Mr. Maybe

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Mr. Maybe Page 6

by M. Kate Quinn


  He shrugged. “I can move in whenever you’re ready. My stuff’s all packed.”

  Kit folded the check. “Want to see the loft?”

  “Yes,” he said. He followed her across the room, and then he took the steps behind her.

  With each step she wondered what her butt looked like and cursed again the snacking habit she’d adopted since The Incident.

  At the top Shane glanced around the loft, taking in the space. “This is plenty of room.” He walked across the flooring. “Nice hardwood.”

  She pointed to the banister that looked out onto the vaulted living room. “I figure we could put some blankets or something over this to give you more privacy.” She pointed to the door across the space. “And there’s a bathroom in there.”

  “I’ll be sure to leave the bathroom tidy, too. Like a Boy Scout.”

  She laughed. There was something so charming about this fireman and definitely not in a Boy Scout kind of way. She tried to shake it off. Her immunity already showed signs of wear, and she needed to repair it like a busted seam. She’d keep the fact he had a girlfriend in the forefront of her mind like a talisman, wear that fact around her neck like a necklace of garlic, and she’d consider Shane Dugan a vampire. Yup, that was how she’d do it.

  Chapter Nine

  By Saturday morning Shane had all his necessary stuff loaded into the back of his truck, and his furniture and the plastic buckets stuffed with nonessentials were in storage. He was ready.

  He’d tried connecting with Dana twice, and both times she wasn’t around. The time difference was a problem, sure, but something niggled at his brain. Over the last few weeks their conversations had become hurried, superficial, or wound up with a terse ending.

  Maybe he was just thinking too much, but he couldn’t help it. Their lives were on opposite ends of the world in more ways than geography. He looked over at his laptop that sat on the passenger seat next to him like a companion. Tonight in his new digs, he would try to reach her again.

  He drove down the gravel driveway to the salt-box-style house with the nut-brown, weathered siding that would be his home for the next three months. Grateful for the opportunity, he had to admit the circumstances of living here were more than unusual. But he didn’t have a problem acting like they were boyfriend and girlfriend. If he were honest, Kit Baxter was one of those girls he’d have gone for in a big way if they’d met in another time and place. Although Dana was a blonde, and he liked blondes, he really had a thing for brunettes. Kit’s hair was long and sleek. She could rock one of those shampoo commercials. The shiny, deep brown strands swished around her shoulders when she moved her head. His fingers itched to just reach out and touch it.

  That made matters tricky. He wasn’t a two-timer, never had been, and he wasn’t about to cross any lines now. But, man, she was appealing. Hey, he was human. He was glad his captain, Hop, was her friend and neighbor and he’d invited him to come by some nights to watch a ballgame. Between that and hanging at the firehouse, he’d put space between himself and his new landlord with the eyes like Bambi and the swingy, dark hair.

  But so what if she was good looking and that in front of her ridiculous cousin, they’d have to play pretend. He smiled, remembering her adamancy of no more lips to the side of her head or any other place on her body. Her vibe was as clear as if she had secured herself behind an electronic fence. Keeping that in mind, he relaxed. He wasn’t about to get himself zapped.

  As Kit directed, he went over to Hop’s house to pick up his key. He knocked on the front door, and Hop immediately opened it, big smile on his face.

  “There he is,” Hop said as he swung the door wide. “My new neighbor. Welcome to the river.”

  “Thank you. It’s going to spoil me living here on the waterfront knowing I’m headed for the high-rise apartment building on the Green.”

  “I bet.” Hop pulled the house key from his shirt pocket. “And whatever you do, don’t lose this thing.” He placed the key in Shane’s palm. “She’ll have your head.” He chuckled, and his eyes were filled with affection for Kit. “Want to sit a minute?”

  “Can’t now, Hop. I’ve got to unload my stuff.”

  “Want a hand?”

  He didn’t want to impose on the guy, but somehow Shane thought he’d insult him if he didn’t accept his offer. “Sure thing.”

