Quincy’s forehead filled with lines, but she said, “Okay.”
Turbo mouthed “thanks” to Harris before turning to the boys. “See ya next time, guys.” He ruffled a couple of heads and did some fist bumping.
They waved to the nurses and said a few words to the parents who stood nearby. But as soon as they walked through the double doors into the older, quieter hall, Turbo turned to Harris.
“What?” He touched her shoulder. “What did I do?”
She twisted her shoulder away and kept walking. “I’m going to be late.”
“Harris.”
“I’m fine.”
He strode along beside her. “The second I pulled that cloth out of your hair, you changed. You have something against magic?”
“No. I have something against you pretending to almost kiss me so you could stick it in my hair to begin with.”
“Whoa.” Turbo caught her shoulder and spun her around to face him. “That’s crap.”
She crossed her arms. “Really? You didn’t stick anything in my hair when you touched it outside the library? And you made up the mistletoe thing?” She rolled her eyes, annoyed at her stupidity and even more annoyed that she cared. “Turbo, your reputation precedes you. I can’t believe you didn’t have it all planned out.”
“I didn’t.”
She sighed and looked away. “But I’m more upset at me than you.”
“For what?” He spread his arms out in frustration.
“For getting duped.”
“Duped?” He drew back, his eyes wide. “Harris, I swear, you’re dead wrong.” He brought his hand up, just like he had in the room with the children, spreading his fingers and flipping his hand over and back, before reaching up to behind her ear and pulling the cloth out again. “There was no almost-kiss where I snuck it back, was there?” he asked softly, waving the cloth.
He stepped closer. His eyes moved over her face; his breath fanned over her. “I’ve wanted to touch your hair since high school. I don’t know how anyone can see something that beautiful and not want to run their fingers through it.” He shook his head. “It had nothing to do with magic, unless the fact that you stood still and let me do it was some kind of apparition.”
Her heart thumped in her chest. She could hardly breathe. How did he do this to her? She swallowed through the tightness in her throat.
“You’re the one who moved away,” she managed to whisper.
“I’m still here.”
“Earlier.”
His lips quirked. “You’re mad at me because I didn’t kiss you?”
“No.” She yanked her eyes from his and jerked her body, moving to go around.
“Wait, please.” He didn’t touch her, but his whispered plea gripped her soul.
She stopped but didn’t turn, didn’t look at him.
“There’s something you should know about me...”
He was gay. She’d seen enough movies to be able to finish that sentence. She just couldn’t believe it.
“It might change how you see me. What you think.” He breathed out deeply, a tortured breath. He shoved his hand through his hair. “Look at me, please.”
She slid her gaze over without moving her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m going to be late for work.” Whatever he was going to say, she was sure she didn’t want to hear it. And she’d lost her focus anyway. She needed to concentrate on the play and making it successful so she could finish the library. Whatever was happening between Turbo and herself was a fluke that didn’t need encouragement. No relationship between two such different people would actually work.
He didn’t say anything, and the silence stretched on. Finally, he took a breath. “So, we’re still on for four-wheeling tonight?”
“After we work on your lines.”
“I think we ought to do the four-wheeling first.”
“Lines first.” She wasn’t budging on that.
His shoulders slumped, almost imperceptibly. “Okay. What time?”
“The library closes at eight.”
“Great. I’ll be at your house at 8:30. I’ll bring food.”
“That’s fine.” She kept her face impassive as he turned and they walked out together. She wasn’t curious as to what he thought would be a deal-breaker for them, and she was glad he didn’t kiss her because she didn’t want to kiss him anyway. Lies she didn’t even come close to believing.
Chapter 8
TURBO PULLED INTO HARRIS’S drive at 8:27. His pickup dwarfed her car, and he enjoyed not only that contrast between their vehicles but the fact that her car was all factory, while his pickup was pretty much all custom. Work he’d done himself. From the tinted windows to the large tires, lift kit, and silver-black paint job, his truck was his own creation. Normally no one else drove it, ever, but for some reason, he was really looking forward to Harris sitting in the driver’s seat.
He grabbed the bags of takeout and stepped down. He’d spent a lot of time today thinking of Harris. Normally in the garage, he had half his mind on whatever job he was doing—today it was hooking the new motor up—and half his mind on pranks he could pull, ways to increase productivity, or new trucking lanes that could open, but today, ninety percent of his brain had been on Harris, how soft her skin was, the fire in her hair, and ways to make her smile.
The other ten percent of his brain was working double time on that—how to make her smile. He hadn’t really been thinking of his truck at all, and that’s probably why Torque had finally kicked him out of the garage at seven and told him to go home and get some sleep.
