“Yes.” Her cheeks were flushed. “I filled out an interest form, and they emailed me back. They’ve emailed me a couple of times now. I think they may want me to come up for an interview.”
“In San Francisco?”
“Yeah.” Her chin lifted. “In San Francisco.”
Was it healthy for your heart to be this irregular? Jeremy felt it going a million miles an hour, then it felt like it stopped completely. That couldn’t be healthy.
“That’s… fantastic.” He swallowed hard. “So exciting. What’s the job?”
“They’re filling a number of positions, but this would be blogging and influencer outreach. I’d be evaluating their social media network and pairing the right influencers with companies that fit their style and budget audience.”
Oh shit. “You’d be an amazing fit for that.” She was perfect for that. She was fantastic. They were going to hire her as soon as they set eyes on her.
Tayla finally met his eyes. “Thanks. You’re like the first person who’s been happy for me.”
“Of course.” He glanced around the table. All eyes were laser focused on him. He kept his smile plastered on. “I mean, how could we not be happy for you?”
You’re a schmuck, Jeremy Allen. And the woman you’re half in love with has been looking for a way out of town while you’ve been playing some stupid long game.
“Everyone knows Tayla is fucking amazing,” Spider said. “And she could do whatever she wants. But no one wants her to move back to that shithole city.”
“San Francisco is not a shithole.” Tayla glared. “It’s a beautiful city.”
“Whatever,” he muttered.
Daisy said, “Spider doesn’t like any city, Tayla. It’s nothing about San Francisco in particular.”
“Not true. I like Milwaukee.”
“Really?” Jeremy snapped out of his frozen state. “Milwaukee?”
Ethan took a drink. “That’s random, dude.”
Spider shrugged. “I like what I like.”
“Question eighteen is next. Which famous lead singer was born Farrokh Bulsara?”
“I know that one,” Ethan said. “Give me the paper.”
“Everyone knows that one,” Daisy whispered. She wrote Freddie Mercury on the answer form.
Ethan, Daisy, and Spider started bickering over the answer sheet as Jeremy and Tayla fell silent. Jeremy forced the smile to remain on his face the rest of the night, and Tayla avoided his eyes.
Jeremy finished his beer and made his excuses while Tayla was in the bathroom. He had to get out of the pub. He couldn’t bear the pressure in his chest another minute. He walked out the door and into the cool night air, taking a deep breath as soon as he was alone.
Tayla was leaving. If it wasn’t for this job, it would be for another one. She wasn’t settled in Metlin like he thought she was. She was looking for a way out.
So where the hell did that leave him?
Jeremy tried to clear his mind as he grabbed the green jug halfway up the bouldering wall. He glanced up to see Cary to his right, already nearing the top of the wall. They’d come to the climbing gym at the last minute to find the top-roping area full with a beginner class, so they decided to spend their time practicing on the bouldering wall.
The large plastic hold he’d grabbed with his left hand was called a jug. He could fit nearly his entire hand around it. He stretched his right leg out and pressed his toe to the wall, shifting his weight so he’d be able to boost his body up to the small hold—or crimp—he needed to grab with his right.
“You all right?” Cary had reached the top and was watching him.
“Fine.” Jeremy grunted and used his left leg and torso to reach up. His fingers curled around the crimp for a sweet second before his knuckles gave out.
“Shit.” He felt himself slip. He fell backward, bracing himself as he landed on the thick mats at the base of the bouldering wall.
Cary was already climbing down. “You okay?”
Jeremy shook his hands. “I’ll be fine. I shouldn’t have tried a V3 before I started conditioning more.”
“Legs?”
“Yeah.” His legs were weak from the winter. He hadn’t been biking or lifting as much because he hated working out at the gym. It left him unbalanced on the wall. “I should have stuck with the twos this early in the year.”