  Together the two men unpacked Shane’s vehicle. They carried the boxes, shirts on hangers, shopping bags of his shoes, towels, and other things. Together they maneuvered his mattress and box spring up to the loft.

  When they were finally done, Shane saw that it was already five o’clock. Kit would be home soon. Home. Home with Kit Baxter. Trepidation trickled down his spine, like a bead of sweat.

  “Want to go get a beer, Hop? I’m buying.”

  “Ah, next time, Irish. I’m doing the late shift tonight, and I’ve got to get ready.” He gave Shane a light punch in the shoulder. “Keep your nose clean for these next three months so she doesn’t kick you to the curb. That girl’s no nonsense.”

  Shane laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He was tempted to tell Hop about their other arrangement, but he figured if Kit wanted Hop to know, she could tell him herself. He was pretty sure acting like a couple in front of her family wasn’t something she’d be broadcasting around.

  “You got everything?” Hop asked as he went through the front door.

  “Just have to get my laptop from my truck.”

  Shane followed Hop across the driveway. He opened the passenger door, pulled his laptop into his grasp, and tucked it under his arm. He checked his watch. “I think I’ll give Dana a try.” He tapped the laptop with his other hand. “She’s been hard to reach these last few days.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What do you mean uh-huh?”

  Hop lifted one shoulder, then let it fall. He shook his head. “You ever get tired of that computer being your girlfriend?”

  “It’s only temporary.”

  Hop walked toward his own house before he turned back to Shane. “You young kids today crack me up. I like my women where I can touch them.”

  A silver car pulled into the driveway, and Kit got out of the passenger side. She bid the woman driver goodbye, and slowly the car backed out. Hop had made it as far as his front stoop but didn’t go into the house. Shane focused his gaze on Kit as she strode across the gravel. She looked pretty today in a navy-and-white, pinstriped, summery dress and sandals that tied at her ankles. Her hair shone with a million facets in the late afternoon sunlight. What was she thinking with her mouth pressed into that straight seam? Her chest rose and fell in a deep inhale.

  “Hi.” Her voice was low. She uttered a nervous-sounding laugh.

  “Hi.”

  “So this is it.”

  “Moving day.” He punctuated the words with a nod.

  Without moving her head, she shifted her eyes in the direction of Hop’s house. “He’s watching, isn’t he?”

  He couldn’t help it. He laughed. The quirky relationship between his captain and his new landlord was interesting, and they weren’t fooling him with their snarky banter.

  She rolled her eyes and looked in Hop’s direction. “Are you just going to stand there?”

  “Hello to you too,” he said. He angled a thumb in Shane’s direction. “He’s all moved in. Between the two of us, it took no time.”

  ****

  She pinned on a smile, but it felt tight on her face. Right now she wanted to turn around, dash to her room, and lock the door. But she managed a nod, offered a lackluster “great.”

  “Well, I’ve got to run.”

  When Hop started to turn toward his door, her heart fell. Suddenly being alone with this virtual stranger was impossible to deal with.

  “Want to come over for dinner later, Hop?”

  “Can’t. I’m working tonight.”

  “Oh, okay.” She made sure her face did not show the disappointment. After Hop waved and went in thr
ough his screen door, she turned back to Shane, and her insides clenched.

  What was she doing? How had this become her new normal? She stole a glance of her tenant, then quickly looked away. What was going on behind his compelling eyes? Oh God. Those eyes and the cute fireman they belonged to would be living in her house. She hadn’t thought this through by any means. How would they do the day-to-day? The nighttime hours?

  “Well.” A sheepish smile only made his face more appealing.

  She repeated the word. “Well.”

  But neither of them moved an iota. They stood there in the driveway. With Hop gone into his house, they were alone to let their new status sink in like water to soil. They were instant roommates, a couple playing pretend, and two pieces to someone else’s puzzle.

  Chapter Ten

  Inside her cottage the walls felt as if they were closing in. This was going to be a long three months.

  Shane gave her a sheepish grin. “You feeling as awkward as I am?”

  “Yup.”

