The Nice Guy Next Door Page 7

  Jameson and I stand in the now empty living room and stare at each other for a long moment. “You were wonderful,” I finally say. “Thank you for coming. We were all panicking.”

  “Not a problem. This has been the most exciting Friday night I’ve had in a long time,” he says, and I bust out in a fit of laughter. Before I know it, we’re both leaned against the couch, laughing until our stomachs hurt. We laugh so long that Amy and Lo come out of their room to observe the weird adults in all of our awkwardness.

  “You guys okay?” Lo asks.

  “Do you think it’s some weird form of PTSD?” Amy asks. “Should we get them on the phone with a tele-therapist?”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I say as I get myself under control.

  That night, after everyone has gone home and I find myself still unable to go to sleep, I pull out my computer to work on my novel. I take a sip of tea and think about all of the things I had planned out for the book. The hero of the book is supposed to be the CEO of a big corporation. It’s just not fitting him anymore, though. I make a note to change his career to a first responder…perhaps a paramedic. Someone who would come to people’s rescue in their most desperate times of need without even second-guessing it.

  I’ve never thought too much about a man in a uniform before, but I’m realizing now that it’s quite possibly the most attractive sight on this earth.

  Chapter Eight

  Jameson

  By Saturday morning—meaning a whole twelve hours later—the news of me delivering Tess’s baby in Millie’s living room is all over town. It’s all anyone is talking about. And most of the discussion is understandably centered around how this situation ever came to be. What I would like to know is how the news got out in the first place.

  I try to get some coffee at the coffee shop in town, and I’m instantly surrounded on all sides with people asking how it happened. The news station wants to interview all three of us for a segment for tomorrow night’s broadcast. I politely told them, “No, thanks.” The last thing I want is my face all over people’s TV screens.

  My mom has been blowing up my phone since she heard about it. She keeps asking me ridiculous questions, like What were you doing there? Why did she call you, of all people? When are y’all going to get married and give me a house full of grandbabies?

  She persuades me into asking Millie and Lo if they’d like to go to her house for dinner tonight so she can get a start on all of her matchmaking plans, but I do not tell her that I’m going to strongly advise them against it. There’s no telling what my mother will say to Millie when she finally meets her. I think I would die from shame if she mentioned grandchildren to Millie, who I’ve only known for one week. That doesn’t seem to be a problem for my mother, though.

  I’m sitting on a bench in the city square, drinking my coffee, when Seth finds me and says, “Well, if it isn’t the local hero.”

  “Ugh, not you too,” I groan. I should’ve known my best friend would turn it into a joke. He finds a way to make everything a joke.

  “So, did you just do what all of the TV shows do? Did it impress all of the ladies—specifically the one lady?” he asks. I’m throwing daggers at him with my eyes, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy laughing at his own jokes.

  Sometimes being friends with someone for so long is downright annoying. He knows exactly what gets under my skin, and it brings him no small amount of joy to do it. We’re really more like brothers at this point in our friendship, which makes it perfectly fine for me to punch him in the arm…which I do.

  “She called me in a panic and asked me to come. What was I supposed to say? ‘No, Millie. Good luck delivering a baby on your own,’” I say in defense. Anyone who had heard her on the other end of that phone call would have gone running. She was so scared. My feelings played no role in my decision. The only goal was to get there and make sure everyone was okay.

  “Yeah, okay. Finish that coffee. I thought you were going to work out with us,” he says. I swallow back the last sip and toss the paper cup in the trash can. I follow him into the gym, wishing I hadn’t drunk quite so much of that latte. After such a long night, I couldn’t resist the siren’s call of the coffee shop. No cardio today.

  Colby’s waiting for us by the counter and says, “I heard the news. That’s wild, man.” I can always count on Colby to be somewhat serious. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Annoyed by all the staring and questions,” I answer. I look around the gym, and people are working really hard to not look at me after my loud declaration the moment before. The people in this town know no boundaries.

