In a Jam

by Cindy Dorminy

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Andie

  His eyes rake over my body, and I grip the broom tighter, pretending to actually sweep. Damn, he’s more handsome with sober eyes. I hope he doesn’t lecture me about my slipup because I’ve already given myself a massive tongue-lashing for the both of us. I slide the broom back into the closet if for no other reason than to have something to do besides gawk at him.

  “Mornin’,” Mrs. Cavanaugh says to him, throwing some bacon in the skillet. “Where you been hiding?”

  A flush creeps up his neck. He glances my way, and I busy myself with cleaning the sink. Scrub, scrub, scrub. Don’t give him one single peek. But I can feel his eyes on me.

  Mrs. Cavanaugh pulls out a cup and pours him some coffee.

  “Morning, Mrs. Cavanaugh. I’ve been working some late nights, so trying to sleep in.”

  He sips his coffee, and his eyes peer over the cup at me. I forget how to breathe and can’t keep from staring back. We do this ‘look away, glance back, focus on anything but each other’ dance several times.

  Mrs. Cavanaugh clears her throat. When I snap my head toward her, I see her eyes twinkling. Busted. Gah!

  She takes off her apron and picks up her purse. “I seem to have forgotten my rheumatiz medicine. Do you mind if I go down to the druggist to get some more?”

  It’s not actually a question. It’s more like a statement wrapped up in a polite Southern request. I’m starting to get the hang of these phrases, and I don’t think I need my translator anymore.

  “Oh, why don’t you let me do that for you? You shouldn’t walk if you don’t feel well.” Please, pretty please with sugar on top, please let me leave. This coffee shop is heating up with pheromones.

  She waves me off as she’s already at the door. She has never mentioned being on medication before, so I’m pretty sure she’s trying not to be a third wheel. “Nah. Fresh air will do me some good. It’s hot in here.”

  Ain’t that the truth.

  The bells chime, and she’s gone, leaving me and Gunnar and a whole lot of silence between us. He sits on his usual stool at the bar. I put a few pieces of bacon onto a plate and slide it toward him. He crunches down on a piece and nods his thanks.

  I point in the direction Mrs. Cavanaugh went. “I wish she hadn’t done that.”

  He winks as he takes another sip of coffee. “Now you have to talk to me, huh?”

  Planting my hands on the counter, I lean over. “And you, sir, have to look me in the eye.” I’m still not sure if he meant it when he said he wouldn’t tell Mr. Christian. There’s nothing to prevent him from changing his mind.

  He grins, and I melt when that dimple shows up again. “I’m sorry if I offended you last night.”

  I take a step back. “You didn’t offend me. I was the one that was, how do you say it? Three sheets to the wind and rambling on and on.” I tug on the neckline of my T-shirt to hopefully create a breeze to cool me off.

  He motions for me to sit next to him.

  I slide onto the barstool and fiddle with the dish towel in my hand. After another awkward moment of silence, I have the nerve to speak. He deserves to know my excuse for the slipup, no matter how lame it was.

  “It’s like this. My mother didn’t get along with her mother, so I knew Granny hardly at all. In fact, Mom told me Granny died a long time ago.”

  He agrees without interrupting me.

  “This seems to be a pattern. I hadn’t spoken to my mother for a few years when she died. I’m not proud of that, but I guess I wound up feeling like the only person I could depend on was myself. Then last night, I found that letter to my grandmother. My mother forged my name on it, making it look like I didn’t care about my own grandmother. Who does that? Lovely family, huh?” My fake grin shows up.

  He sets his coffee cup down and puts a hand over one of mine. “You’re not used to people caring about you, really caring.”

  I close my eyes and focus on his hand stroking mine. “Yep. And now with all this money, I really don’t think I can trust people, especially in this town.”

  He rotates me on the barstool until I’m facing him and rests his hands on my knees. “Why is that? Liza and Jake can’t stop talking about how sweet you are. You even befriended Mel and Regina. Mel’s a pushover, but Regina’s a hard egg to crack. These people are your friends.” He glances down at his hands on my thighs before his gaze rakes up my body and lands on my face. “And there’s me.”

