The Bad Boy's Forever Girl

by Jessie Gussman

It was never easy trying to blend families. It was even harder when the families were so opposite. Their old man had managed to find some city woman with two preppy teen daughters. They were both older than Blade, but as he remembered, they were smart and popular, and he recalled them as slightly snobbish as well. But he was cognizant that that might be the attitude of a preteen, the boy that he’d been.

  He sure hoped people didn’t judge him based on what he was as a teenager. He’d learned a lot since those days.

  At least, he’d like to think he had.

  Back then, he knew who Libby was, but he wouldn’t have been interested in her. Not like he was now. And he saw that as a definite sign of maturity on his part.

  Foster’s jaw ticked. “I don’t know. I don’t care. They were oil and water before; I don’t think there can be anything different this time. But it doesn’t matter about my opinion. It just changes my plans, that’s all.”

  “What? About moving in with Dad while you renovate your house?” Blade drained the water bottle while Foster nodded.

  “Yeah. I have no desire to be anywhere near that zoo.”

  “Well, I doubt anybody will be too disappointed about that. Judy didn’t care for all of us anyway. She’ll be just as happy you aren’t there.” Blade didn’t think there was any bitterness in his voice. He certainly didn’t feel any. It was just a fact. She hadn’t cared for him or his brothers. But he had to give her credit; boys were a lot different than girls. At least, he and his brothers were a lot different than she and her daughters. And they probably overwhelmed her.

  She had at least insisted that they study and do their homework. Which was more than anybody had been doing for a while before she came. And now that he was older, he could appreciate what seemed like nagging and irritation at the time was probably born out of a desire to see them do well. Or at the very least not embarrass her. Whatever.

  “So what are you gonna do?” Foster’s foot came down, and he took the empty bottle from Blade.

  “About Judy? Nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I hardly ever see the old man anyway. Holidays. Occasionally a dinner. I can handle Judy for that long.”

  “About Libby, you idiot.” Foster rolled his eyes, unscrewed the bottle, and pushed the air out before screwing the lid back on.

  That was a whole different story. He did care about Libby. Quite a lot. But he didn’t know what to do about her. “I don’t know.” He figured he didn’t need to ask Foster what he should do. Foster would tell him if he had any thoughts. Any thoughts he did have, Blade would take carefully, anyway. What did Foster know?

  He shouldn’t be so frozen by the word “fake.” The relationship didn’t have to be fake, did it?

  He just didn’t know how she felt. And it mattered to him. So, it was hard to put himself out there.

  “If you guys are ‘dating...’” Foster used his fingers to do air quotes around the word. “Then maybe you should actually date.” He shoved the bottle in his back pocket. “I know that was kind of radical, wasn’t it?”

  “What would I do with a girl like Libby? She’s not like the girls I’ve gone out with.”

  “You haven’t changed. You are what you are. Why would you do something different because of the girl that you’re with?”

  “Because the girl’s different.”

  “You have to become someone else because you’re with someone different?”

  Foster said that like it was a horrible thing for him to change. He supposed if he were changing to try to get her to like him, that might be different. Or maybe, if he were changing because she thought he wasn’t good enough for her, that would be different as well.

  But when he thought about Libby, the changing he was thinking about was a change for the better. She inspired him to want to be a better person. That wasn’t a bad change.

  Although, if things didn’t work out between him and Libby, and he wasn’t really sure there was anything between him and Libby, would he still want to be a better person?

  He wasn’t big on religious hocus-pocus, but he knew that him being a good person shouldn’t be dependent on him being with a good person.

  It all seemed kinda complicated.

  “Not that I feel like I have to change. It’s not like I think she thinks I need to change. It’s that I want to be a better person because of her.” He shouldn’t say those things out loud. Although he knew his brothers would never betray his trust on purpose. They might tease him about it when she was around. But he could handle that. Still, it felt new and delicate, and he didn’t really want to have the eyes of the world on it right now.

  “Well, maybe Bram can help you then. I don’t know what the highbrows do for a good time. I do know Chad just called about his truck, and he wants to come pick it up. He was hoping you were done with it. I told him you were. I didn’t see any point in going to get you out from underneath this truck so you could just talk to him on the phone and tell him his truck was done. I also told him what the bill was. He said he’d bring a check.”

  Blade nodded. The motor work he did on the side didn’t have anything to do with the welding shop. It was his own little side business. And he enjoyed it. He probably would never make a living out of it. Not like welding.

  Foster continued, “He said there was gonna be some street racing in the dip this weekend. I kinda figure Libby hasn’t seen anything like it, and if she’s going to have anything to do with you, she probably should.” He shrugged as he started to walk away. “But I guess it’s up to you. If you’re too good to do the street racing thing anymore, I guess you guys can go play bingo at the fire hall.”

  Blade snorted. Bingo at the fire hall didn’t sound too bad—with the right company. Blade couldn’t really see Libby there though. She looked more like she belonged in some Victorian parlor, doing needlework and sipping tea.

  Yeah, he was probably reaching a little too high if he thought he was gonna have anything with Libby.

