At the Stars(46)
“Morning, ladies.” He sounds friendly. No sign of the way he kissed me last night or the way we both cried together while he unburdened himself in the dark under the stars.
Honestly, I expected him to be weird towards me after it happened. Come to find out, I’m the one who’s a little off-kilter.
I run out of things to mess with under the table and look up. He looks amazing, the way he always does. The intensity of his eyes almost knocks me over, and I have to grip the table to keep from taking our display with me. “Hey. Didn’t expect to see you today.”
The morning sun frames him like a halo, showing off the bright light in his eyes and his smile. He’s got a standard white T-shirt and jeans on today. I think it’s my favorite thing I’ve seen him wear. The shirt shows his body off but not in an obvious way. The color of his tattoos blaze against its crisp backdrop. He looks relaxed, and it’s such a welcome change over his typical guardedness.
“I’m helping out Joe,” he says. “Gotta serve nachos and onion rings to all the hungry masses.”
He jerks his thumb to where Joe’s booth is set up. I notice LeeAnne, the waitress from Joe’s, watching us from over there. So is some teenaged girl at the Wooly Momma knitting display. I don’t blame them, but the look on LeeAnne’s face makes me uncomfortable.
“Cool.” Okay, it’s awkward. After last night, I don’t know what to say. We’re neither friends nor lovers, and Delia is quietly placing mini lemon loaves on the adjacent table with a smug smile and a knowing look in her eye.
I’m so glad he trusted me with his story. I just... I don’t know what we are now. I know I want us to be something we can’t if I’m leaving town in a few more days.
He squints into the morning light and puts on a pair of sunglasses from his back pocket. “Yeah. These weekend festivals are always nice. They put everyone in a good mood. A lot of work, but worth the effort.”
I study his profile now, feeling the memory of his lips and his cheek and his forehead pressing against mine. “Yeah,” I say. “It does look like it’s worth the effort.”
“I think so.” He gives me that self-assured, dimple-popping grin, but then his phone makes a buzzing sound. Whatever it has to say pulls his smile down into a nasty glare.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine.” His smile comes back. A little dimmer, and I’d bet money those eyes aren’t crinkling up behind the sunglasses. He’s making the effort, though. “Hey, you’re still playing tonight, right? I’m looking forward to hearing you sing.”
“Absolutely.” Honestly, if he hadn’t asked, I’d be tracking down Joe to see if I could back out. I hadn’t factored in the extra activity from Founders’ Day when I agreed to do the open mike night. I’d figured on a few drunks who weren’t listening anyway. Now the idea of performing is making my hands go numb and my heart skip around.
“Great.” He points two fingers at Delia, grinning wide now. “I’ll bring some nachos by later if you promise to save me a loaf of pumpkin bread.”
Delia smiles back. Jake’s grin works on everybody, after all. You can’t not respond. “I think that can be managed.” She raises an eyebrow as he walks off, and I turn to start breaking down boxes, pretending to be oblivious to her questioning looks.
“I like him. He seems sweet. Always tips more than necessary at the shop.”
I swallow. “That’s... great.”
“It’s a sign of good character. I’ll tell you I’ve seen people come into my shop every day for years and never leave so much as a nickel.” She shakes her head, sliding a stack of bakery trays under a table skirt. “That young man, he keeps to himself, but he’s always polite. Holds doors open, brings over the creamer to be refilled instead of leaving the empty one on the counter. Little things like that tell you about a person.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” I watch Jake a few booths down as he hefts big metal chafing dishes or whatever you call them, nodding to his boss and smiling politely. Delia isn’t saying anything I hadn’t thought myself. The fact that he’s such a good guy is part of what made his insistence on keeping the world at bay so puzzling.
I guess I get it now. After last night, so much makes sense that didn’t before. He seems like he’s in a better mood today, and I can’t stop hoping that maybe I helped with that somehow. If I learned anything from all that therapy Mom dragged me to after I was attacked, it’s that sometimes people just need someone to listen.