  I blow out a breath because everything he said is completely true. But there are others out there that aren’t so friendly. I point at the front window, which looks out on Main Street. “Every day, the blue-haired duo comes in this store, hoping to catch me doing something wrong.”

  He laughs, and his hands slide up my thighs. Stay focused, Andie.

  “By the way, did you read their latest blog entry? I can’t believe they said they were going to issue hard hats to the church members for fear that when I walk in to the sanctuary next time, the roof might cave in.”

  “Don’t waste your time. I’m sorry I even told you about that stupid blog. But most around here are decent folk. Simple, maybe, but not out to get you.”

  I lean toward him as though I’m trying to examine his thoughts. “Are you one of the decent ones?” If he’s not, he sure has me fooled. He had a perfect opportunity to rat on me, and he didn’t.

  He chuckles as he bows his head. “I’m out to drain your account dry.”

  I love his sense of humor. I glance down because it hurts too much to focus on him for very long, especially since he’s drawing circles on my thighs with his thumbs. Have mercy.

  “I enjoy your company, Andie, but I think we went a bit too far last night. I’m, uh... glad we stopped.”

  My shoulders slump as I lean back. “You are?”

  He stares at the ceiling as though he’s trying to find the right words. And there’s that dimple again. “Well... it was the right thing to do. You were drunk. I should turn you in.”

  No! It was one little slip.

  “But I won’t.”

  A huge gulp of air I didn’t know I was holding escapes my mouth. I hop off my stool and walk in a straight line, and one at a time, I touch my right index finger to my nose, then my left. “I’m not drunk now.” I wink at him. “Want to give me a sobriety test?”

  He tugs me toward him by a belt loop until I crash into that solid body of his. “How about a Breathalyzer test?” He leans down, and those soft lips are on the sensitive spot behind my ear.

  If it weren’t for his strong arms wrapped around my waist, I would be a puddle in the middle of the floor. He nips at my bottom lip, and his tongue leaves a sweet, bacon-scented trail down my neck. I moan into his face.

  “You pass,” he whispers into my neck.

  “I need a retest.” My mouth finds his.

  He groans, grabbing my butt with one hand and holding my head in place with the other. My hands roam through his hair, down his thick neck, and latch on to his wide shoulders. I could do this all day long.

  The bell over the door chimes, and Liza Jane enters. “Hey, y’all,” she says, zapping us back to reality.

  We jolt away from each other. Gunnar wipes his mouth and adjusts his uniform pants. I smooth my hair down then race-walk around to the other side of the counter and drum my fingers.

  Liza’s wide grin says it all. “Have mercy, it’s hot in here. I guess I interrupted something.”

  Gunnar clears his throat. “I better go do some public service work.” He salutes us both and practically runs out of the store.

  Liza watches him go then turns back to me, never losing her smirk. “Our coffeepot is on the fritz. I need two large cups to go, please.”

  My hands tremble as I drag out two paper cups and pour coffee in them. “Sure thing. These are on the house. You’ve been so nice to me. It’s my way of thanking you for not treating me like an outsider.”

  “Thanks, hon. But I’d rather pay for the coffee and
get the scoop for free.”

  I melt over the counter, almost spilling the coffee. She pats me on the back, enjoying my reaction, as she continues to giggle.

  “Tell me. I promise I won’t tell a soul, not even Jake.”

  I bang my head on the counter. “Why does he have to be so cute and sweet and...”

  Her eyebrows rise. “And what?”

  “Ugh. He’s such an excellent kisser.”

  She cackles and pats me on the back again. I prop my elbows on the counter and rest my head in my hands.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Here comes whiny Andie again. “Because I’m leaving soon, and I don’t want any hard feelings.”

  “Sugar, it’s not his feelings that are hard.”

  I gasp, but it’s true. Every time he’s near me, he has to adjust his package.

  “Gunnar is one of the sweetest guys God has ever made. Have fun and see where it takes you.”

