“Well, hello, Jesse,” she said, her voice icy. “I see you met my cousin.”
“Yeah, she seems nice,” I answered honestly, but also as an accusation against Charity.
Charity rolled her eyes and leaned against the doorframe. “She’s sweet all right, a real southern belle.” Distaste laced her words, as though there was something wrong with being nice. “I’ll have to see what I can do to transform her in just a week.”
Yeah, Charity was good at instigating trouble. Exhaling loudly, I shook my head. She wasn’t worth the effort of a snappy retort. Instead, I stepped past her, using my elbow to close the door in her face.
Kayla must be kind if Charity didn’t like her. It made me want to get to know her better, if only to upset Charity’s world. Then I remembered … nothing could come of us. Kayla lived three states away, so why bother?
Chapter 2 - Kayla
I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, hoping Jesse wouldn’t think I was simple. It just seemed easier, and there was still a lot of work to do.
Then again, maybe he didn’t want me to continue helping him. He probably didn’t like girls who weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty or break a fingernail. He’d asked where Charity was; she was probably more his style.
My cousin’s every guy’s type, the total antithesis of me. She’s tall and thin with dark brown, straight-as-a pin hair and baby blue eyes to boot. I, conversely, am not tall, only five-four according to my driver’s license. I’m not overweight, but nobody would classify me as thin. Too much time spent doing sports and riding horses ever to be skinny. I’d heard somewhere that “athletic” was the polite way to describe my build.
I stared at my reflection in the windowpane as I watched Jesse wash out his hair with the water hose. I did have good skin and a unique shade of green eyes, characteristics I’d inherited from my father. My skin tanned easily and, unlike Charity — who’d gotten burnt the first day of spring break — I was already sporting a great tan, even though I’d smothered myself with sunscreen.
My hair was a mess, though. I’d had it looking perfect in long spirals before Jesse had arrived this morning, but the Florida humidity had wreaked havoc on it. And after an hour in the Florida sun, I’d had to tie it up on the top of my head. No way would Jesse want to come to the party with me tonight, but I had to try. The last thing I wanted to do was go to a party with Charity and her friends and end up being the outcast. Last time Dad and I had visited, and I’d let Charity talk me into hanging out with her, she’d ignored me all night. I’d found out later that the only reason she’d even asked me to go with her was because Gram had said she couldn’t go out without me.
While I poured two glasses of lemonade, I watched Jesse run his fingers through his hair, and then rinse his hands again. Was he just trying to cool down, or did he care what he looked like too? I’d been worried when Gram mentioned that she wanted me to meet the boy who’d been helping her since Gramps had died. But Jesse was as cute as Gram had said. Who knew she had such great taste?
At first I wasn’t sure she was right about him being nice, though. I hadn’t even breathed a word to him when I stepped out of the house this morning, and he’d yelled at me. Although, he’d thought I was Charity at the time and lightened up when he realized I wasn’t. Weird to think that he might not like Charity, since everyone seemed to fawn all over her.
I carried the tray of sandwiches, two bags of Doritos, and two glasses of lemonade to the front porch.
Jesse was sitting on the front stoop where I’d sat earlier. Even as dirty as he was after working a couple hours, I realized he wasn’t just cute; he was as good-looking a boy as I’d ever seen. No wonder Charity was ticked that I’d woken up before she had.
His hair was dirty blond, like mine, and wild; it stuck out in every direction, but it worked for him. His eyes were a cross between blue and green, almost aqua. He was tall, but not too tall … just shy of six feet, I’d guess. And since sweat plastered his shirt to his body, I couldn’t miss the definition in his chest and arms. His body didn’t look like the football players at my school who spent all day at the gym, but more like someone who worked hard for a living. He didn’t look like a scroungy teenager; he looked like a man. Gram had said that he was still in high school, though.
The moment I sat down beside him, he instantly scooted away.
“Really …” I grumbled, frustrated by his actions when I’d been nothing but polite, “is there something wrong with me?”
“No. ’Course not. You’re—” He blinked several times. “I just thought I might smell.”
