Lovesick (Coffee Shop Series Book 2)

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Lovesick (Coffee Shop Series Book 2) Page 24

by Katie Cross


  Even now.

  His gaze tapered further. I swallowed a squeak of fear and the desire to ask if I could come inside. No, of course, I shouldn't ask that. I wouldn't let me inside if I were him. He hadn't let go of the door, giving me unparalleled access to his abs. By sheer willpower, I kept my gaze on his face.

  "What are you doing here, Stella Marie?"

  "I . . . I need some help. I heard you might have a cabin to rent."

  Confusion clouded his annoyance. "Who told you that?"

  No one, I thought. Just the hope deep in my heart and what I know of your world.

  "Oh, just driving through town." I waved an airy hand in the vague direction that I thought Pineville would be. "I need a place to stay and I'm willing to pay cash. Maybe just for a month or so?"

  His brow furrowed.

  Please, I thought. Please don't care about these details. You never have before . . .

  "Who in town told you to come here?"

  Dagnabbit. Of course, he had to ask questions now of all times. The conversation we'd had a few months ago when he said he wanted to start a ride-a-horse operation ran through my mind. He hadn't asked how much it cost to keep a horse alive or pay vet bills or bring hay into his canyon or any of that.

  No, he just found a horse he thought was handsome and wanted to try it out. Thankfully, I'd backed him out of the idea. He hadn't been happy at the time.

  Now he had to know who sent money his way? Mark needed money as desperately as I needed to disappear. Why didn't he take the offer?

  "$500 a month for a small cabin?" I said. Perhaps he'd be deterred away from how I came to know him and focus on the dollars. "I can pay in advance if you want the cash now."

  The cash burned a hole in the back pocket of my jeans, but I didn't reach for it yet.

  He leaned against the doorframe instead, seemingly unbothered by the misty fall air that flowed past him into the cabin. No one else had stirred inside, and I caught a vague peek of furniture and a can of something pried open with a spoon sticking out of it. Bachelor, I'd bet.

  "Why do you need a place to stay?" he asked.

  "Does that matter?"

  His brow lifted. "It does now."

  My nostrils flared. I wasn't good at this. Lying, deceptions, sneakiness. I just wanted to find a place where I could hole up and not see anyone for a while. Maybe I'd been naive to think this would be easy. To show up on his doorstep and ask if I could live with him? The man lived in the middle of a mountain canyon? No one drove out here unless they had to, which was perfect.

  My breath was shaky when I let it out. "I just . . . I need someplace to disappear for a while, and I've heard that you cabins to rent and no one comes out here."

  He snorted. "You're hiding."

  Yes, I thought.

  I didn't answer him out loud, just studied his face. Beneath all that beard and wild hair, I could sense a general kindness. His gaze had an edge to it, however. He straightened up. "Look, I'd love to help. I really would. Being the nice guy used to be my favorite thing, but I'm kind of over it now. My brother just got married and moved out and I just initiated this plan to go full mountain man this winter."

  I blinked. Full mountain man? What did that mean? The words rushed out of me before I could stop them.

  "But why?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know! Seems like a good idea. We'll see how it pans out. I'm full of ideas, and sometimes the ones that seem the most stupid are actually the greatest in the end. Regardless, I'm not harboring a sketchy fugitive from the law that's lying about someone in town telling her I'd rent a cabin for $500 a month on my property. Sorry. No one in town would have sent you here to rent."

  My heart pattered in my chest as he reached for his door and began to close it.

  "I go by Marie sometimes!"

  Two inches before it shut, the door stopped. His fingers tightened around the edges, but I couldn't see his face now. A lump filled my throat and I swallowed it. My voice rang out clear despite my worry. I shivered but wasn't entirely sure it was from the cold.

  "If you listen hard, you might recognize my voice. My full name is Stella Marie Lee, but I do business under Marie Lee. Mark, I know you're always annoyed with me because I stifle your ideas and I honestly have no idea why you still pay me to do your books, but I . . . I need some help."

  Slowly, the door opened back up.

  Grab your copy now so you have it on your Kindle as soon as it arrives on April 30th by clicking right here. It will be launched into Kindle Unlimited on April 30th, so if you want me to let you know when the book is available to grab, subscribe right here.