  “How is Millie? She’s new here. The attention might be a bit much for her,” Colby says. I hadn’t thought to check on her this morning. Am I a bad person for not calling her to see if everything’s good? It’s a safe assumption that someone might be overwhelmed after a night like last night.

  I make a mental note to call her when I’m well away from Seth and Colby. They don’t believe for a second that Millie’s just a friend—and they would be correct. I don’t see Millie as just a friend. I’m not saying I’m going to push her into anything, but my heart feels more. And the more I get to know her, the more I’m worried about that feeling not going away.

  The look on her face last night while she watched Tess hold her baby for the first time was enchanting. There was longing in her eyes, and I can’t help but hope that someday I get to be the one beside her when she fulfills that longing.

  It’s far too soon for thoughts like that, and she only wants to be friends.

  I put my earbuds in and turn on my workout playlist, hoping that Seth and Colby get the message loud and clear. I’m here to work out some frustration, not chit chat. I’m not in the mood for socializing.

  I’m halfway through my second set when the Pilates class comes out. A stream of women—and a few men—make their way through the equipment over to the locker rooms and water station. My gaze lands on a petite woman with long, light-brown hair the color of honey. Millie and Lo are flushed and drenched in sweat, but they’re smiling and talking.

  Lo notices me watching them a moment later and whacks Millie’s arm. “Ouch, what was that for?” she says in outrage. She takes a long drink from her water bottle, and Lo elbows her in the arm, trying again to get her attention. Millie’s getting annoyed now and says, “What are you doing? You’re going to leave bruises all over me.”

  Lo points in my direction, and Millie’s eyes follow her finger until she sees me. Her mouth opens slightly, and she tries to fix her hair. Lo laughs and says something to her that I can’t hear, and this time, Millie smacks Lo in the arm. They take turns elbowing each other, and then Lo walks toward the locker room, laughing.

  “How are you this morning? Are you enjoying your new celebrity status here in Waverly?” I ask her. She already had celebrity status before last night simply because she is new in town, and then being seen in public with me—one of the few bachelors left in town—has only made the busybodies talk more. And now she has this to add to her portfolio.

  “Oh, it’s great. I love being gawked at everywhere I go. Still waiting for my chance to pose for the paparazzi.”

  I love that she has a sense of humor about everything. Not everyone would handle it with such grace. I’m not handling it with any grace at all.

  “I wanted to ask you…do you want to go have dinner at my mom’s house tonight? She put me up to asking you since she hasn’t been able to get away from her hair salon to coerce you into going.”

  “Will you be there?” she asks and bites her lower lip. The act draws attention to her plump lips, and I can’t peel my eyes away. She closes her mouth, and I look into her eyes and realize she’s waiting for me to answer.

  “No, I figured I could just drop you off and pick you back up when you’re done—of course I’ll be there!” I answer with a laugh. She laughs at my joke, and it sounds like a chorus of angels singing. I could listen to her laugh all day, every
day, and it wouldn’t be enough.

  I open the door to my mom’s house—the same house I grew up in—and hear Mama and Nana talking in the kitchen. The house smells amazing. Any good southerner knows that that smell means chili and cornbread.

  Millie and Lo stop by the door, refusing to move forward into the house. I stop and watch them, curious about their nerves. Millie pushes me forward to lead the way.

  “You’ve already met the scariest person in my family: Nana,” I tell her.

  She scoffs and says, “I don’t believe you for a second. Your nana is a sweetheart.”

  I cannot believe my ears. No one in all of my thirty-one years of living has ever called Nana a ‘sweetheart.’

  “Nana is fooling you and trying to butter you up,” I laugh.

  “Why?” she and Lo ask in unison.

  I narrow my eyes at them and consider the question. I hear two sets of footsteps charging into the room. “I don’t know,” I tell them before turning around to greet my mom and nana.