  I shrug. I would love to spend more time with him—more quality, lip-locking time with him for sure.

  Liza taps me on the hand, and I peek over at her. “He’s not after your money. Surely to goodness, you know that by now.”

  “I know.” I pour myself a cup of coffee, and we sip in silence. “I’m afraid he’s out for me.” I put my cup down and play with a spoon. “I’m not sure I can give him that. I don’t let people near me often, and I sure as hell don’t need to let in someone that lives a thousand miles away.”

  She shrugs, and I think she gets it. Her usually perky face has a slightly tipped-down mouth, almost a frown. She has been so sweet to me without wanting anything. When I leave, I’ll be leaving more than this town and Gunnar. I’ll be leaving others that really seem to like me—the crazy, sometimes drunk me. I still feel Gunnar’s hands all over me, ready to devour me, and I’m ready to let him do that.

  I groan. “God, he’s such an excellent kisser.”

  Liza Jane laughs loud and pops me on the shoulder. I lose my grip on my coffee cup and spill it all over the counter, making her laugh even louder.

  “Ain’t love grand?”

  She did not say that. I’m not in love. But the more I think about it, there’s nothing keeping me and Gunnar from having something casual while I’m here. He’s not attached, and if it means getting more kisses from him, I am more than willing to consider it. No strings attached is not usually my thing, but if it involves him, I would definitely give it a shot.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Gunnar

  Anytime I have girl troubles, I go to one place—straight to Jake. Not that he’s an expert or anything, but I trust his advice. He and Liza know me better than anyone else. I don’t even have to say much for him to pick up on the fact that I’m all messed up.

  He sits at his desk in the cramped office located in the back of the hardware store. Dented filing cabinets line one wall, and a mini-fridge rests in the corner within easy reach of his desk. He enters purchase orders into a spreadsheet, while I perch on the edge of his desk, clicking his stapler.

  He snatches it out of my hand and stares. “Out with it.”

  I focus on my hands, remembering what they were touching only a few minutes ago. “God, she’s an excellent kisser.”

  Jake leans back in his chair and belts out a laugh. “Man, you got it bad.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She’s made it clear she’ll be leaving soon. Why do I do this to myself?”

  He abandons his accounting work and puts his feet up on his desk. “Because you haven’t been laid in two years. Not since that redneck from Ocilla sent a bullet whizzing right past your left ear.”

  My jaw clenches. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Or because it’s been three years since Willow dumped you at the altar?”

  The mere mention of her name makes bile rise up my throat. Willow and I grew up together and went off to college together. She was my first, and I thought she was the one. She left me for a bigwig real estate investor, and I took a downward spiral, landing in every honky-tonk in the South, trying to sex her face out of my mind. All that did was give me a huge case of regret and a stare-down with a shotgun from a redneck’s boyfriend.

  “Rehearsal. She left me at the rehearsal, not on the wedding day.”

  He holds his hands out. “Oh, my bad. Like that’s any better. You didn’t listen to me when I told you she was using you as her ticket out of this town. She knew her daddy didn’t trust her to go off to college unless you were right there beside her, keeping watch over her. You were in looove.” He draws out the word and makes kissy-face noises.

  I roll my eyes. “No one likes a ‘told you so.’ But I know. You told me so. I get it.”

  “Or could it be that this sassy out-of-towner tight little package blazes into town and brings something in you back to life?” Jake drops his feet to the floor and leans over the desk to make sure I’m listening. “You think she’s too good for you, don’t you?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.” Suddenly a hangnail is way more interesting than this conversation. I should have ridden around in my squad car, talking to myself.

  Jake pokes me in the side. “Let me tell you something, brother. No one is too good for you.”

  The door is flung open, and Liza walks in, holding two coffee cups. She kisses me on the cheek. “Sugar, I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Please don’t tell anyone else.”

  Jake takes one of the coffee cups from Liza, and she sits in his lap. He stares at her. “What did you do this time?”

  She bites her lip to hide her smile, but it overcomes her face. “I didn’t mean to, but I walked in when he and Andie were in the middle of a huge lip-lock.”