  If that’s not enough, I have a sneak peek from the fourth book, WILD CHILD, coming up next.

  Keep reading!

  Wild Child

  Hey there!

  Are you excited for WILD CHILD?

  You can preorder your copy right here on Amazon (it will be enrolled in Kindle Unlimited).

  WILD CHILD

  Prologue

  The smell of alcohol already stained the air.

  Grimacing, I hovered around the edges of a crowd of sweaty high school bodies clad in strappy dresses and tuxedos. A skirt of deep blue rustled around my legs with no design except a layer of sheer, shimmery fabric over the top. The bodice was a little tight, but my chest felt tight anyway.

  Anyone would, wearing a dress. Not to mention the fact that I hadn’t been asked to this prom, my best friend was here with the sweetest, most popular girl in the school, and I hated crowds with an introvert's fiery passion.

  Still, I pressed on.

  The high school gym hadn’t truly transformed despite the sparkle lights, food table, and crepe banners clogging the air. You can’t hide run down with cheap decorations, not even for the last dance of the year.

  The sudden absence of pulsing music left only shuffles and whispers in the air. The principal, Mrs. Comstock, tapped across a stage on the far side of the gym. She wore a pair of bright pink high heels and a pencil skirt of sheer black. Teenage couples pulled apart, turning their attention to a spotlight that illuminated her salt-and-pepper hair, pulled back into a bun, as she stopped at a microphone in the middle of the stage. She held an envelope in her left hand.

  “Boys and girls,” she said, voice fuzzy from the speakers. “Hope you’re having a good time, and thank you for behaving yourself. The time has come to announce the King and Queen of this year’s prom.”

  A round of applause and whoops rippled through the room, followed by a drumroll from the DJ, who worked in the corner. My stomach clenched. As if any of them needed Mrs. Comstock to tell them who would be King and Queen. I crossed my arm in front of me, tucking my icy fingers away. At least I wasn’t late.

  Where was the perfect couple anyway?

  My heart thumped as a familiar set of broad shoulders came into view on the other side of the room, near a punch guarded by the towering football couch Mr. Bell. He glowered right behind it, as if daring anyone to try to get past him with alcohol. Not far from him, Devin had his hand around a girl named Cassidy’s. He tugged her closer to the middle of the room, where a few of his football buddies had congregated. When Devin leaned down to whisper in her ear, and she grinned broadly, I clenched my fingers together and resisted the urge to dart away.

  This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come. Didn’t matter that it was Devin’s senior prom, that he’d surely take the crown with Cassidy, or that it was our only opportunity to have a dance together before he exited the teenage world and stepped into the adult one.

  I shouldn’t have come.

  But something kept me glued to the spot as Mrs. Comstock ruffled through the envelope to pull out a piece of paper as if she didn’t already know the two names there. Soft music started in the background, a royal accouterment with dramatic violins. Two of Devin’s friends nudged him from behind. A good-natured roll of his eyes followed.

  I wanted to vomit.

  Mrs. Comstock leaned closer to the microph
one, gazed out on the crowd, and grinned. The spotlight washed out her tanned face as she waited, no doubt delaying the suspense. My heart hiccuped as she paused for another seemingly endless minute before crying, “Devin Blaine and Cassidy Parker!”

  The music crashed through the speakers, drowning out the shouts and cries of almost everyone in the room. Devin, with a heart-stopping smile, held a bent elbow out for Cassidy. A hand covered her mouth. Her eyes—so perfectly warm and kind and compassionate I wanted to hate her but couldn’t—sparkled with shock.

  Really? I wanted to say. You’re surprised? No one else is.

  The perfect couple ascended the stairs on the side of the stage together, toward the awaiting student body present and vice present who held their crowns. Cassidy’s tiara sparkled obnoxiously as they set it on top of her head. She looked beautiful, with her dark skin and bright eyes offset by an aquamarine dress. She waved at her adoring public that had gone wild the moment the crown hit her head.

  But it was Devin that took my breath away.

