One Broke Girl

by Rhonda Helms

  My last grocery trip had required me to do so, but thankfully, I hadn’t known the people around me.

  “Twenty-nine dollars and eighty-eight cents,” the girl declared, and I almost sagged with relief as I handed her my debit card then started throwing stuff in plastic bags.

  “You’re gonna squish your bread like that,” Gavin said with a laugh. He stepped over and helped me get the food sorted into several bags.

  I swallowed as I caught a whiff of his cologne. The urge hit me to lean closer, nuzzle my nose right under his ear and breathe deeply. The man smelled like sex and heat and all those delicious things you wanted to savor. “Thanks.”

  I got my receipt, loaded the bags on my arms and waddled through the double doors, the chilly air smacking me in the face. I couldn’t believe it was end of October already. Halloween was in a couple of days, and I needed to find money to get candy for handing out.

  My hands and forearms began to ache as I gripped the bags and made my way toward the bike. Okay, this wasn’t my smartest idea ever. Next time, I was going to ask Natalie to give me a ride. Her car was a bit of a beater, but at least she had one. Unlike me.

  A nondescript navy blue car slowed beside me, and when I glanced over, I saw Gavin in the driver’s seat. “Need a ride?” he asked as he peered through the passenger-side window at me. “Where are you parked?”

  I cleared my throat and fought the embarrassed flush crawling up my cheeks. “I have a bike. It’s right down the road here.” My arms trembled, and I shifted the bags.

  “Let me help, please.” He stopped and jumped out of the car before I could say a word, grabbing the bags from my hands.

  “Really, you don’t have to,” I sputtered.

  He ignored me and got the ones on my arms then opened the passenger-side door. “Where do you live? We’ll drop these off, then I’ll take you back to your bike.”

  My heart clenched at the kind gesture. Really, I wasn’t sure how I was gonna get all of this home anyway. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” I gave him my address, and a few minutes later, we pulled up in front of my duplex.

  I leaped out and ran to the back of the car, and when he popped the trunk, I grabbed as many bags as I could, but he took the rest and followed me to the door. I keyed it open and led him inside as I tried not to be embarrassed about our less-than-stellar residence. I was acutely aware of the peeling paint in the hallway that I hadn’t finished patching up yet, the faded furniture, the undecorated walls.

  “I love the fresh paint in here,” he said as he set his bags down on the kitchen table. “Good color choices.”

  I blinked and faced him after I unloaded my own bags. “Thanks. We just painted it last weekend.”

  “Ready to go back for your bike?”

  “I can walk,” I replied.

  He took a step closer, and his eyes darted to my mouth for a fraction of a second before locking on to my eyes. “I insist. It’s no bother at all.”

  The ride back to the bike was filled with a hum of tension. I couldn’t help but watch the way his hands gripped the steering wheel, the angle of his jaw, the long stretch of his legs. Everything about him was purposeful, methodical. So, so wrong to study him this way. I knew it was bad and I couldn’t stop myself.

  He stopped the car where I told him to. I moved to get out then paused. Grabbing a dollar out of my purse, I handed it to him with a grin I hoped looked sassy and casual. “A tip for your stellar service.”

  To his credit, he didn’t say a word. Just folded it in half on the long side, stuffed it into the pocket of his shirt like a stripper would do and then gave me a wink.

  I burst into laughter and got out of the car. “Thanks again.”

  The whole ride home, I couldn’t get those sexy eyes out of my mind. Gavin had worked his way under my skin, and it was harder and harder to tell myself I wasn’t interested in him.

  Chapter Eight

  I hated plumbing.

  Twenty minutes after the plumber left, I was still staring at the kitchen sink in disgust. Stupid landlord—that plumbing issue had gotten worse and I’d told him, but he said it wouldn’t be fixed until the middle of November. By then, our duplex would be floating in inches of water.

  So I’d grabbed my phone, gone online and tried to research how to fix it myself. Seemed simple enough from the videos. But I’d ended up bunking it up. Badly. Water had gushed from the sink in an unstoppable flow, much to my horror.