  That didn’t keep a man from dreaming though.

  He finished welding the brace and went through the rest of the day. He hadn’t really figured out what he would say to her. But he figured to do it while walking her home.

  It was Thursday, and he was going to ask her for Saturday night. And yeah, he’d take her to see the street racing. He’d take her on his bike. He figured she might as well know who he was right off. Nothing so far had seemed to scare her away. Not that she had declared undying love for him or anything, but she allowed him to hold her hand every night while they were walking home from the Richmond Rebels’ shop. She knew what he did all day. And she didn’t seem ashamed.

  His hands were sweating, and he wiped them on his jeans as he walked to the counter after work. Both of his brothers had cut out early. Foster had taken care of Chad and his truck. Blade had been working, but he looked over to see that Libby was giving Chad the bill to sign.

  So Foster had gotten her involved in it, too.

  Now Libby knew that Blade did some work on the side. She probably couldn’t tell from the bill that she’d given Chad, if she’d even bothered to look at it, the exact kind of work he had done.

  It would’ve just been the list of items that he’d used, along with hours. An invoice. Similar to the one that they gave for welding but without the Richmond Rebels’ logo on the top.

  Foster was gone before Blade had a chance to ask him what he’d said to Libby, if anything.

  He leaned on the counter as Libby gathered up her stuff. After the first three times, he’d quit asking if he could walk her home, and she just seemed to assume that was what he was there for.

  Chapter 12

  Libby hummed a little to herself as she gathered up her purse, her lunch bag, and her half-drunk water from the refrigerator. She’d thought that Blade would walk her home once or twice and get tired of it. But he seemed to enjoy walking with her. And she certainly looked forward to it at the end of the day. The way her hand would slip into his, and how he’d hold it like he didn’t
want to let it go.

  Sometimes they talked, really, most of the time they did, but there were a few times when they walked in silence and it felt right. She hadn’t felt like she needed to chatter, and he hadn’t seemed like he felt awkward.

  She wasn’t sure, exactly, how much of it was because of Rick Brannon and how much of it was because Blade wanted to. But she wasn’t going to upset herself by trying to figure it out.

  She straightened, turning and smiling at him.

  Normally, he seemed cocky and confident. Maybe a little arrogant. It was his bearing, and maybe a little his personality. But it wasn’t immature, the way she might have expected.

  She admired confidence.

  Today though, his eyes were cast down. He wiped his palms on his jeans, shifting from one foot to the other.

  She almost laughed out loud when she thought, Is he going to break up with me?

  Ha. Was it a requirement of fake relationships that they had to break up? She really didn’t know. And she had to keep reminding herself that it was fake, because she wanted it to be real.

  “You ready?” Even his voice wasn’t as confident as it usually was. Pitched a little lower maybe.

  She turned slowly, straightening as much as her leg would allow, took one step so that she stood opposite him across the counter, and narrowed her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  He was gonna drop a bomb on her. Maybe she would walk home by herself and have a chance to recover.

  His lips tilted. “How did you know something was going on?”

  “Because of the way you’re acting.” She couldn’t really describe the body language she was seeing. It wasn’t something she thought of in terms of words, but more the subtle signs she saw, and how it registered in her brain.

  He huffed out a breath and tilted his head. “I know we’re supposed to be having this relationship. We agreed to it. But I wasn’t sure exactly what it looked like...and I wanted to ask if you wanted to go watch some street racing with me on Saturday night.”

  In all the time that she’d known Blade, she’d never seen him look so insecure. And of course, the answer in her mind was a resounding yes. But the word didn’t come off her lips, because she was studying him, trying to figure out what exactly was going on.

  She had a thought that she hadn’t considered before. With the time he’d spent in prison, and being out on parole, had he not dated much?

  But that didn’t sound right, because she’d seen him with a lot of different girls. But then she considered Clarice, who had come into the shop and asked Blade.

  Maybe, with the time he’d been in prison, combined with the way girls didn’t seem to be shy about walking up to him and asking him out, maybe he didn’t do a lot of the asking himself?

  “What?” he asked, straightening from the counter and pushing away, like he was backing up in order to avoid her. Avoid her hurting him? That seemed odd, but it kinda fit with what she’d been thinking.

  “What had your eyes all wide and your mouth dropped open?” His head tilted. “I asked a question. You give an answer. You’re kind of acting like this is something you really have to think hard about. If you don’t want to, just say no.”

  “I want to. Yes. Please. I really want to go out with you on Saturday night. I have no idea what street racing is, but I’ll watch rocks race if it means you’ll do it with me.”

  Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so adamant about convincing him that she wanted to be with him. She definitely showed him a little more of her heart than she wanted him to see. Or maybe than she was ready for him to see.

  “Rocks racing?” he asked with his head still slightly tilted. He gave a fake sketchy smile. “Someone never took a shop class in high school?”

  “That has nothing to do with anything,” she said with a sassy toss of her head.

