Her cheeks turn pink again. “You really are a bad boy, aren’t you?” she whispers, almost like she’s thinking aloud.
“I can be as good or as bad as you want me to be.”
“I’ve always wanted the good guys,” she muses. I’m not a bit surprised. I’d be willing to bet she’s never broken a rule in her entire life.
“Maybe it’s time for a change.”
“Maybe it is,” she says softly, her blue eyes flickering down to my mouth and back again.
“Tell me to kiss you,” I say quietly as I lean slowly toward her.
Like I poked her with a cattle prod, I see her eyes widen and a startled look come over her face. She steps back, as though she’s stepping away from danger. “I need to go. I’ll be back after lunch.”
And with that, she turns and walks quickly to where her car is parked, slides behind the wheel, and drives away. I step out of the barn to watch her go. And I see her watching me through her rearview mirror.
I grin at her and wink. Whether she can see it or not, it doesn’t matter.
It’s just a matter of time.
SEVEN: Laney
Sunday morning, and I’ve never been happier to hear the pianist start the first hymn. Here I thought I’d have to worry about sinful thoughts of Jake during church. Little did I know today’s torture would be about Shane instead.
I’m already tired of all the good-natured, well-meaning questions about his absence. I can’t remember the last time I came home and went to church and Shane wasn’t with me. Evidently everyone else noticed that, too. One of the major downsides of small-town life is everyone knowing your business. It hasn’t yet hit the gossip mill that we aren’t together anymore, but it’s sure to spread like wildfire now.
I exhale in relief when Mom slides into the pew beside me. The grilling is over. For the moment, anyway.
As the choir fills, the banging of the door at the back of the church turns nearly every head in the building. My blood boils when I see Tori, my ex best friend, duck and walk quickly down the aisle toward the front. Toward me.
Surely to God she doesn’t have the audacity to come sit with me!
And yet, she does. My mother shifts her legs to the side to allow Tori to pass. I do not. I keep my back straight, my feet planted, and my eyes trained straight ahead.
When she sits down beside me, I scoot a fraction of an inch toward my mother. I hear Tori’s sigh, and I grit my teeth.
“Really? This is how you’re going to act? In church?” Tori whispers.
As much as I’d like to say to her, as much as I’d like to blister her ears, I keep my mouth shut and ignore her.
“Nice. Real Christian of you, Laney.”
I turn my blazing eyes on her. “You are telling me what’s Christian?” My laugh, though soft, is discernibly bitter. “Oh, okay.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You won’t even give me a chance to explain. You’re judging me without knowing all the facts.”
I whip my head back around to look at her. “I don’t need an explanation, Tori. I found you in bed with my fiancé. Unless you have a twin that I don’t know about, I’m not interested in your explanation.”
“It’s not what you think, Laney,” Tori says, her eyes pleading with me.
“I might be the preacher’s daughter and I might be tame by some people’s standards, but I’m not an idiot. I know what I walked in on.”
“You think you know what you walked in on,” Tori replies.
Suddenly, I’m tired. Tired of feeling hurt. Tired of feeling betrayed. Tired of trying to figure out the why of it all. Tired of feeling . . . less. Shane wanted a wild girl. He found one. End of story.
It just sucks that it was my very best friend in the whole world.
“It’s done, Tori. I’m over it. Over Shane. Over you.” I turn my attention back to the choir. I school my features to look politely interested, something I learned to do years ago so my father wouldn’t fuss at me for misbehaving in church. But inside, there’s a hole in my heart. I don’t know if she can hear me, and I don’t really care when I add, “It’s time to fill my life with different people. People who don’t lie.”
Despite the fact that I’m still aching over what my best friend and my fiancé did to me, the first person to pop into my head is Jake Theopolis. He doesn’t lie about who or what he is. What you see is what you get. Plain and simple. He’s a bad boy, yes. But he’s also a breath of fresh air. And my stagnant life feels very much in need of just that.
* * *
I’m glad I drove to church. This way, I can escape just after Daddy closes the service. I can get away before anyone else asks me about Shane, and before Tori can catch me.
I drive through town, not really thinking of where I’m going. I only know two things: I don’t want to be at church and I don’t want to go home. But what does that leave? As I drive aimlessly up and down the streets, through a town full of people I’ve known most of my life, I feel completely and utterly alone.
After half an hour of wasting gas, I hear the ding of the low-gas alarm, signaling that I have five miles left before I’m empty. I pull into the parking lot of Big A Grocery and turn around, heading back down route sixty, the way I’d come.
As I pass the fire station, a familiar Jeep catches my eye.
Jake.
My heart speeds up. How did I miss that before?
Several guys are standing just inside the huge, open bay door, gathered beside a bright red fire truck. I crane my neck to see if one of them is Jake, but I pass too fast to get a good look.
I glance in my rearview mirror, hoping to get a glimpse of him, but I don’t, and within a few seconds, they’re too far away for me to discern much, anyway.
Pressing on the accelerator, I try to put my curious desire to see Jake again out of my mind. But it’s no use. Within a mile or so, I’m hanging a U-turn in front of the Stop-N-Shop convenience store and heading back toward the fire station to make one more pass.
This time when I go by, the guys are dispersing. I slow down a bit and watch two men back toward some cars parked in the right side of the front lot. My stomach does a little flip when I see Jake step around the corner at the mouth of the bay and yell something to one of the guys leaving. They all laugh, and the man nearest Jake jabs him in the ribs with his elbow.