Page 43
Story: Hello Trouble
“Great.” I must have been coming off adrenaline because my hands were shaking as I put the ingredients away. I fumbled with the sugar canister but finally got it back in the cabinet. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky with the eggs.
The carton slipped from my shaky fingertips, opening on the fall and landing half a dozen eggs on the floor. “Crap,” I muttered. “Crap, crap, crap.” Could this night get any worse?
“Can I help?” Bennett asked.
At least I didn’t have to pick up this mess on my own. I glanced over my shoulder while I tugged at a roll of paper towels. “Can you get my steam mop? It’s in the closet over there.” I pointed at the closet in the corner of my living room and then bent down to wipe up what I could of the mess.
I carefully carried the pile of paper towels, eggshells, and the innards to my trashcan and then made another swipe at the liquid before I realized Bennett hadn’t come back with the mop.
I turned around to see what the holdup was and found him staring at the easel. He’d pulled it out of the closet and was now looking at the list my friends made labeled SINGLE GUYS IN COTTONWOOD FALLS.
My face instantly grew hot, and my vision tunneled. “Bennett...” I could only imagine what this looked like to him.
He turned back to face me again, utter betrayal marring his expression. “Is this some kind of hit list?” His tone was full of disgust.
“No, it’s not, it’s...” But my voice trailed off. How did I explain that he was part of some last-ditch, wine-induced effort to find my soulmate and stay in Cottonwood Falls? It would sound just as pathetic as I felt right now. “It’s not what you think,” I finally managed.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Della, I’m not real interested in cookies anymore.” He walked to my front door, yanking it open only to reveal Hayes Madigan standing there, hand raised.
Bennett gave us both a disgusted look, and I’d never felt so guilty before in my life. He might not have given me butterflies, but he didn’t deserve to feel like a reject. I knew that feeling all too well and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“Bennett, wait,” I said, but I couldn’t find anything to follow up the request. Not that he stuck around to find out. He walked to his pickup while I stood on the porch awkwardly with Hayes, watching him go.
To Bennett’s credit, he didn’t spew any foul words or flip us the bird, he just slowly drove off in his truck and used his turn signal at the empty intersection at the end of my street.
I let out a sigh, knowing this would probably get out, and I’d be the topic of the town’s gossip. Poor single Della, desperate to find a man.
“Is now a bad time?” Hayes asked.
I gave him a look.
He smirked. But when my features didn’t lighten, his expression sobered again.
“Did you come by to yell at me for sneaking in your house?” I asked, suddenly exhausted. “Because it’s really not a good time for a lecture.” My eyes stung with embarrassment, and I blinked back the tears while a pair of moths plinked against my porch light.
Not only had Hayes caught me in childish antics, but he’d also seen my only romantic prospect in this town walk right out the door without a backward glance. He probably thought I was as pathetic as I felt right now.
But instead of looking down on me, he tipped his head to the side. “What if I was here for something else?”
I raised my eyebrows, folding my arms protectively across my chest. “Would you like another throw pillow to match the first?” I retorted, trying to act more carefree than I felt.
He let out a low laugh at my wry joke. “No, Della. I’m here to ask if you’ll see me at the spring festival.”
My eyebrows drew together, surprised at the question. Surprised he’d come here to ask. “I’ll be at the festival... So I should see you there.” Where was he going with this?
He gave me a pained expression and raked his hand through his hair. “I meant can we go together.”
My lips parted in a mix of confusion and surprise. “Together?” Was he speaking English? Because Hayes and me together at the festival did not compute.
“For a date,” he elaborated. The words sounded foreign on his lips.
“You want to go on a... date? With me?” But Hayes Madigan didn’t date. Everyone in town knew it. He’d told me so himself. He also made it clear I was in a no-fly zone where he was concerned.
Nevertheless, he nodded slowly, shadows rising and falling along the angles of his face.
It all seemed so strange. “You’re not just asking me out to hook up with me?” I asked. That was the only language Hayes spoke with women as far as I knew.