Cary hopped off the wall and dusted his hands off. “I wondered where your head was when you hopped on that three.” He grabbed a bandana from his pocket, wiped his forehead, and shook his silver hair out before he tied it back to keep it out of his eyes. “Hell, that route I took was a hard V1. We just got here, man. Still warming up. What’s bugging you?”
Leave it to Mr. Nakamura to know something was bothering him.
Cary Nakamura was older than Jeremy by at least fifteen years, and he’d been Jeremy’s shop teacher for a couple of years in high school. Jeremy had reconnected with him on a mountain bike trail after Jeremy had moved back to Metlin. Cary had been the one to suggest Jeremy try rock climbing, and they’d been climbing together ever since.
They were still beginning climbers, but they pushed themselves every summer. Rock climbing had become Jeremy’s driving passion when he wasn’t at work.
“Tayla’s interviewing for a job up in the Bay Area,” he said. “I just found out last night.”
Cary’s eyebrows went up. “Just interviewing?”
“Yeah.” He walked to the bench on the far wall to grab his water bottle.
Cary shrugged. “So she’s interviewing. She might not get it.”
He took a long drink. “Whether she gets this job or not, it’s a problem.”
“Because that means she’s looking to leave.”
“Yeah.” He sat on the bench and watched a group of college-aged girls approach the wall on the right side. They were smarter than him and started up a V2 route. “I thought she liked Metlin. I thought she wanted to stay. She’s been picking up work, building a business, living with Emmie. Why would she move back to San Francisco?”
Cary sat next to him and opened his water. “I think she likes it here, but she’s not from here. She doesn’t have any roots, you know. No family. She might have just wanted a new scene for a couple years. Now she’s ready to go back.”
Jeremy turned to him. “That leaves me shit out of luck, man.”
“Yeah, it does.” Cary took a long drink. “Should have asked her out a year ago.”
“I’m not twenty-two. I’m not interested in just hooking up anymore. And Tayla was pretty vocal about not wanting a boyfriend.”
The corner of Cary’s mouth turned up. “And you thought you’d be the one man who could change her mind?”
“Don’t make me sound like an asshole. It wasn’t like that.” It was kinda like that.
“That girl…” Cary grinned. “She’s a riot. Cracks me up every time I see her. But she’s like the walking definition of a free spirit, man. If you had wedding bells in your head, I don’t know if you ever stood a chance there.”
“You know what? People are full of shit. They say they don’t want a commitment or to be tied down, and then they fall in love and get married. So call me a hopeless romantic—”
“You’re a hopeless romantic.”
“I’m not the one hung up on the same woman for five years when she won’t even give me the time of day, so shut the hell up.”
Cary grimaced. “Fair.”
Jeremy stared at the bouldering wall, watching the group of girls shouting encouragement as each one carefully chose holds and followed their route.
When he’d first started climbing, he’d been so enthusiastic he fell constantly. He wanted to try everything and do everything at once. Bruises and a fractured tibia had forced him to take a step back and reevaluate his strategy.
Jeremy decided to tackle rock climbing the same way he had school or getting his degree or building a business. Make a plan. Stick to the plan. Don’t rush. Don’t get overenthusiastic.
That approach in climbing had led to success. He was a far better climber than the crazy kid who’d thrown himself up rock walls and hoped he might stick.
He’d met Tayla and decided the same systematic approach would work. But maybe what he needed was less of his careful plan and more blind enthusiasm.
Cary said, “You know, if you’re really into this woman, you need to forget about her moving away. Don’t think about it and just go for it.”
“And resign myself to getting my heart smashed when she leaves?”
“Will it be any less smashed if you don’t even try?” Cary leaned forward and looked into Jeremy’s face. “At this point you don’t have anything to lose. The worst that could happen is she moves away. And right now that’s what she’s planning anyway.”
Jeremy considered it. The idea had merit.
Cary continued. “She does like it here, but like I said, she doesn’t have any roots. There’s nothing holding her in Metlin.”