  Thankfully, a plumber had been able to come by and fix it—and even more thankfully, he’d taken pity on me and not charged me weekend rates, which were astronomical.

  I moved to the couch and rubbed my aching feet. This week had been crazy busy. The office cleaning was going well; Bianca and I had worked out a system so we got in and out of the offices in record time. But it was still tiring. And last night I’d done some pizza deliveries, running around town on my bike while bearing a pizza bag over my back. The work wasn’t the most fun ever, though I did enjoy having tip money.

  However, some great news from this week had made everything better—one, our condo had a legit offer good enough for us to pay off the mortgage, buy out Mom’s portion of the place (based on advice from the family attorney), sock aside a chunk of money to live on for a few months and buy a cheap car.

  Soon, I could retire this bike to the garage and be back to driving. It was going to be total bliss, and I didn’t even care how crappy the ride would be. A real car, powered by fuel and not my legs.

  The other piece of good news was Dad had found a job on Tuesday—he was painting houses with an old buddy from when we’d lived here before. In fact, Dad was at a job site this evening, working on the interior of a sprawling home over the next couple of weeks. Of course, now when he got home, he practically fell right into bed, exhausted. But it was work, and we were both glad our situation was improving.

  I got up to put on yoga pants when the doorbell rang. Had the plumber forgotten something? I opened the door and saw Bianca and Natalie standing there with massive grins on their faces.

  “We’re taking you out,” Natalie declared. “So put on something cute.”

  My stomach sank in disappointment. “Guys, I’d love to, but I had to just pay a plumber to fix a stupid mistake I made and I can’t afford it right now. Maybe next weekend?” By then, I’d have another paycheck and could free up a few bucks for coffee.

  “We’re paying,” Bianca said as she shoved her way in. She had on an old punk band T-shirt and a pair of leopard-print pants, and her dark hair was twisted in a retro pinup style. “And we won’t take no for an answer.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t keep taking money from you all.”

  “It’s not taking,” Natalie said gently as she led me into the living room. “It’s friendship. We want to spend time with you. And you need to get out of this house. It smells like bologna and desperation.”

  A laugh slipped out of me. “Yeah, I had a lazy dinner.”

  “So it’s settled.” Bianca went into my room, and I heard my closet doors open. “Oh wow, those shoes are hot. I’m so jealous. I need to borrow these sometime. They’re close enough to my size that I can make it work.”

  I walked in there with a grin. I knew exactly which ones she was talking about—my sassy red heels. I couldn’t bear to part with them. Not that I’d had an occasion to wear them around here. “What are we doing, anyway?”

  Bianca stuck her head in my closet then backed out with a skin-tight bright green shirt she thrust at me in triumph. “Wear this paired with flats and skinny jeans. It’s perfect.” She grinned. “We’re going bowling.”

  If my friends in New York City could see me right now, they’d die laughing. Even as I had that thought while slipping on a pair of bowling shoes, my mind stumbled. Were they my friends anymore? It had been almost two months since I’d moved, and the contact had all but stopped, despite my efforts to send somewhat regular updates. Even Fiona had moved on; I barely rated a response nowadays, other
than the occasional braggy picture.

  The dismissal hurt, truth be told, but I tried to not focus on it. Well, whatever. If nothing else, this whole situation with my mom had taught me the value of real friendship—it was in these two girls sitting beside me, laughing and talking with me about how much fun we were going to have.

  And they were right. I hadn’t been to this bowling alley—or any, in fact—since fifth grade, but right now I didn’t care if I looked dumb or unskilled. I was desperate for fun. A night with the girls was exactly what I needed.

  “Okay,” I said as I sat up and smoothed my jeans-clad thighs. “What now? Do we pick out bowling balls?”

  Bianca checked her phone then said with a smirk, “We will in a minute. Just wait.”

  “For what? Are we supposed to start at a certain time or something?” We already had our lane; it was just waiting for us, the pins at the end seated perfectly on the wooden strip.