He lifted his chin defiantly. “What if I’m asking because I enjoy your company?”
The carton slipped from my shaky fingertips, opening on the fall and landing half a dozen eggs on the floor. “Crap,” I muttered. “Crap, crap, crap.” Could this night get any worse?
“Can I help?” Bennett asked.
At least I didn’t have to pick up this mess on my own. I glanced over my shoulder while I tugged at a roll of paper towels. “Can you get my steam mop? It’s in the closet over there.” I pointed at the closet in the corner of my living room and then bent down to wipe up what I could of the mess.
I carefully carried the pile of paper towels, eggshells, and the innards to my trashcan and then made another swipe at the liquid before I realized Bennett hadn’t come back with the mop.
I turned around to see what the holdup was and found him staring at the easel. He’d pulled it out of the closet and was now looking at the list my friends made labeled SINGLE GUYS IN COTTONWOOD FALLS.
My face instantly grew hot, and my vision tunneled. “Bennett...” I could only imagine what this looked like to him.
He turned back to face me again, utter betrayal marring his expression. “Is this some kind of hit list?” His tone was full of disgust.
“No, it’s not, it’s...” But my voice trailed off. How did I explain that he was part of some last-ditch, wine-induced effort to find my soulmate and stay in Cottonwood Falls? It would sound just as pathetic as I felt right now. “It’s not what you think,” I finally managed.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Della, I’m not real interested in cookies anymore.” He walked to my front door, yanking it open only to reveal Hayes Madigan standing there, hand raised.
Bennett gave us both a disgusted look, and I’d never felt so guilty before in my life. He might not have given me butterflies, but he didn’t deserve to feel like a reject. I knew that feeling all too well and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“Bennett, wait,” I said, but I couldn’t find anything to follow up the request. Not that he stuck around to find out. He walked to his pickup while I stood on the porch awkwardly with Hayes, watching him go.
To Bennett’s credit, he didn’t spew any foul words or flip us the bird, he just slowly drove off in his truck and used his turn signal at the empty intersection at the end of my street.
I let out a sigh, knowing this would probably get out, and I’d be the topic of the town’s gossip. Poor single Della, desperate to find a man.
“Is now a bad time?” Hayes asked.
I gave him a look.
He smirked. But when my features didn’t lighten, his expression sobered again.
“Did you come by to yell at me for sneaking in your house?” I asked, suddenly exhausted. “Because it’s really not a good time for a lecture.” My eyes stung with embarrassment, and I blinked back the tears while a pair of moths plinked against my porch light.
Not only had Hayes caught me in childish antics, but he’d also seen my only romantic prospect in this town walk right out the door without a backward glance. He probably thought I was as pathetic as I felt right now.
But instead of looking down on me, he tipped his head to the side. “What if I was here for something else?”
I raised my eyebrows, folding my arms protectively across my chest. “Would you like another throw pillow to match the first?” I retorted, trying to act more carefree than I felt.
He let out a low laugh at my wry joke. “No, Della. I’m here to ask if you’ll see me at the spring festival.”
My eyebrows drew together, surprised at the question. Surprised he’d come here to ask. “I’ll be at the festival... So I should see you there.” Where was he going with this?
He gave me a pained expression and raked his hand through his hair. “I meant can we go together.”
My lips parted in a mix of confusion and surprise. “Together?” Was he speaking English? Because Hayes and me together at the festival did not compute.
“For a date,” he elaborated. The words sounded foreign on his lips.
“You want to go on a... date? With me?” But Hayes Madigan didn’t date. Everyone in town knew it. He’d told me so himself. He also made it clear I was in a no-fly zone where he was concerned.
Nevertheless, he nodded slowly, shadows rising and falling along the angles of his face.
It all seemed so strange. “You’re not just asking me out to hook up with me?” I asked. That was the only language Hayes spoke with women as far as I knew.
He lifted his chin defiantly. “What if I’m asking because I enjoy your company?”
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