“Well, I don’t smell you. Even if you do, you probably don’t smell any worse than I do.” I laughed lightly, and thankfully he laughed too. “Dig in. You must be starving.”
“Thanks.” He took a bite, then looked around as though struggling for something to say. Gram had said that Jesse was friendly, that even after he finished work they’d sit and chat for hours sometimes. At the moment, I was having a hard time picturing that, since every time he’d spoken today, he’d stuttered, as though not knowing how to finish his thoughts.
Well, at least I could thank him for helping my grandmother. “You’re welcome. They’re just PB&Js. I got in late last night, so I didn’t have a chance to go grocery shopping, and Gram doesn’t keep a lot on hand. But, it’s the least I could do.”
His mouth full, Jesse tilted his head in question.
“As a thank you,” I clarified, “for helping my grandmother the last couple of years. It’s been rough since Gramps died.” Realizing my words were already rambling, I took a bite of my own sandwich.
After swallowing, he said, “Your grandma’s nice. She’s one of my favorite clients. I keep telling her what she needs to do so I don’t have to come back constantly, but I’ve a sneaking suspicion she likes me to work for her.”
I covered my mouth to conceal the bite I’d just taken. “She does.”
Jesse wiggled his eyebrows, revealing the first sign of the friendly boy my grandmother liked so much. “Ah, so she has a crush on me, is that it?”
“No.” I giggled. “She says you’re honest and sweet and one of the only people who talks to her.” I gulped. Here goes nothing, I thought. I’d never asked a boy out before, but how hard could it be? Maybe if I hinted first. “That’s why I brought you lemonade this morning … so I could meet you.”
“And here I thought your grandmother was trying to set me up with you or Charity for some reason; I knew that couldn’t make sense.”
Surprised that he’d waved off my comment so nonchalantly, but then said it wouldn’t have made sense that Gram would have tried to set us up, I stopped eating and just stared at this dense boy. Maybe my father was right. Maybe all teenage boys were mentally challenged until they got through puberty. I’d yet to meet a boy I was remotely interested in, but Gram had given me hope. Meeting Jesse this morning had escalated that hope. He was the kind of boy I wanted, the kind of boy I’d be proud to introduce to my father. A boy who wasn’t afraid of hard work, just like my father. But now I might have to play tag-along with Charity all week, which I was sure she’d be ecstatic about. Not!
And it was all this stupid boy’s fault … for not being interested in me.
Chapter 3 - Jesse
Did that mean no one had forced Charity to come out? I wondered, then looked up to see Kayla staring at me. Wait. Had Kayla said she wanted to meet me? I was too busy chattering nervously to register what she’d said. I’d never been good at meeting girls. Now I wished I’d been paying attention.
“Why?” Kayla finally asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Umm … Why what?” I asked, confused.
“Why wouldn’t it make sense that my grandmother would try to set me up with you?” she reiterated, her tone reflecting her hurt expression. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you, Kayla! I’m the problem. I’m not exactly your or Charity’s brand of guy.”
As she
’d done earlier, Kayla folded her arms across her chest. “How do you figure that?”
What was this girl saying? Was she interested in me? She was still staring at me, her eyes boring into mine. And for the first time, I realized how stunning she was. Even under the dirt. Maybe because of the dirt.
Her eyes were striking, like the color of the water in the Caribbean. Her hair was, well, earlier it was nice, I remembered. Now it was a rat’s nest on top of her head, but even that looked good on her. A few curls fell around her face and down her back where they’d escaped her loose knot. She wasn’t tall and lanky like Charity either; she was petite and shapely.
Carried away with my appraisal of her, I stopped short. I hadn’t answered her question. “Look at me, Kayla. I’m a lowly worker,” I explained, trying to get across that I wasn’t good enough for her. Not yet anyway. One day I’d be good enough for a girl like Kayla.
“Do I look like I don’t work?” she snapped.
I exhaled, exasperated. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. Am I your type?” Did she enjoy slumming? Was she a rebel attempting to upset her parents? I wasn’t willing to be someone’s “pet” again. Been there, done that. No thanks!
“I don’t know if you’re my type or not. I don’t even know you. I’m just trying to have a friendly conversation, and you’re being a snob.”