  “You would have learned something about simple motors. Which rocks don’t have. And maybe even a little bit about a drivetrain. Which, again, rocks don’t have. And maybe it was in history where you learned that the Neanderthal invented the wheel. Which, again, rocks don’t have. All that science that you missed.” He smirked at her.

  “High school was a really long time ago. I can’t be expected to remember everything that I learned.” She crossed her arms over her chest. There wasn’t too much that she enjoyed more than bantering with Blade. She could pretty much say anything, and he got her. It was a good feeling.

  His lips pursed. “I don’t think anybody’s expecting you to remember everything, sister. Just the basics. Wheels, motor, drivetrain. That’s what it takes.”

  It was her turn to purse her lips. “Transmissions, turbos, exhaust. Those would be helpful too.”

  “Considering that you work in a welding shop, you learned something from somewhere.”

  “I thought at first you were making moonshine on the side, but I’ve been looking at the invoices when they go out.” She raised her brows at him.

  “Well, since you know the words, think it’s about time you get a wrench in your hand and start doing a little work. There’s no reason why you can’t build one yourself.”

  She shook her head, dropping her arms and moving around the counter. “I’ll stick with flowers. I like to make things pretty.”

  She hadn’t been bragging or anything; she was just stating a fact. It wasn’t that she didn’t think she could put a motor together or anything like that. And she’d try to do it, if he really wanted her to. But it just wasn’t an interest that she had. She’d rather picture flowers, and look at a vase, and try to arrange them in a way that was as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

  She’d gone around the end of the counter and expected him to turn to her, taking her hand as he usually did.

  But he was looking at the area behind the counter. He nodded, seeming to search for words. “I can see that. I’ve noticed, I guess. Just not enough to say anything. You have made it look a lot nicer here.” He waved his arm around. “Everywhere. You’ve got flowers in the bathroom. And some kind of cutesy soap dispenser that matches the picture on the wall. And you’ve got green stuff growing there, and whatever kind of flowers those are, stuff on the windowsill. Doesn’t look cluttered, it just looks pretty.”

  He turned her. “I like that. You didn’t come in and make a big bunch of changes, you just added your touches, which makes everything look pretty and homey. It’s not exactly how I picture a garage. But it makes me smile when I see it. Thank you.”

  His words gave her a weightless feeling inside and kept her from being able to keep her lips from doing anything but turning up and smiling big. “I had no idea you noticed. Thank you for saying so. That means more than I can say.”

  He stood, staring at her while she stared back as the seconds ticked by, and she didn’t even really know how much time passed.

  It felt like there was some kind of new understanding between them that wasn’t there before. Or maybe not understanding so much as a new mutual respect. That they both had things that they were good at, and they each respected the other’s area of talent. Even though those areas were worlds apart.

  Taking a motor apart and putting it back together so it ran faster and hotter didn’t have anything to do with taking a few flowers and some silk and lace and making a room look comfortable and inviting.

  To be honest, they’d just highlighted the differences between them. But they seemed to have said without words that their differences didn’t matter if they each respected what the other one was born to do and be.

  She felt like that was the conclusion they’d come to about each other.

  She finally blinked and pulled her eyes away. Maybe, since he’d finally asked her out, he wasn’t going to walk her home.

  She cleared her throat and didn’t look at him. “I, uh, I guess I’ll head home.”

  She started to move.

  He touched her arm. He’d never touched her anywhere except her hand, and
it startled her. She froze.

  “Just now, I have to admit, I wasn’t really thinking about walking you home. There’s a lot of other things I’d like to do. I don’t think any of them are a good idea right now though. If I promise to just hold your hand, will you still let me walk with you?”

  Her brows furrowed, and she blinked up at him. He was almost implying that he... She wasn’t sure. She didn’t understand what “other things” were.

  Was he talking about cars again? She was pretty sure he wasn’t asking to be taught how to arrange flowers.

  But there was some kind of depth to his gaze, some kind of heat in his eyes, and it made her think that he wasn’t referring to either cars or flowers. The best way to find out an answer was to ask a question. But she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to ask that one.

  His eyes flickered, and she thought maybe she was taking too much time to answer his question. Taking too much time to think about the question she wanted to ask. She dropped it.

  “It’s the one thing I look forward to every day. Please.”

  “Are we on for Saturday night?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate with her answer. She didn’t want him to think that she had to think about whether or not she wanted to go out with him.

  “It’ll be dark before they start racing. You want to eat first?”

  “Sure.”

  “Any place in particular?”

  Again, he looked a little insecure. Like maybe he thought she might need some kind of fancy restaurant? That was laughable.

  “I can cook for us if you want me to. Or I could make something we could pack and take somewhere.”

  She had no idea. The dating that she had done had consisted of dinner and a movie. And there hadn’t been a lot of that. She didn’t exactly scream dating material. Her first husband and she hadn’t dated much. Maybe that had been part of their problem. He hadn’t given himself a chance to figure out he didn’t really like her.

  The flower shop wasn’t exactly a great place to pick up dates. There were a few eligible men around her age at church, and she’d been out with most of them. Typically, they didn’t ask for second date. Maybe Blade wouldn’t either.