“I know. That’s the problem.”
“So… maybe try giving her a reason to stay.” Cary shrugged. “Like I said, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
Jeremy wrapped a towel around his waist as he left the upstairs bathroom and heard his grandfather shouting from below.
“Dinner’s ready!”
“I’ll be down in a minute, Pop.”
His grandfather never came upstairs anymore; he lived his life in the kitchen, the small front room, and the first-floor bedroom that overlooked the back garden. The upstairs bedrooms and bathroom were all Jeremy’s.
The only downside to this was that his pop spent a lot of time yelling up the stairs. Jeremy would have known dinner was ready from the smell of tri-tip. He didn’t need his grandfather hollering at him.
Of course, he didn’t tell his grandfather that. Especially not when the man cooked dinner at least three times a week.
Jeremy pulled on a pair of jeans and a comfortably worn T-shirt. His hands were still sore from the climbing gym, and his back ached. His legs would hurt tomorrow, but the soreness was welcome. His body was waking up, stretching like the trees, getting ready for the summer.
He walked downstairs and found a sliced tri-tip on the kitchen table along with a pot of beans simmering on the stove.
Once a cowboy, always a cowboy.
“Want me to make a salad?”
“Not for me.” Pop stood at the stove and spooned pinquito beans over his steak.
Jeremy threw a steamer pack of vegetables in the microwave. “You know, fiber is a good thing.”
“That’s what the beans are for.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to share a room with you, old man.”
Pop chuckled as he sat at the table. “I’ll eat your carrots or whatever you’re making. Just don’t expect me to make them.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned over and kissed the top of his pop’s head. “Thanks for dinner, Pop.”
“How’s Cary?”
“Good. His oranges are all in.”
“Tangerines?”
“Just starting.”
Pop grunted. “Water’s looking good this year.”
“Yeah, he’s not sorry to see the rain go though. Or the cold.”
“It was a cold winter.” Pop dug into his steak. “He plant anything?”
“I don’t think so. Just pruning the oranges this year. He did mention putting in new acreage, but I think he was talking about the Oxford ranch.”
Pop shook his head. “That girl gonna ruin that ranch.”
“She’s not ruining it; she’s planting trees.”
His pop grunted. In Gus’s opinion, anything that displaced cows for crops was a crying shame. He’d had to do it himself and always regretted it. According to him, Melissa Rhodes was ruining the Oxford ranch by cutting back on cattle and turning the most fertile parts of their land into orange and tangerine groves.
Jeremy served himself beans, grabbed the veggies out of the microwave, and poured them in a cereal bowl. He put the lot on the kitchen table and sat across from Pop. “You say grace?”
“Waiting on you.”
Jeremy lowered his head as his grandfather blessed the meal. “Amen.” He put a scoop of vegetables on Pop’s plate.
His grandfather raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t.” Jeremy took two. “They’re good for you.”
“I don’t remember you being my mama.”
“Do you want a lecture from your daughter-in-law? Eat some vegetables. You can pick out the lima beans if you want. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I’ll eat the green stuff if you get me a beer.”
Jeremy rose. “Done.” He grabbed two cans of Metlin Brew from the fridge and set them on the table.
His pop looked at the can with suspicion. “What’s this?”
“Local beer, Pop. We’re supporting Metlin businesses.”
“Do I want to know how much this cost?”
“Not when I’m the one buying it.” Jeremy cut his steak and devoured it. He was hungry. “You meet with your chess club today?”
“No. Frank had a gout flare-up.”
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“We fishing this weekend?”
“I don’t know. You want to fish?” His brain kept circling back to Tayla. “Pop, when you were talking about wooing the other day, what did you mean?”
Pop opened his beer. “Why you asking me now?”
“Because Tayla…” He took a deep breath. Let it out. “She’s probably interviewing for a job up in the city.”
“San Francisco?”
“Yeah.”
