Fall (Seaside #4)(20)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“So you cut him?” I taped the box and set it far, far away from me so I wouldn’t inflict damage on it again. Poor bears.

“Um, no, people don’t cut people here. It’s Oregon. We’re about peace.”

“So you hugged him to death?”

“Jaymeson!” She laughed and threw a pen at me. I ducked and returned her smile. “I just told him no.”

“And it worked?” I was stunned.

“Well… no.” She fidgeted with her hair. “But it gave me enough time to knee him in the balls and run away.”

“That’s my girl.”

And… utter silence.

“Anyway…” She laughed. “I think that’s all the questions for today. My schedule says I have you tomorrow too, right? We only have five more boxes, so we should be done by noon.”

“Great.” But it wasn’t. I was half-tempted to break into the church and unpack every damn box just so I could keep talking to her.

There I go again with the talking.

Beer. I needed more beer.

“Why don’t I give you a ride home then?” I suggested.

“I hope I’m not interrupting?” A knock sounded on the door. An elderly woman walked in. “Honey, I’m having problems with that old copy machine again, you think you could help me?”

“Sure, Stella.” Pris smiled.

“I can, um, wait?” I offered.

“Nah, Stella can give me a ride when she’s done, the office closes at three anyway.”

“Oh.” I nodded and forced a smile. “Right. Well, I’ll just see you… later?”

“Yup!” She walked past me and looped her arm with Stella’s.

I gave my best cool indifferent shrug and walked out of the room and down the hall, hating that the laughter from Pris brought more of a smile to my face than the promise of beer and more food.

Chapter Sixteen

Priscilla

“He sure seems like a rogue, that one.” Stella filed her nail and smiled. “He’s so… foreign.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s British. He doesn’t count.”

“How so?” Stella stopped filing.

“Because…” I fidgeted with the top of the copy machine. “He’s been living in the States for a long time and he doesn’t say funny words.”

“Funny words?” Stella snorted. “Dear, what in heaven’s name are you talking about?”

“You know.” I slammed the machine shut. “Funny words like loo or…” Yeah, that was all I had.

“He’s quite handsome.”

“So was Satan, and look what happened to him.” I smiled sweetly.

“All men fall.” Stella took a long sip of coffee. “Remember that. It doesn’t matter if they’re fat, skinny, British, black, white, Chinese, German—”

“I get your point.”

“Do you?” She scooted away from her chair and examined the copier. “All I’m saying is that… every man has the ability to fall in love.”

“Not one who’s thinking with his pants.” I crossed my arms. “Okay, how many copies did you want?”

“Thirty.” She sniffled. “His accent is so nice too.”

“Thirty copies it is.”

“And that tattoo, well it’s positively sinful. Delicious, I always was a fan of tattoos.”

“Is this all you needed?” I said through clenched teeth.

“And did you see the size of his—”

“Stella!”

“Hands dear, his hands. So masculine and lovely — an artist’s hands, that’s what I’d call them.”

“I’ll walk home.”

“I can take you!” Stella argued.

I waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. My house is only a mile away, I have my keys, I can just walk there then take my car up to the condo. Did you happen to get a hold of my parents for me?” Stella may be old but she was a texting machine, I’d texted her during the first stash of boxes to see if she would call them and give them details. The last thing I wanted was my mom and dad freaking out or crying on the phone over me. I was fine. Everything was fine.

Besides.

I didn’t want to hear their sighs when they discovered how much the damage would cost.

The house was paid for; it was the church’s after all.

Our only job? To pay for insurance.

Insurance we didn’t have because my dad paid from month to month and often during the summer and fall months, chose not to pay because it meant putting more food on the table and putting my silly sister through cheer camp.

“Voicemail.” Stella’s tone was low. “I’ll try again, but you really should try too, dear, your parents will want to know you’re safe.”

“I’m safe.” Yeah, right. If safe was living next door to every girl’s fantasy, sure I was super-duper safe. “I texted him,” I offered lamely.

Her eyes narrowed. “Your dad will be fine. He always is, he’ll bounce back from this, don’t worry your head, sugar.”

I nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ’kay?”

“Alright, dear.” Stella pulled me in for a hug then gently shoved me toward the door. I went back to the room and grabbed my purse and keys and made my way outside.

I was about halfway home when I felt like someone was watching me. Call it paranoia, but I almost started to run.

And then I heard honking.

I turned around ready to ram the car with my purse, when it pulled up alongside the sidewalk. It was Smith’s truck.

“Going somewhere, beautiful?”

“Home.” I bit my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. “I was going to pick up my car.”

“Better idea.” He tapped his head with his finger. “How about I take you to dinner, then take you to get your car, and then you can go home to your freakishly nice condo and fairy tale next door neighbor?”

“Umm…” I shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know.” What did I really know about Smith? Other than he was hot and interested? Sure he was Evan’s brother, but did that make him safe?

“Please,” he begged. “I promise I’ll feed you really good food. How could you say no to food? Besides, the company isn’t so bad either.”

“Oh yeah? You bringing someone else?” I joked.

His eyes narrowed but his smile never left his face. “Please?”