  I groan. “Stop, Liza. It wasn’t that bad... was it?”

  She waggles her eyebrows at her husband. “Lord have mercy, I have never seen him all over somebody like that. I swear, if I was two minutes later, there would have been clothes flying everywhere. The health department would have shut down In A Jam in two shakes.” She fans herself.

  Jake chuckles, his big belly jiggling her. I shoot him the bird.

  “You know I love you. I’m happy for you.”

  “Whatever.” I check my watch. Time to cruise the streets in search of criminals.

  “He was telling me Andie is too good for him,” Jake says.

  My mouth drops open. “I did not say that.”

  “You better not.” Liza tosses her empty coffee cup in the trash then picks up a cigarette and lights it. “She’s not. You are perfect for each other.” She ruffles Jake’s hair. “Like us.”

  He runs a hand under her T-shirt, making me cover my eyes. “Guys, please. I’m right here.”

  “I love to make him squirm,” she says to Jake before looking back up at me. “I could tell you stories about your sister and my—”

  “Stop. She’s going to be leaving soon. I’ll be here. End of story.”

  Liza holds out her hands as she takes in my crappy excuse. “Okay. Sure. Then why the hound-dog face?”

  I stand and bang my head against the wall. With the whine of a teenager, I reply, “Because she’s such an excellent kisser.”

  Jake laughs, and Liza jumps off his lap. She squeezes me around the waist. “See, you guys are perfect for each other. Those were her exact words about you.” She waves and slips away to straighten up the plumbing aisle.

  Hmm. Maybe Andie feels it too. Maybe she’ll want to give us a chance, and she’ll want to stay here. Maybe she’ll love it here and want to help revitalize downtown. Yeah. When pigs fly.

  In my crazy dream-like planning state, I forgot where I was.

  Jake smirks. “Hey, Bruce,” he says when I turn to leave.

  I put my hands on my hips. “What?”

  He makes kissy-face noises again. I flip him off and hear his cackles as I exit the hardware store. Andie feels it too. Sweet. Now I need to ever so slightly convince her to stay. And not for the town, but for me.

  CH
APTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Andie

  My fingers glide over the dozen Mason jars lined up like jam soldiers on my counter. They may be globs of sugar and fruit to other people, but to me, they are like my children. I’m proud of them and can’t wait to present them at the county fair this weekend. It was Mrs. Cavanaugh’s idea to use some leftover ribbon from an old set of curtains to dress up the jars, making them appear as though they are wearing gingham skirts tied with a rough cord. The hot glue only seared three of my fingers in the process, so I will count that as a win. I may not win the blue ribbon, but I consider myself a winner already. For the first time in my life, I’m proud of something I’ve accomplished.

  The bell rings, and I jump five feet off the ground. It’s Stanley. He’s not who I was hoping for, but I pretend I’m not disappointed. My lips are still swollen from my make-out session with Gunnar, and I’m eager for more of that action, but Stanley is here for his muffins.

  “Hey, Stan.” I slide the Tupperware container toward him. “I think I’m getting better.”

  He chows down on a muffin, and his eyes roll back in his head. Nice. “Not bad, Andie. Not bad at all.” With a mouthful of food, he says, “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

  My eyes spring open. “To get you ready for the GED?”

  A blush creeps up his neck. “If the offer still stands, I think I’d like to do it.”

  I bounce up and down. “You won’t be sorry, and I won’t tell a soul. It will be our little secret.” I was hoping he would mention it, and in anticipation of his change of heart, I picked up some workbooks and supplies at the office supply store. I hold up a finger. “Wait right here.”

  I zoom upstairs to get the supplies, and by the time I get back, he has devoured all of my muffins. I really must be getting better at baking than I thought. After I fix us both glasses of sweet tea, I spread out all my school supplies. His hand glides over the workbook, and when he touches the word GED, his fingers retract, almost as if it’s an involuntary response.

  “I, uh...”

  “You can do this. I’ll help you.”