Typeractive Tales: A Collection of Clean Short Fiction
Page 21
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After stashing my belongings in the front passenger seat of my car, I rounded it and sank down into the plush seat, reliving my brief conversation with Matt shortly before he and Evie took off for their honeymoon. Although he hadn’t been in on the deception like everyone else, he’d sought me out to apologize for pushing me toward Tim. “If you really don’t want him in your life, I’ll support your decision. You’re a terrific sister. There’s a guy out there who is just as terrific.”
“Thanks, Matt,” I whispered, hugging him to show my appreciation.
Now, as I turned the key in the ignition, nothing happened. “Great.” I banged my hand against the steering wheel in frustration, staring in disbelief at the battery light on the dashboard.
“What’s wrong?”
That baritone could only belong to one person. I looked up into Tim’s warm brown eyes. The planes of his face were softened by the street lamp behind him. “My car won’t start. Dead battery.”
The corners of his scrumptious mouth lifted. “I can help you with that.”
He parked his truck closer to my car and lifted the hood. I lifted mine as well. In no time, he had the jumper cables hooked up. “Okay. Give ’er a try.”
The car started without any problem. When I got out of the car to thank him, I was struck by the intense way Tim watched me. What came out instead was, “I thought you left.”
He shrugged. “I just went for a walk. I needed to work off my frustration at seeing you with that other guy.”
“Um, yeah. About that…I’m sorry I spoiled your evening with my stupid comments.”
To my surprise, Tim said, “That’s okay.” Then he drew closer to me, the scent of his spicy cologne bringing back happy memories of dreamy kisses. “You had good reason to. I was a jerk.”
“Yes, you were.”
He burst out laughing. “That’s one of the things I love about you, Brooklyn. You’re not afraid to speak your mind.” He let go of me so abruptly, I wondered if I should have kept my mouth shut.
But when I realized Tim’s purpose was to turn on his truck radio, I relaxed. He quickly found a Country music station playing a love song by Brad Paisley. With a bow, he asked, “May I have this dance?”
I stared at his proffered hand, debating. It had been a long day. Tim gently placed his arms around my waist just like he’d done earlier tonight and led me in a slow dance. We swayed to the rhythm in comfortable silence. I remembered how good it had felt to be held in his arms.
“Nice wedding tonight.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So when will it be our turn, Brooklyn?”
When Tim’s quiet question finally penetrated my foggy brain, I asked sharply, “Our turn? Last I remember, you weren’t ready to take that step.”
“I am now.”
I pulled away from him. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“What wasn’t a good idea was walking away from you in the first place.” There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice.
“Why did you do it, Tim?” My question came out as a whisper.
With a feather-light touch, his hand cupped my cheek. He brushed his thumb against my flushed skin. My heart beat an erratic pattern. Tim sighed. “I was afraid.”
I scoffed. Mr. I-Can-Fix-Anything afraid? “Of what?”
He looked away and swallowed. “We spent most of our time together going places and doing things. We talked a lot, but you might have noticed there were times when I shied away from discussing certain topics in the news or from a book you were reading. Whenever you’d try to give it to me to read, I tried to pawn it back off on you without making it look like I had a problem.”
Was I hearing him right? What kind of a problem? “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t because I never explained. Now, after a heavy amount of persuasion from Matt, I realize how foolish I was to try to hide it.”
“You mean…” I hesitated to draw my own conclusion, hating how far off base I’d been the first time. “You have a reading problem that you didn’t want me to know about? You weren’t just going after another girl when you broke up with me?”
With a tender look, Tim said, “You thought that’s what I was doing? Oh, darlin’, I’m sorry I confused you. Brooklyn, you know how I love to work with my hands. I love creating stuff. I’m not the studious type. The fact of the matter is that I never will be because I have dyslexia.”
So that was it. Understanding washed over me. “I wish I had known. You should have told me.”
“I agree. But you come from a well-educated family and I will likely never hold a college degree. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
“Probably as badly as I feel to know that we’ve wasted all this time. Tim, I can’t fault you for something like that. You work harder than any man I know. And I am totally amazed by your woodworking talent. It truly is a gift.” While he mulled that over, I decided to go for broke. “You know, Tim, I spouted off that garbage about being over you earlier because Matt cornered me. But the truth is, I never stopped loving you.”
Tim smiled. “Good. That means we’re even. Because I never stopped loving you, either.” He leaned down and captured my lips with his. His kiss was everything I remembered and more.
I know what you’re thinking and you’re right. Maybe this wasn’t the most romantic backdrop for a kiss with our car engines running, and me standing in my stockinged feet, but for me, Tim’s kiss brought me home.
And I never wanted to leave again.
LAURA L. WALKER
Laura L. Walker grew up in southern Arizona where she spent her summers swimming and camping on the Graham Mountains. Although her life has definitely not gone as planned, a few of Laura's childhood dreams have actually come true, including publishing her two novels, Pierced by Love in 2014 and The Matchup in January 2015. She met her husband, Rob, at Northern Arizona University, where she earned a Bachelor of Science in Elementary Education. They and their six children are avid readers and alas, a few of her children have even picked up the writing bug, which validates Laura's vivid imagination! Laura can be contacted at www.lauralwalker.com.
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