  The tuxedo cut angular lines across his thick shoulders, and his hair had an adorably tousled look. Star quarterback had served him well—he looked like a King up there with his bowtie, wide smile, and a genuine affability that boggled me.

  I leaned back against the wall, crushing my skirt in my hands. My heart banged so loud in my ears I couldn’t hear the screams anymore. Just the race of my blood through my body. There was only half an hour left of the dance, plenty of time to find him in the crowd later and beg a dance. Cassidy would let me—she was good and kind that way. She wouldn’t feel like the tag-along best friend that was only a junior would be in her way.

  The way I felt she was in my way.

  Because I freaking loved my best friend, and that ugly truth had occurred to me earlier that day as I’d watched him get dressed. As I comprehended the pit in my stomach at the thought of him with another girl. Seeing him on the stage, as far from me as he’d ever been, slammed the truth into me all at once.

  Now, watching them dance and whirl together, the truth was obnoxiously clear. Devin was more than a friend to me. He was friend, he was soul. Tears prickled my eyes with heat and I forced them back with one last shot at my crumbling denial.

  No. I didn’t love Devin. Not like that, anyway.

  Devin was my best friend, not my lover. He was the other part of me. The second side of my heart that beat in tandem with mine. The last seven years living in Pineville, away from the stepfather that wanted to kill me, had been bearable because of him. Amazing because of him.

  Safe because of him.

  “Damnit,” I muttered as the weak strands of my denial began to fade. Why did I even try? There was no denying the truth.

  I did love him.

  And how could that ever work? It couldn’t. Because love was fickle and men left. Even the ones you loved. Mama had made that lesson very clear.

  You fall in love, she told me, and men leave. It’s the way of things for girls like us. Besides, baby, you’re the kind of girl that will always take care of yourself. You deserve the truth. Stay away from them.

  Nevermind that Mama had some weird views on life, and had led both my sisters down terrible paths with her advice. While she whispered sweet tales of romantic passion to Lizbeth, she told me the cold hard facts of life and love. Men leave. Love fades. Take care of yourself first.

  Jim, my abusive stepfather, made it very clear that I wasn’t good enough for him. And my real father had left me to die with Jim as well. While I had glowing examples of worthy men—my pseudo-father Maverick, my brother-in-law JJ, and of course Devin—the truth always rang in my ears like a high-pitched reminder.

  Men leave.

  So, no. If I loved Devin and lost him too, I’d lose myself. Was it worth the risk? Well . . . maybe. Because wasn’t Devin already inextricably tied up in me?

  Besides, I thought as I watched him and Cassidy twirl around the stage to an especially pungent romance song, Devin deserves the princess, and I am the sword maiden.

  Dev and I were too alike.

  It would never work.

  That felt easier. Brutal, cold hard reality. Not the dreams of me being the girl in his arms. Me in the tiara. Me in the dress—and actually enjoying it, which would never happen. No, this was reality, and reality was far safer than dreams.

  With all my strength, I swallowed back my emotion. Pushed back the truth that had dangled at the edge of my mind for years now. Even though I’d just acknowledged it today, I tucked it in a tiny box and set it in the corner of my mind to ignore. There it would pulse like a little heart, reminding me that it knew the truth, even as I strove to lie to myself.

  The crowd surged into their own dancing as Dev escorted Cassidy off the stage. Suddenly, my tendency to keep to myself—and ignore almost everyone but Devin—swamped me. There was no one else here I really knew aside from a few friendly acquaintances that were more waves in the halls. No reason to stay. Stay and dance and tell Devin how I really felt?

  No thanks.

  That was locked away now.

  A tap on my shoulder distracted me. My shoulders bunched as I whirled around, then they relaxed. My only other friend Jax stood there with a wry smile.

  “Ellie?”

  “Hey,” he said, then tilted his head to Devin. “How you doing?”

  My tension faded. No punch in his hand. No alcohol on his breath. Instead, I swallowed and said, “Great. Just wanted to see it happen.”

  “You know?”

  “Who didn’t?”

  He grinned. “They look great together, don’t they? The two nicest people in the school deserve the crown.” His eyebrows rose. “Don’t you think?”

  “Yep.”

  “You all right?”