  They both ignore me completely and go straight to Millie and Lo. They get through all of the introductions and compliment each other on their superb outfit choices. Mama gushes over Millie’s and Lo’s long, beautiful heads of hair. Why do women always have to do this? Can’t they just hug, say hello, and move on to the food?

  Pops comes into the room and joins me while I watch the four women talk like old friends. Nana and Millie act like they really know each other, and I wonder what’s going on there.

  “Pops, has Nana been going to the library a lot?” I ask.

  “How should I know?”

  “You live with her,” I argue. He just harrumphs at me and goes back to the kitchen. Pops is a man of few words.

  I follow him into the kitchen, and we sit at the table, staring at the food in front of us, wishing we could eat. I begin to reach for a one of the corn muffins sitting right in front of my face, but the women come into the kitchen right then. Nana swats my hand and says, “Mind your manners, young man.”

  Millie sits beside me, and Lo chooses the seat across from Millie and beside Nana. Nana squeezes Lo’s shoulder as she sits in her seat, and a soft smile appears on Millie’s face as she watches her young sister.

  The way Millie cares for her sister does things to my heart. Things I can’t explain in words because words aren’t enough.

  Mama nudges me and says, “Quit staring at the pretty lady.” Millie’s face turns a bright shade of red when everyone around the table, excluding me, laughs.

  Mama serves us big bowls of chili, and my stomach growls when my eyes land on the steaming layers of meat, sour cream, and cheese. Mama’s chili is so good it’s known throughout the county. It has won no less than fifteen chili cookoffs. People will drop out of the contest if they know she has entered.

  Millie takes a bite, and I swear her eyes roll back in her head as the flavor hits her taste buds. “Oh my gosh, who made this?” she asks.

  Mama beams with pride, and so does Pops. Mama is the apple of his eye. Even when she got pregnant at eighteen, Pops was still so proud of her for choosing to keep me and raise me. Not that there’s anything wrong with placing your child in an adoptive home—because that’s an extremely admirable and brave choice.

  But Pops saw how conflicted Mama was after my father abandoned her. He has always been proud that she followed her heart, and I am too. I love my family and can’t imagine being raised anywhere else.

  “What brought you two to little ol’ Waverly?” Mama asks Millie and Lo. Millie tells everyone about her father’s sudden passing and taking in Lo while trying to finish school, finding a job here, and renting Nana and Pop’s house. My whole family sits stunned by the strength of the two women sitting at our table.

  “I can’t imagine being so young and in either of your positions. I mean, I’m almost fifty and still depend on my parents so much,” Mama says.

  “It’s not easy, but we do what we have to. And I’m learning that it’s okay to ask for help sometimes,” she says, and she looks at me with a small smile. Mama and Nana don’t miss a thing and exchange glances. There’s some kind of scheme going on between them, and that’s not good news for anybody. They’re so much alike that it’s scary.

  “You don’t have a boyfriend or a secret husband hiding somewhere, do you, Millie?” Mama asks just as I’m taking a sip of my tea. I choke and have a coughing fit at the table. Nana gives me the stink-eye like I’m doing it on purpose.

  “Um. Well, no,” says Millie. “I don’t have time for a relationship or any of the complications that come with them.”

  Nana scrunches her brows as she watches Millie explain all of the things she has going on in her life: new job, Lo, other things she’s working on that she purposefully doesn’t name. I’m determined to figure out what she’s hiding with that last part. I’d also like to know why she seems scared of relationships, because all of her excuses sound like just that…excuses.

  “Don’t you know that the right man would help with those things, not complicate them,” Nana says.

  “I know I sure wish I had been more open to a relationship when I was younger,” Mama adds with a laugh.