I nearly choked. “I’m … being … a snob?”
“Yeah. You’ve made up your mind who I am by where I’m staying and who I’m related to, without taking the time to get to know me. That’s being a snob.” She wadded up her napkin and jumped to her feet.
“Wait,” I said, grabbing her hand and coaxing her back down to the step. “You’re right. I guess I am being a snob. I just never thought of it that way. Please stay.”
Settling back down, she narrowed her eyes again, but then a smile slowly inched up one side of her face, as though she’d just decided on a course of action. “Okay, Jesse. How ’bout I start?” She paused for only a second, then angled her body toward mine. “What do you do for fun when you aren’t snaking drains or clearing gutters?”
I couldn’t conceal my smile. Kayla was something else entirely. I shrugged. “Not too much. When I find time, I love to go kayaking, but I’ve been too busy lately. I’m trying to work as much as I can now so that when I start college in the fall, I won’t have to work as hard.”
“You’re graduating this year?” She lifted her cup and took a sip.
“Yeah. How ’bout you? What grade are you in?”
Kayla looked down at her lap. “Junior. I turn eighteen in September, though. I was one month away, so they held me back from starting kindergarten. It’s been kind of nice. I was always ahead of the other students.”
I bent my head to catch those beautiful eyes of hers. “I turn eighteen in August. I just made it, so I was always the youngest in my class. Not fun when you’re the smallest, but I finally caught up to most of the kids.” I smiled as she looked up. “So it looks like we have one thing in common; we’re practically the same age.” This simple revelation made me feel all tingly inside. For some reason, I wanted to have something in common with this totally uncommon girl.
“Will you go to a party with me tonight?” Kayla blurted out.
Again, I almost choked. She wasn’t shy one bit. “Uh … I’m not sure … who else is going?” I didn’t go to many parties. Too much of a chance I’d see my ex-girlfriend.
“Other than Charity,” she shrugged, crinkling her brow, “I don’t know. And I really don’t want to go, but Gram won’t let her go without me. If I don’t go, Charity’ll be ticked, but I really don’t want to go with just her friends.”
Kayla didn’t have to say anything else; her wide eyes were doing a fine job of pleading with me. She didn’t know me, but for some reason it seemed as though she wanted to, and I realized I wanted to get to know her better, too. Or more likely, she just didn’t want to be a third-wheel on Charity’s chariot.
I had no desire to hang out with Charity’s friends, but how could I deny this beautiful girl, who clearly wasn’t a snob, her request? How many girls were even able to ask a guy out on a date? A thought suddenly occurred to me. What if she hadn’t meant “go with her” as a date?
“You mean like a date?” I blurted out the same way she’d asked me. Okay, that wasn’t very suave. It’d sounded right in my head.
As she’d done earlier, she dropped her head. “It doesn’t have to be. I clean up pretty good, though.”
I’d offended her again. I felt like slapping myself. But then I’d look as moronic as I felt. “I’m sorry, Kayla. I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to go with you. I’m just trying to understand.” Her eyes narrowed again, giving away her frustration. Abruptly, I made my decision. “Yes, I’d love to go with you.”
She smiled then, a heartbreaking smile, and I felt my insides warm. This was a mistake. I was going to get hurt badly. I could feel it.
Kayla leapt up. “Good. Let’s get back to work so we can finish. You have more jobs today, right?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “But I can knock them out quickly. What time is the party? Should I pick you up, or meet you there?”
Her eyebrows furrowed. Kayla was very expressive. “I didn’t tell you where the party is yet.”
I smiled. “Charity’s parties are always at the same place.”
“Oh … that’s right. I always forget that my cousin is one of those popular girls. The kind of girl everyone knows everything about. You can meet me there around eight; no sense in upsetting Charity. It doesn’t sound as though you two get along.”
“We don’t. She is a snob,” I said, hoping not to further offend Kayla.
“Yeah, I know.” Conversation over, I guessed, as she skipped away, heading toward the rake and trash bags.