  “How’s Romano’s pizza?”

  “The best.”

  “They make a grandma pie?”

  “Yes. It’s, uh, my favorite.”

  “Okay, to celebrate moving-in day, let me get us a pizza.” He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and tapped his fingers on the screen. She wished she had something to do with her hands, too.

  “Um.” She didn’t want to start this arrangement off by doing dinners together. She wanted to draw a line between them from the get-go.

  He looked up from his screen. “What toppings do you like?”

  “What?”

  “Pepperoni? Peppers and onions?”

  “Oh,” she said. “Um, plain.”

  He tapped his screen some more, then slipped the phone into his back pocket. “They should be here in twenty minutes. I put some beer in the fridge. Hope that’s okay.”

  She looked at the refrigerator as if she’d never seen it before. “Sure.”

  “Want one?”

  He walked past her and went into the kitchen as if he lived here. Oh God. Not even an hour in and she was so filled with regret she might explode. She followed him into the kitchen, like a guest. He pulled a beer from the fridge shelf and looked up at her.

  “I don’t really like beer.” She stepped around him and peered into the cavern of the appliance. He had taken over a full shelf with his food supplies, all crowded in a haphazard fashion.

  “I, uh, see you’ve added some other items in here.”

  “Yeah,” he said as he twisted off the cap of his beer. “That okay?”

  She turned to face him. “Can I ask you why you have four bottles of ranch dressing?”

  He gave her a grin. “You know how it is. You go in the food store, and you can’t remember if you have dressing at home, so you buy another one.”

  “That doesn’t happen if you keep a list. I make lists.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She reached for the half-empty bottle of white zinfandel.

  “Ah,” he said. “Pink wine.”

  “It’s not pink.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Right. You don’t like pink.”

  Well, he retains information. That would be good for when they needed to recall details about each other for the big fat lie they were involved in.

  He took a swig of his beer, and she couldn’t help lingering her gaze on the strong muscles of his neck, his thick forearm as he held the bottle up to his mouth, the bulge of his triceps. When had she formulated an addendum in her resolve to hate men? Apparently, now she’d decided she could notice them.

  Kit went to the cabinet, withdrew a wineglass, and poured herself a measure. They needed to come up with some rules about space. She could not spend the next three months in the same spot in this house with this appealing fireman. She tried to have her mind chant that he had a girlfriend, as she’d promised herself she’d do. But it didn’t want to.

  He was looking at her in a way that threatened to turn her inside out, and she quickly lowered her head to study the fascinating floor tiles. “I don’t mean to be difficult. About the, um, stuff in the fridge.”

  “You’re not. Hey, this is your place, and all of a sudden you’ve got company. I get it.”

  She lifted her gaze to meet his and could not look away. Her ridiculous insides did a shimmy. She sipped her wine.

  “Um, you have any paper plates?”

  “Yes.” She went to a cabinet and opened the door. “And I’ll get some napkins. And we’ll need the pizza cutter,” she said without looking away from her task.

  “I’m pretty sure pizza comes already sliced up.”

  She flashed him a look. “I know that. But sometimes I like to cut a slice in half.”

  Shane shrugged, and she ignored the look on his face. “Okay. Where is it?”

  She pointed without looking. “In that drawer.”

  He went to the drawer and slowly and respectfully pulled it open.

  She watched him peruse the contents of the drawer. Everything was lined up in perfect order the way she liked it, but right now her fastidiousness seemed silly.

  “Wow,” he mumbled under his breath. “This could be a surgeon’s tray of kitchen gadgets.”

  “It’s just more efficient, that’s all.”

  Shane tilted his head and chuckled. “Measuring spoons in size order. Knives with all handles facing the same way, twisty ties in a little cup.” He withdrew the pizza cutter and held it up to her. “Efficient.”

  “Are you picking on my junk drawer?”

  “That’s a junk drawer?” He laughed.

  She cracked a smile. “I like order.”

  “So I see.”