  “For them,” Natalie said as she waved toward the bowling alley entrance. “Hey, honey! We’re over here.” She whispered to me, “I hope it’s okay that we asked Gavin to hang with us. You’re good with that, right?”

  I spun around and saw two guys walking with Gavin, all of them talking among themselves and laughing. My heart slammed against my ribcage, and I tried to fight that attraction that made my senses open up, my lower belly throb.

  The guy on the right, a bulky blond dude in the tightest shirt I’d ever seen, did that guy head-nod thing when he saw Natalie.

  I disliked him instantly. Something about his smirk, his body language struck me as smarmy and self-focused. Not to mention those absurdly big gym muscles bursting out of his tiny sleeves.

  Bianca leaned toward me as the guy came over and received a kiss from Natalie. “That’s West,” she said, obvious scorn in her tone. “Natalie’s boyfriend. He’s a total penis. I can’t stand him, in case you can’t tell.”

  “Never would have guessed,” I replied, and she elbowed me in the side.

  While the three men went to the counter to get shoes, Bianca asked Natalie, “Hey, who’s the other guy? I haven’t seen him before.” She kept her gaze locked on the jeans-clad backside of the third guy, a shaggy-haired redhead.

  “One of West’s gym buddies. His name’s Rich. He’s nice—I’ve met him a couple of times. I figured he’d make things even.”

  “Hm.” Bianca scrutinized him then shrugged. “Okay. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

  Ah, crud. Realization hit me—we were all coupled. The girls had set this up as a sort of triple date: Natalie and her boyfriend, Bianca and a blind date, and me with Gavin. My friend.

  My very, very hot friend.

  The guys returned and donned their bowling shoes. Gavin’s eyes raked over my shirt and jeans, and a flush worked its way across every inch of my flesh. That was not a friendly look.

  “Hi, Anna,” he said in a warm voice.

  “Hi, Gavin,” I replied. My pulse roared in my ears as he stood and peered down at me. “Are you a bowling fan?”

  “Honestly? I suck at it.” He chuckled and shrugged. “But it’s a good excuse to drink a beer and wear these sexy shoes.” He lifted his foot in the air and wiggled it so I could check out his red-and-blue bowling shoes.

  “Sorry, but mine are slightly sexier,” I said, pointing at my feet, which were clad in two-toned brown bowling shoes.

  Our group moved en masse to the massive rack holding dozens of bowling balls. I must have picked up twenty balls, trying to decide which one would be the perfect weight to use. Then we proceeded back to our lane, and West jumped up before anyone else could start the game.

  “Watch this, babe,” he said to Natalie as he walked with swagger to the lane.

  “Get ready to be schooled by the master, everyone,” Bianca said under her breath.

  Natalie shot her a glare, and Bianca gave a wide-eyed shrug in response. Then she turned to talk to Rich before Natalie could chew her out.

  “How are you liking Edgewood Falls so far?” Gavin asked me in a polite conversational tone. From the seat beside me, he leaned back, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His thigh brushed against my knee, and I froze before I could do anything dumb like rub back.

  “It’s much more charming than I remember,” I admitted. “When I was a kid, I didn’t appreciate how pretty and homey it was here.”

  The background noises faded away as each pairing fell into easy conversation, only broken by our rounds of bowling. I learned about Gavin’s favorite music—rock—and shared with him my favorite food—lasagna. We discussed why cell phones, especially texting, were making society less social and more awkward. We talked about the space program and how we wished there were more funding to explore the universe. Our conversation flew all over the place over the next half hour, and I almost hated to interrupt it with bowling.

  Gavin had been right; he was terrible at the game. But so was I. Most of my throws went right into the gutter, and he teased me about it mercilessly.

  “Like you have any room to talk, Mr. Two On The Last Round,” I retorted with a smug grin. “You’re only ten points above me.” I sat down and said, “So…can I ask you a semi-nosy question?”

  His brow rose. “Nose away.”

  “What made you stay here? Why didn’t you ever move?”