  Millie’s face is bright red, and Lo is giggling uncomfortably. The women in my family are about as subtle as a hurricane, and right now, they want a relationship between Millie and me. I did warn her that Nana and Mama are a lot to handle, but I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

  Pops is busy scarfing down his chili at the head of the table, not paying a bit of attention to the inappropriate conversation going on around him. If he is listening, he’s being smart by staying out of it. Something I cannot do. I can’t allow them to continue to make Millie uncomfortable.

  “So, did y’all hear that I helped deliver a baby last night?” I ask, desperate for any change of conversation. I’ve talked about the delivery so much today that I can spout out all of the information without thinking.

  “Shandi called me first thing this morning and told me all about it. Poor Tess having to be rushed to the hospital. I heard you may have saved her life…” Mama says.

  “What? No!”

  “You mean Tess didn’t make it?” Mama asks in shock. She covers her mouth with a trembling hand.

  “I mean there were no complications at all. She did go to the hospital, but she and the baby are fine,” I answer.

  “That Shandi, you can’t trust anything that comes out of her mouth.” Mama rests her elbow on the table and rests her chin in the palm of her hand. “I’m glad everything turned out fine.”

  “Yes, and everyone in town knows that, except you, apparently,” Nana adds. Pops laughs a full belly laugh, proving my theory that he’s listening and choosing to remain silent. The sound startles Millie, and she jumps out of her chair, holding her chest.

  “James you’ve given the poor girl a heart attack,” Nana says to Pops.

  Millie looks at me and says, “You were named after your grandpa? That’s so sweet.”

  I nod in confirmation and then remember my quest to figure out what Millie is short for. “Speaking of names,” I say. “I think I know what Millie is short for.” Mama sits up straighter in her chair, waiting to hear.

  “Oh, you do?” Millie asks, looking partly skeptical and partly worried. What name could be so horrible that she’s afraid of people knowing?

  “Camille!” I declare. I watch her as she breathes a sigh of relief.

  Lo laughs hysterically and says, “She wishes her name was Camille! Her name is even worse than mine!”

  Mama, Nana, and I sigh in disappointment. Pops, however, has a knowing glint in his eye. I make a mental note to question him later. He would know her real name from all the paperwork she had to fill out for the house. Too bad Nana doesn’t do any of the paperwork. She’d tell me her name if she knew it.

  I wish I had remembered to run her license plate when I stopped to change her tire last week. Technically, I could still run it, but it would be unethical to do it now
. I’ll figure it out, or she’ll eventually tell me.

  The rest of the dinner conversation sticks to safer topics like work or school, books, and how Millie and Lo are adjusting. Lo tells us all about the boy at school who has been mean to her. Nana assures her that she knows of Daniel. He’s a spoiled boy who has been coddled most of his life. In recent years, he has started acting out because of family drama at home. Lo appears sad hearing about his life.

  When we finish eating, we all walk over to Nana and Pop’s house so that Millie can see the garden that has been supplying her with vegetables. Millie gasps in surprise when she sees how huge it is. Nana takes great pride in her work, and she has one of the most successful stands at the farmer’s market. People from all over the county love Nana’s veggies.

  Too bad Millie couldn’t see it in the summer. Almost everything has been harvested now that it’s the beginning of October. A few things still grow very well in the fall here in Texas, so it’s not too empty.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Millie off in the distance, talking with Pops. He doesn’t talk freely with very many people, so the way he’s openly smiling with her warms my heart. He leans in and says something to her, and Millie’s face turns red. She’s clutching her hands together in front of her chest, pleading with him about something. He laughs softly, and then they shake hands.

  She walks off to join Lo, and I move in on Pops. “You know her name, don’t you?” I ask.

  “Don’t bother trying to get me to talk. I’m sworn to secrecy,” he says with a twinkle in his old eyes. Of course she won him over before I got a chance to get any information out of him. She could charm a snake if she wanted to.

  After a wonderful evening with Millie and my family, I arrive at home, feeling relaxed and content. It was great to see how well both Millie and Lo got along with my family. Mama and Nana are both chomping at the bit to adopt those two into the family.