  The doorbell sounded, and he went to retrieve their order from Romano’s. A couple of minutes later, he came back into the kitchen with a boisterous announcement of “Dinnertime!”

  He put the box onto the kitchen table and flipped open the lid. Half the pizza was plain, and the other half was covered in slimy-looking, wilted green peppers and translucent strips of onions, too reminiscent of the fateful chili dog she’d wolfed and then tossed into a trash can.

  “Bleh,” she said.

  “Oh, come on.” He lifted a slice into his hands.

  Her fingers curled at her sides. Did this guy believe in using utensils, or did he have to just touch everything?

  He nudged a slice with his fingertip. Did he plan to manhandle the entire pie? Her stomach flopped. What was next? Would he start licking all the slices?

  “You don’t like peppers and onions?”

  “Not on pizza.”

  “Try it.”

  She handed him a paper plate. Please don’t stand there eating over the box. “No, thanks.”

  She picked a plain slice he hadn’t yet touched and slipped it onto a plate sans spatula. When in Rome. But she didn’t take a bite of the pizza. Instead, she took a nice big gulp of her white zinfandel.

  “Okay,” he said after a swallow. “So Saturday is our first time to show your family how we’re a couple. Am I right? Isn’t that what I heard your cousin Cokie say?”

  “Her name’s Co-Co, short for Cordelia.”

  He shook his head. “How are you even talking to her?”

  Kit snickered. “I have to tolerate her. In my family we all make nice-nice. My mother and her sister, Co-Co’s mom, are so close, and I don’t want to be the cause of any divisiveness between them. So for my mother’s sake, I’m keeping the peace. Just getting through it.” She couldn’t believe how pathetic she sounded saying it out loud. “I realize it sounds lame.”

  “Okay, here’s what we do, then. We do our very best to be convincing so you get through the wedding festivities.” Shane looked at his watch. “And I’m supposed to FaceTime with Dana in a few minutes. I’ll tell her the story so it’ll be all on the up and up. She’ll be fine.”

  “Oh lordy, what are you going to say to her?”

  He shrugged. “Just the simple truth. One hand washi
ng the other. I’m pretty sure she’ll be cool about it.”

  “This is a disaster.”

  Shane tossed another piece of pizza crust on his paper plate. He wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin. “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. I’m just helping in a tricky situation. If I tell Dana the circumstances, she’ll understand.”

  Suddenly she wondered why he was so sure his girlfriend wouldn’t be bothered by his pretending to be involved with her. Would he tell this girlfriend there was nothing to be worried about because Kit was so undesirable? Why was she feeling off-put by this? What did she care? She was losing her mind.

  Her cell phone sounded, and when she slipped it from her pocket, she groaned. “My mother,” she said to the ceiling.

  “Game time.” He pushed up from the chair. “I’m going to make that call to Dana.”

  Kit put her phone to her ear and with her other hand opened the refrigerator door. She pulled the wine bottle out by its neck.

  Regina Baxter didn’t wait for a greeting but instead charged right in. “Kitrina, I’m going to pull your hair.”

  “Nice, Ma. Good to hear from you.”

  “Why do I have to hear big news about my only daughter from my sister? What’s the matter with you? I’m your mother. You only get one mother, Kitrina. You have news, I’m first. You don’t hide things from me.”

  “Ma, listen…” Kit poured another glass of the wine. “You’ve been on a cruise.” She took a sip. “So I wasn’t going to call you ship-to-shore for the status of my dating life. And it’s not that big a deal.”

  “No? What do you call living with a man?”

  Kit plopped down onto the wooden chair. “Okay, yes, he moved in…”

  “What’s his name? My sister said he’s a fireman, and she thinks he’s Irish.”

  “His name is Shane Dugan, and it’s true he’s a fireman, and yes, I’m pretty sure he’s Irish.”

  “You’re pretty sure? How well do you know this man that’s living with you? And is there a ring coming? No daughter of mine is just going to live with a man with no plan for the future.”

  She downed the rest of her wine. “He’s nice. That’s what I know about him, okay? He’s nice.”

 

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