Page 2 of A Lonely Road (Spruce Hill #2)
“We’re pretty friendly here in Spruce Hill, but most of the people on this street are young couples and families, not part of the drop-by-with-a-pie-for-the-new-neighbor generation.
Mr. Jenkins was the only one who showed up when I moved in a few years ago, armed with cookies from the grocery store. ”
“Right. That’s good to know.” Floundering for a way to bring the awkward conversation to a close, I said, “Well, I should go. I need to pick up some groceries, get settled in.”
Jake leaned one hip against the front of the truck, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that blatantly flaunted the ridiculously firm muscles under his tee. “How exactly were you planning to get to the grocery store after your car stalled?”
Before I could prevent it, I scowled at him. “Baby just needed a rest. Her battery isn’t what it used to be.”
“Baby,” he repeated, the corners of his lips twitching. “I think Baby needs a little more than rest, Nora. I’d be happy to help.”
My shoulders straightened as I said, “Thank you, but I’ll be fine on my own.”
“I have no doubt about that,” he replied.
Those pretty blue eyes of his danced with humor in a way that both enchanted and annoyed me. Just when I started to stalk toward my car, however, he dangled a carrot that I couldn’t refuse.
“I have a jump starter box you can use. There’s an auto supply store around the corner, they’ll install a new battery for free if you buy it from them.
Though I’m sure Hank won’t mind if you want to replace it yourself.
There’s also a woman-owned garage called Saucy Wrench on the other side of town, if you’re more comfortable there. ”
The garage’s name threatened to break through my commitment to giving him my darkest glare, but Jake continued to smile. It took a great deal of effort for me to finally grind out, “Sure, the jump start would be lovely.”
With a smirk that clearly stated he wasn’t put off in the least by my tone, Jake disappeared into his garage to get the box. I dragged my hands over my face, wishing for a complete do-over to this entire day.
What was wrong with me? It wasn’t like I’d never had an attractive neighbor before.
Hell, my last apartment building had thrown two beauties my way—Audrey from 6F and Jamal in 4B.
Maybe that situation was different, since all three of us were clear about not expecting anything other than a good time, but I’d never felt as nervous or off-balance as I did in meeting Jake Lincoln.
He returned and passed it to me without comment, which I appreciated immensely. At my muttered thanks, his lips tilted upward and that damned dimple peeked out from one cheek, then he gave a quick salute and returned to working on his truck.
I spun on my heel and forced myself to assume a natural gait as I walked toward the car, resisting the urge to hurry away like a scared little mouse.
The jumper box worked perfectly. I considered banging my head against the steering wheel but refrained, just in case Jake was still watching, and made my way to the store he mentioned, conveniently located barely a half mile from the apartment.
I’d have to scope out the other place, Saucy Wrench, some other time.
Baby probably needed more than just a battery—and sooner, instead of later.
“Another magical first impression made,” I muttered aloud, disgusted with myself for getting so flustered in front of Jake.
I’d spent years developing a polite but distinctly unfriendly persona for interacting with strangers. Within minutes, this new neighbor started edging his stupid, handsome face past my defenses. It had to be something about the warmth in his eyes, the easiness of his smile.
It had been a long time since I’d wanted to let someone in and now that the thought had taken root, I found the urge intensely irritating.
With a determined scowl, I forced Cute Neighbor from my mind.
Hank, an older man with a thick head of white hair and a bright smile that rivaled even Jake’s, sent someone to install my new battery the minute the words were out of my mouth.
By the time I’d paid and shoved the receipt into my purse, Baby was ready to roll.
I thanked both employees profusely before heading back toward the grocery store down the street.
By that point, I had my game face on. I offered murmured greetings to fellow shoppers, made small talk with the cashier, played the part of the new girl in town like I was a trained actress.
It was utterly ridiculous to have to encourage some friendly interactions in order to not draw even more unwanted attention, but blending in was the key.
I would do whatever was necessary to achieve that, Cute Neighbor or no. My quest to find a place to call home was my priority, and this town checked a lot of boxes.
On my way back to the apartment, I took a detour along Main Street to scope out the rest of the area.
It was a typical small town, populated by a mixture of family-owned businesses and a few chain stores.
In the stretch of a mile or two, I passed three cozy coffee shops, two pizza joints, and a trendy local restaurant-slash-bar that had two golden statues of mermaids on either side of the front door.
I snickered at the creatures but made note of the location.
While others flocked to cafes with their laptops in hand, I liked to work in a place where the sounds blurred into white noise and I could lose myself in a crowd, usually some kind of pub or a restaurant with a bar that didn’t mind me lingering at a table in the corner.
The only other option nearby was a dive bar I’d passed on the way into town.
Its lack of windows and dingy exterior had been an immediate turnoff.
I liked noise, not being surrounded by sketchy potential assailants.
The flutter that rose inside me as I turned onto my new street unsettled me, but Cute Neighbor appeared to have gone inside by the time I pulled into the driveway.
I told myself it was relief I was feeling, and I almost believed it. Hefting all of the grocery bags into my hands, I shouldered the trunk closed and returned to the blissful solitude of my new home.