Page 2 of Lovewell Lane (Honeyfield Dreamers #1)

Derek

A grunt fell from my lips as I dropped another bag of chicken feed onto the store shelf.

I cringed at the involuntary noise and thought of my six-year-old daughter who, at every opportunity, made fun of my grunts and groans.

I was forced to grow up quickly, so everyone around me made fun of how I was a grumpy old man, but lately, it felt like less of a joke.

The shop bell chimed throughout the empty store.

My brother, Sam, was in my office ordering inventory, so I chose to ignore the announcement of a customer in hopes that he would deal with it.

Sam had always been the outgoing brother, while I avoided speaking with people at all costs. It was for my benefit and theirs.

A head peeked around the shelf I was crouching next to. My height and size didn’t make for the best hiding abilities. Her face lit up with a smile as she approached me with little care for my personal space. My nose was immediately assaulted with her flowery perfume.

“Derek,” she greeted cheerfully, her voice two octaves higher than when I heard her speak to anyone else. Her shiny engagement ring flashed as she pushed hair behind her ear, only to pull it back out to frame her face seconds later. She reminded me of a parrot that couldn’t stop preening itself.

“Mrs. Nelson,” I grumbled while scratching my neck. I already hated where this was going. Anytime a married woman looked at me with those eyes, I did my best to stay far away.

“I have a major dilemma with my kitchen window. With all this rain lately, it won’t stop leaking. So I was wondering if you had any caulk that you could help me with.”

Her hand rested on my bicep, and she posed in a way that looked like it would hurt her back. I flinched at the touch. Even if she was single, I wouldn’t be interested, but there was nothing that turned me off faster than infidelity.

I cleared my throat and took a large step back. “It’s in the next aisle over.”

Quickly turning to busy myself with moving around the chicken feed that was already on the shelf, I pointedly stared at the wall until I heard her footsteps retreat.

The sound of the office door opening and closing made me let out a breath. A few seconds later, I heard Sam explaining caulk guns to the woman while making casual conversation.

I eavesdropped until their little chat was over.

In the end, she didn’t buy anything. Typical.

We lived in a small town, so a lot of people stopped in just to chat.

There wasn’t much to do around here, and we were one of the only open places in town.

But the women stopping by just to flirt with me or Sam were only wasting their time.

I was indefinitely single, and Sam already had his heart set on someone.

He called out to me mockingly, “You can come out now. She’s gone.”

I waited a few seconds longer to move. Nothing annoyed me more than letting my little brother feel like he was right about something.

“You should really be nicer to our customers, you know,” he chided once I was in view.

I rolled my eyes. Over the years, Sam accumulated every possible shortcut to piss me off. It was one of his favorite hobbies.

“She’s married. And you have to buy something to be considered a customer,” I argued gruffly.

Sam rolled his eyes. “She’s a stay-at-home mom, and she probably just wanted to interact with someone. Sometimes married people flirt, it’s harmless.”

I waited a few seconds for him to realize what he said.

His eyes widened as he jerked his head up to look at my face.

He fumbled over his words as he spoke, “Sorry, I just meant it wouldn’t kill you to have a conversation with people.

We do run a farm and hardware store after all.

Part of that is helping customers with questions. ”

“I’ll work on it,” I placated with no intention of following through.

“I have to finish the order, the next person that comes in is all on you,” Sam decided with a smile while walking backward. His grin was laid-back as always.

I took off my gloves and dropped them on the counter. “Who put you in charge?”

“You did,” he reminded me. “You’re stocking, and I’m ordering.”

I let out a sigh and turned to go to our back room for more boxes to unpack. Mrs. Nelson’s interruption reminded me that I needed to restock the caulk.

“Be nice,” my brother said over his shoulder. “The next woman that walks through that door could be the love of your life. You never know.”

I choked out a laugh. In the back, I cut open boxes with my pocket knife and stacked them up tall to be as efficient as possible. The stack rested just higher than my chin, cutting off my line of sight, which caused me to plow right into something.

A girly gasp reached my ears, and out of instinct, I stretched my hand out to steady the woman.

I shifted the weight of the boxes to one arm to free my hand.

And in slow motion, I watched as they tipped over and spilled all over the floor.

I scowled and let go of the arm I was holding once I realized she was steady.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed out.

When I turned away from the mess on the floor, I found a woman that I’d never seen before.

That didn’t happen often. Her nervous smile nearly blinded me, and for some reason, I wanted to return it.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled at a woman.

Or even been attracted to one. I thought I’d lost that ability a long time ago.

She was beautiful. The kind of person that glowed from the inside out.

Dirty blonde hair and green eyes were what drew me in, but all of her features were soft and sweet.

Her slightly upturned nose had a speckling of freckles across it.

Her cheeks flushed pink and her lips were even pinker, so much so that I had to drag my eyes away from them.

Her bright yellow puffer jacket made her stand apart from the dull monotony of my farm store.