Gus shook his head. “What’s that girl thinking? That’s no place to live. Can’t see the damn sky in the city.”
“She likes it, Pop. Now talk to me about wooing.”
Pop leaned his elbows on the table. “What are you thinking? You finally gonna get off the fence? Now that she’s getting ready to move? Don’t you think you’re a little late?”
“Are you willing to help me or not? I need to get down to wooing quickly if I’m going to convince Tayla to stay in Metlin.”
“You think you can woo that woman into staying in this town instead of moving to San Francisco?”
“I can try.”
Gus nodded slowly, a smile curving the corner of his mouth. “You get your confidence from me. It’s good you asked.”
Jeremy felt a kernel of dread. “You know what? I can do this. I’m just going to ask her out and see what happens. I mean, what’s the worst—?”
“You gonna leave this to chance? Not for this girl, Jeremy Allen. We’re gonna make you a plan.”
Plans were good but… “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”
“Probably the same reason I feel you’re gonna mess it all up,” Pop muttered. “Now finish your dinner and I’ll teach you how to woo.”
Chapter Five
The buzz of Ox’s tattoo needle hummed in the background, Emmie was helping an older customer find a new mystery series, and Tayla sipped a latte while she sat on a barstool and messed with the accounts.
She and Emmie had made up because of course they had. They’d been best friends for years. Emmie apologized for not taking the news about Tayla moving well and promised not to sabotage her interviews.
But Tayla could tell her best friend was still displeased about the idea of Tayla moving.
She was totaling end-of-month merchandise sales in the computer when Jeremy walked through the door.
She looked up and gave him a smile. “Hey!”
“Hi.” The corner of his mouth was curled up and his beard was freshly trimmed. He wore a pair of dark jeans, purple canvas Vans, and a black Citizen of Wakanda T-shirt under a grey vest.
Damn, the man was hot. Just… hot. Mouthwateringly, infuriatingly attractive on every level.
He leaned over the counter and grabbed her cup of coffee. “Latte?”
“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes when he took a drink.
“Did you come over here just to steal my coffee?” It was presumptuous and… also kind of hot. “Or did you need to talk to Em?”
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Farmers’ market on Saturday and movie marathon on Sunday with Ethan, Emmie, and Ox. Want to join us?”
“I have Sunday dinner in the mountains with my parents, but how about we go out Saturday afternoon after the market?”
“Yeah, that sounds fun.” The email notice binged on her computer, and Tayla looked at the screen. “Who all’s coming?”
“Just you and me.” He grabbed a hard candy from the bowl by the register. “Pick you up at four?”
Tayla looked away from her computer. “Wait, what?”
“Four works for me.” He popped a yellow hard candy in his mouth. “Does four work for you?”
“When?”
“On Saturday?”
“Um…” What was happening? “Yes?”
“Cool.” He waved at Ox. “I’ll text you details tomorrow. Hey Ox, Cary said he wanted to talk to you about a new piece for his leg or something. You super busy right now?”
“I have time next week.” Ox was changing needles and looking over the back of his customer with a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “Tell him to call me.”
“Will do.” Jeremy backed out of the shop, opening the door as an older woman walked in with two small children. “See you, Tayla.” He winked. Then he was gone.
Tayla’s eyes went wide. “What just happened?”
Emmie walked from between the shelves with a stack of books in her arms. “Did Jeremy just ask you out on a date?”
Ox was laughing from his side of the shop. “That was awesome.”
“No, it wasn’t!” Tayla turned to Emmie. “He ambushed me.”
“He did.” Ox bent over his customer’s back. “And it was awesome. Ted, I’m starting on the fill. Don’t move.”
The man sucked in a breath. “Okay.”
Emmie cocked her head at Tayla. “I thought you’d decided you weren’t going to date anyone in Metlin to avoid the—quote—‘small-town busybodies and their stupid wedding-bell assumptions.’”
Hooked: A Love Story on 7th and Main Page 5