  I tilted my head to crack my neck. The room felt like a warm swamp filled with cheap perfume and alcohol. Mr. Bell abandoned the punch bowl to escort a kid out of the room by his shoulders. Two other kids slipped up, emptying a new bottle of what appeared to be rum inside the punch with a snicker. Idiots.

  “Yep,” I said, “I’m good.”

  He nodded knowingly, as if I’d said something wise, but I caught the hint of sarcasm in his face. “Sure. You’re good. You just got here?”

  “Yep. I’m on my way out now.”

  Wrinkles appeared in his brow. “Why? Don’t you want to dance with D–”

  “Nope.”

  “Ellie—”

  “You look handsome tonight, Jax.” I patted his lapel, where a red rose graced the pocket, “I need to go.”

  His gaze darted behind me, then his lips twitched. I sensed someone approaching as Jax stepped back a little.

  “Good luck with that,” he muttered. A second later, a hand grabbed mine. I whirled around, coming face-to-face with a grinning Devin.

  “I knew you’d come.”

  My heart stalled like a dying car. I sucked in a breath to get it going again, arrested by the overwhelming presence of him. Devin, my best friend. The guy was usually sweaty, smelly, and fell asleep with his body half on top of mine most Friday nights while we watched zombie movies. The guy that made a mean grilled cheese sandwich and never had a sip of alcohol just for my sake.

  The little box in the corner of my brain exploded open.

  Somehow, I managed a smile. “Hey.”

  As easily as breathing, he tugged me closer, put his hand on my waist, and whisked me onto the dance floor. I caught a quick glimpse of Jax over Devin’s shoulder as I whirled away. Concern waited there. Before I could figure it out, Devin spoke.

  “You came.”

  An undercurrent of joy infused his words, not to mention surprised. A moment of annoyance washed through me. Of course I came. But I let it go. Parties—no, people—were not my thing.

  “Of course,” I said quietly.

  I couldn’t look him in the eye. For the first time in my life, I didn’t see the muddy little boy that caught fish with me. I saw Devin the almost-man. The graduating senio
r. The man that was going to work for the next six months until I graduated early and we could move to attend the state university together.

  If he looked in my eyes, he’d see it all.

  The utter vulnerability of my feelings took my breath away. Still, with his smell banishing the trace amount of alcohol in the air, I couldn’t help but relax. This was Devin. Devin was home. Even in a crowd of people that thought me reclusive and strange, Devin was safety.

  Devin was my best friend.

  “You looked great up there,” I managed to say. “Cassidy is beautiful. So . . . congratulations?”

  He made a noise in his throat. I risked a quick glance up and couldn’t help a laugh when I saw his crown. Up close, it appeared cheap. A pliable metal with laurels and berries on it, sprinkled with green glass gems that mimicked the school colors of gold and emerald.

  Devin smirked. “Laugh it up, Elle-bell,” he muttered. “I can’t wait to take this thing off. Will you have food for me when this finishes? I’m taking Cassidy home as soon as it’s over, and then I’ll head your way. I’m freaking starving.”

  “You ate like three cheeseburgers three hours ago.”

  “I know! And I’ve been dancing and talking all night. That makes a man hungry.”

  Suddenly, I really relaxed. The irony in his voice. The ease of his escape to me. Even if I wasn’t Cassidy, I still had Devin. Stalwart Devin that never changed, that I trusted with every morsel of my body.

  “Of course. All the bananas, fudge, and ice cream a high school quarterback could dream of. Bethany just went shopping and also bought your favorite pizza rolls and bread.”

  He pulled me a little closer. I closed my eyes as we moved together, breathing in his scent. I’d hate myself for it later, even as the gentle hint of pine lifted from his skin. We’d gone on a hike before he left to pick up Cassidy. I could still smell traces of the outdoors on him.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly and I knew he meant for coming. For braving a crowd that would have hidden alcohol and made me extremely uncomfortable. For venturing out in a dress, with my hair freshly washed and straightened. For being here with him on this transitionary moment, even though I didn’t have to be. I should have been flattered, but instead, I felt scared. His breath was hot on my neck and sent a shiver down my spine.

 

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