In my staring, I realized she was holding her hand out with something for me.

I looked down to figure out what it was. Something wrapped in cloth with a little bow made out of twine tying it all together.

“This is for you. Sorry, I called out, but you must not have heard me,” she said with a slight pinch between her brows.

No wonder I didn’t see her, she was short. Her neck craned to look up at me with her cheeks becoming pinker by the second.

“Hello,” I said with a healthy amount of hesitation. That was probably a stupid thing to say. My brother’s words echoed in my head, and while I usually would ignore them, this customer intrigued me. “It’s fine. How can I help you?”

“Uh, I’m new to town,” she said slowly like she was soothing a growling dog.

She put down her colorful offering gently into my now empty hands before bending down to her knees. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Let me help you with your um,” she paused while looking at the mess on the floor.

“Caulk,” I deadpanned.

She let out a quiet choking sound. A laugh of disbelief that got caught in her throat. I bent down to my knees to help her shove all of the items back into the boxes.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m just putting it on the shelf anyway,” I said.

“No, please, let me. I’m so sorry,” she insisted. Our hands brushed against each other as we reached for the same caulk, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. We gathered the rest of the fallen items in silence. Once everything was back in a box, I reached out a hand to help her to her feet.

“I’m a baker. I’ll be opening a diner across the street from you.” Her pink-painted nail pointed out the front door to the vacant building directly opposite mine. “I thought I’d bring you some cookies and introduce myself.”

Ah. A Dreamer. Should’ve known.

I picked up the wrapped cookies and read the note attached to it. She had pretty handwriting, the kind that belonged on wedding invitations.

“Your name is Mango?” I asked.

“Uh, no. It’s Margo ,” she corrected. Looked like I struck a nerve because her pretty smile twitched a little.

“Great, welcome.”

She seemed shocked at my bluntness. Every one of the ‘Dreamers’ that came to our town expected some welcome wagon as if us townspeople were happy they’d finally come to save the day. In reality, we all knew they wouldn't last long.

“Thanks,” she chirped. “Do you think you could point me in the direction of Sweethearts Street? I lost signal a few miles back.”

“Right at the end of the street, make a right, then a left, and you’re there.”

She lingered in the middle of the aisle, looking like she was debating on saying something else. After a healthy pause, she spoke again, “Do you not like cookies?”

“What?”

“Cookies. You seem perturbed by the thought of them.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Not a dessert person.”

Her mouth fell open shortly and then formed a pretty little pout.

When was the last time I’d had sex? I should not be turned on by a woman pouting at me.

Especially one that looked about ten years younger than me.

I was a dad and pushing thirty-six. A woman in her twenties was definitely off limits.

She recovered from her shock shortly after. “Do you like bread?”

“Who doesn’t?”

She nodded, clearly appreciative of that answer. “I’ll bring you bread, then.”

“That’s really not necessary,” I stated.

Nosey as always, Sam opened the office door to interrupt our conversation. “He loves bread. He goes out of his way to buy freshly baked sourdough from a bakery a few towns over every Sunday.”

The woman’s eyes lit up at Sam’s declaration. “Good to know. I’m Margo.”

Sam crossed the floor and shook hands with her.

“Sam. Great to meet you, welcome to town.” He took a few steps closer to pat me on the shoulder.

I was in the middle of figuring out how to soundproof the damn office when he spoke again, “Derek here is slow to warm up, but if you need anything, he’d be more than happy to help. ”

“I will keep that in mind,” Margo replied while not looking convinced.

“And he has a daughter, she’ll love these. Thank you,” Sam said while stealing the neatly wrapped cookies from me.

Margo smiled. “Oh, good. They’re chocolate chip. It’s my secret recipe.” She looked out the windows to the street. “I should go find my new home for the time being. Thanks for the directions.”

I did my best attempt at a polite nod when she looked at me. “Good luck.”

“Where are you staying?” Sam just could not let a conversation end.

Margo turned around, one hand on the door. “Oh, someone is renting out a guest house to me. So, I’ll be right here in town.”

“Great, well, we’ll see you around then,” Sam retorted with a big smile.

Growing up, adults always told us he was the most like my father.

It was in times like these that I realized how true that statement was.

Sam was charming, a little too charming in my book.

And for the first time, something in me grew annoyed at his effortless ability to smooth talk anyone.

The second the door closed, I turned to Sam. “What poor idiot rented out their house to a stranger?”

“It’s a normal thing now, old man. There are entire apps for renting out your house, someone probably just needed more money on the side.”

I internally groaned while picking up the boxes that spilled everywhere. “I bet she lasts less than three months.”

Sam glared at me like a disappointed parent. He was only two years younger than I was. While I was the makeshift parental figure in our family growing up, Sam grew up fast too, and never let me slide when I was being a dick.

“I was plenty nice to her,” I defended. “You should be proud.”