  He paused and studied my face for a moment. His eyes were completely unveiled before me, and I could practically read the thoughts flickering in his mind. He was trying to decide if I was asking a sincere question or going to make a point about him being a small-town guy. Apparently he settled on the former. “I like it here. Yeah, it’s not the biggest place in the world. But if I’m ever in a hard spot, my neighbors will lend me a hand. I feel like I belong. There’s a sense of community here you don’t find in a big city.”

  Hm. Good points. I loved city life. And to some degree, I liked the fact that I was just another anonymous person in New York—that my business was my own and I didn’t need to worry about strangers gossiping about me.

  But back in the city, I hadn’t found friends like Natalie or Bianca. And the cost of living was so expensive there that we couldn’t have made it work, even if we could have stayed. I wouldn’t have seen Ohio transition into autumn. Wouldn’t have learned the satisfaction of hard work.

  And I wouldn’t have gotten to know Gavin.

  “Do you like teaching?” I asked.

  “Love it.” His answer was quick, honest. “It wasn’t what I wanted to do as a kid, but I’m glad I found a job I enjoy. I’m lucky.”

  Interesting. My curiosity was piqued. “What did you want to do instead?”

  “You’re up, Gavin,” Rich said in a sullen voice as he thunked in the seat beside Bianca, whose face quirked with amusement. Apparently his round hadn’t gone well. His score popped up on the screen—yup, only three pins knocked down.

  Gavin stood, grabbed his bowling ball and got to the top of the lane. I saw his back muscles flex beneath his shirt and my mouth grew dry. He drew his arm back, released the ball, and it went flying down the center of the lane.

  “A strike!” Natalie cried out, clapping. “Kick ass, Gavin! First strike of the night!”

  He sent her a warm smile, and then his eyes swept over me in an almost physical caress. “Mr. Two On The Last Round gets a name upgrade,” he murmured.

  I swallowed as the searing heat from his thigh poured into mine. Our legs were pressed full-on together now. “You got it, Mr. Big Ball.”

  His lips twitched. “Not quite what I had in mind.”

  I stood and grabbed my ball. Aimed and flung it. It thunked and bounced but stayed in the lane this time, and I knocked out five pins. “Whoo!” I said as I thrust my arms in the air and wiggled my body. “Suck it, haters. Check out that foxy action.”

  Bianca snorted. “Someone’s getting drunk on power.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Knock down those other five pins and then we’ll talk,” Natalie said with a mock eye roll, but she shot me a smile.
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  The ball returned to me. I stopped, drew in a slow breath. Tossed it down the lane…and knocked down four.

  Hell, that was still nine. I’d take it. I strutted back to the seat.

  Gavin’s grin was wide. “Well done.”

  “So, you didn’t answer my question,” I said breathlessly, leaning toward him. I allowed myself the momentary luxury of breathing in the scent of his skin, his cologne. Funny how I had grown to crave that particular smell. “What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

  “A bull rider.” His delivery was so deadpan I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

  “For real?”

  He nodded, and I had an image of his powerful thighs straddling a massive bull as he gyrated, in command of the wild beast. That totally alpha male image made my sex throb. “That’s quite different than herding five-year-olds,” I said in a hoarse tone. Shit. I cleared my throat.

  His gaze raked my face, and his eyes grew hooded. “I have lots of varied interests.”

  “Me too.” Including a serious interest in him.

  West won the game, and the shit-eating grin on his face was massive.

  Bianca stood and stretched. “Okay, I’m done bowling. Let’s go get our drink on.”

  Natalie nodded and threaded her arm through West’s, who tugged her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Okay, I might not like the guy but at least he was somewhat affectionate with her. Rich raked his gaze over Bianca. I could almost hear his thought process—a buzzed Bianca would probably be frisky.

  “Can you guys drop me off on the way home?” I asked. “I don’t feel like going to the bar tonight.”

  “Aw, come on,” Natalie said with a small pout. “I’ll get you a drink if you want.”

  I walked over and hugged her. “Thank you,” I whispered in her ear. “I really needed this night out. But I think I’m ready to go home.”