I had a difficult time paying attention to my work. I was also more careful about how I tossed the crud from the gutters over the ledge. Whenever there was something large and unrecognizable, I warned Kayla. Repeatedly, I tried to convince her that she didn’t need to help, but thankfully, she wouldn’t listen, which meant I got more time with her.
After finishing all the work, Mrs. Johnson signed the invoice for the plumbing job, then handed me cash for the extra chores. “Thanks, Jess!”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Johnson. And thank you!” As soon as she left, I turned back to Kayla. “Here. Half of this is yours.” I held up the cash, but Kayla turned up her nose as though I’d offended her again.
“If you like,” she said, her bottom lip jutting out slightly, “you could spend some of the money on me this week.”
I smiled at her candor, which was surprisingly appealing. “I think I’d like that, Kayla.” I walked off to my truck, glancing back as I opened the door, surprised that she was still standing there, watching me. “I’ll see you tonight.” I hopped in my truck and backed out, watching as she offered me a friendly wave, which made my blood race through my veins as if she’d kissed me.
For the first time in a long while, I felt downright happy. I cranked up the music and sang loudly as I headed to my next client. Yeah, I was going to get hurt badly by this girl. What was I thinking? This couldn’t be more than a rebellious fling. Why was I pretending this was more than it was?
It’d taken me way too long to recover after the last time this happened. Why would I subject myself to this again?
Darkness overshadowed my good mood. Maybe it’d be better if I didn’t show up tonight. Kayla would be gone in a week anyway; it certainly wouldn’t cause her grief if I canceled our impromptu date. She’d meet some richer, more suitable guy within minutes of being at the party. She was very friendly.
Still brooding, I finished my last job of the day. I wanted to go; I wanted to see her again. No matter how much I fought with myself, I couldn’t get past the simple fact that I was being a snob. I was unfairly comparing Kayla to Charity and my ex-girlfriend.
Maybe I’d just go and watch. If she was already havi
ng a good time, I’d leave. After all, I knew Charity’s friends, and I had no desire to fraternize with the likes of them, especially if there was any chance Morgan might show up.
Chapter 4 - Jesse
The last three hours I’d debated whether I should go or not, but Kayla’s eyes had won out. The compassion I saw in them, the honesty, and something else … a goodness I couldn’t explain. Besides, I owed her for doing half the work today. It wouldn’t be right not to repay her by doing the one thing she’d requested.
Reluctantly, I drove across the causeway leading to Clearwater Beach and hung a right at the roundabout. Since it was spring break, the traffic was bumper-to-bumper. But North Beach was mostly rich locals, families that lived in Palm Harbor and Tarpon Springs but maintained a beach house to get away for the weekend. I could understand a house in the mountains, but a house forty-five minutes away to escape their stressful week?
I twisted the rearview mirror toward me and glared at my scowling reflection. I was a snob. I hadn’t recognized it before. I was judging all rich people by the few wealthy people I knew. They weren’t all bad. I’d hung out with plenty of rich guys in school who’d always been nice to me, and I’d gone over to their houses for parties when we were younger. It just seemed in the last year I hadn’t associated with them. Maybe that was my fault, though. I was always working, so they’d finally stopped calling.
I parallel-parked my truck along Mandalay Avenue. I knew the place where Kayla had instructed me to come; it was where all the kids went. It was one of the few places on the beach where the houses were vacation homes or rentals, not hotels or condos. Residents rarely messed with us as long as we weren’t drunk and disorderly. I hadn’t been to a party in months, though. Not since I’d broken up with Morgan.
The white sugar sand was still warm from baking in the sunshine all day, but the breeze coming off the water felt refreshingly cool. Streaks of pink and purple swept across the sky where the sun had set in the last hour. Tonight would be clear with an incredible view of the stars. Perfect for a stroll on the beach. Most guys I knew would jump at the chance of a spring-break fling, especially with a girl who looked like Kayla. But I wasn’t most guys. I couldn’t understand wasting time and money on someone I didn’t want to be with more than a few dates. The real problem was, Kayla didn’t live here, and if she was half the girl she seemed, I’d want more than a few dates. Still, I couldn’t find it in me to stand her up.
Love Like Crazy (Crazy Love Book 1) Page 2