertie for a second time on her first day of work.
“Do you like being a state trooper?” she asks out of the blue, not realizing that it’s a massively lo
aded question. How much do I want to unload on this woman I only met a few days ago? Do I want to explain to her that the reasons I wanted to work in law enforcement are still valid? I want to make a difference: help people, protect people, be someone who shields others from the worst evils in this world. But how do I explain that there are days that I’m not so sure it’s worth it anymore? Especially now that it seems someone is threatening me. It could be someone I’ve dealt with in the past, or it could be someone who simply hates law enforcement. I’m still hopeful that it was just a harmless prank, but with the way this world is, I doubt it.
I don’t tell her any of that. Instead, I simply say, “Sure,” because I don’t know what else to say. People tend to accept that answer without digging any deeper, because most people don’t actually care. They’re just trying to make polite conversation. The real, honest answer isn’t polite and would make most people uncomfortable.
But Millie isn’t satisfied with my surface-level answer, because she asks, “What do you mean ‘sure’? What kind of answer is that? That would imply that it’s a given that someone would like being a state trooper, and I can promise you that I would hate it. Not that it isn’t a great job. I don’t do well under pressure.”
My jaw momentarily drops open, and I take a moment to recover from the shock. “It has its days. It’s a hard job, but I stand by why I do it.” That answer seems to appease her. She nods her head and then turns to watch out the window.
We pull into the library parking lot, and before she can get out of the car, I snatch her hand up in mine. She tenses up and stares into my eyes with surprise written all over her perfect face. I take a moment to appreciate the soft waves of hair flowing down to her waist before I say, “I know you’re new in town and still trying to get settled, but I would like to take you out to dinner.”