He’d gone home but hadn’t slept. He’d been too busy trying to decide how deceitful it was to hide the fact that he couldn’t read from Harris and try to kiss her anyway. After all, she was a librarian. He knew what she loved, what she did for a living. He couldn’t kiss her knowing she’d never be with someone like him on purpose. Plus, eventually she’d find out about him. His pride wouldn’t allow him to make himself even more vulnerable.
When Cassidy had stopped in at the garage with the kids after work, he’d managed to sound casual—he thought—when he asked in passing if the fussy librarian had ever had a boyfriend. Cassidy hadn’t even given him a strange look before she’d said that Harris wasn’t getting married and didn’t date. But the shadow that flickered across her face had hinted there was more to the story.
He intended to change that policy. He didn’t even stop to wonder when that thought had occurred to him and when the librarian had stopped being someone he avoided and had become someone he couldn’t stop thinking about. He also tried to ignore the guilt that plagued him because if he were successful in winning her heart, wasn’t he deceiving her if she didn’t know he couldn’t read? And guilt because Harris deserved someone better than Turbo.
Stepping up on the porch, he nodded to the neighbor who was sitting on his half of the duplex porch before raising his hand to knock. The door opened before he could. Harris greeted him with a smile.
Turbo froze. She wore worn blue jeans, comfortably loose, with a soft mint green sweater that made her eyes shine like emeralds and contrasted with her fire-red hair. Her skin glowed, and the freckles scattered across it gave it character. He’d never seen anything lovelier, but for possibly the first time in his life, his tongue couldn’t find a glib comment to tell her so.
His heart pounded in his chest. Sweat broke out over his upper lip. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too tight.
“You can come in.” She opened the door wider, as though he were standing there because he couldn’t fit through or something.
He walked into her home. “Home” was the correct word. Greenery interwoven with strings of lights brightened the windows. Cozy rugs, several comfortable chairs, and a serviceable coffee table with a wax melter lit on it made the living room feel welcoming. It smelled like fresh baked cookies.
“So, I think this is the longest I’ve been with you that you haven’t said anything,” Harris said as she cl
osed the door then walked around him and led him to the kitchen. “You have some kind of prank you’re trying to time just right?”
He held the bags up. “Just supper.”
“You’re thinking of a prank?”
“I worked on my truck all afternoon and only thought of two things the whole time.”
“Wow. How to fix it and what else?”
A guilty grin spread across his face. “Something like that, I guess.” It hadn’t been anything close. He’d thought of Harris and how to get her to date him without having to tell her his secret or having her figure it out.
“Okay, so what you thought about today is a big secret, apparently.”
It was a secret all right. It felt like they’d been on this subject forever. He needed to pivot. “You look nice.” She smelled good too. A little spicy scent to go with the cookies on the wax melter. Maybe cinnamon. Possibly nutmeg.
She took the bags from his hands and set them on the table. “What would you like to drink? I have tea, water, coffee...”
“Water, please. Anything else will make me too hyper to concentrate. Especially with no sleep.”
She stopped with her hands on the cupboards. “You didn’t sleep this afternoon?”
He shook his head, pulling drawers out, looking for her silverware.
“You’ve got to be exhausted.”
“Nah.”
She looked him up and down. He was suddenly very aware that he’d dressed for her in a similar outfit to what he wore to the hospital. He normally did t-shirt and jeans. Work boots. But he’d even worn his good church boots today along with new jeans and a button-down shirt. Man, he’d gotten it bad. He’d never dressed up for a girl. But Harris wasn’t just any girl.
They spread the food on the table and ate without much conversation. This new feeling like his stomach had spiders in it was odd. It must be nerves. Strange because he couldn’t remember ever being nervous before. The urge to make random, silly comments was almost overwhelming. He kept his mouth full so he wouldn’t be tempted to say something arbitrary and stupid.
“You’re awful quiet tonight. You must be tired and not even realizing it,” she said thoughtfully as they finished eating.
Turbo stood, gathering up their trash and carrying it to the garbage can. His quietness had nothing to do with being tired. But maybe it was good that she thought that.
A few minutes later and the small table was cleared. She walked to the living room, picking up two folders from her neat, uncluttered desk in the corner. He stared at the folder she tried to hand him.
“I was thinking about this,” he started.
“You’ve changed your mind?” she said immediately, like she’d been expecting it. He tried not to be offended that she had such little faith in him. He probably deserved it. It wasn’t the first time in his life, but it was the strongest time, he wished he could be a better man. That the things he had to hide and compensate for didn’t dictate the way others saw him. That his pride didn’t run his life.
“No,” he said more forcefully than he intended. He took the folder she offered but didn’t open it. It was now or never. But old habits died hard, and he didn’t even need to try to work this. He took a breath. “I memorize things better when I hear them and when I’m moving, so I was hoping you’d read my lines while I pace, and I can just go ahead and get started memorizing.” Nothing he said was a lie, but guilt balled up in his chest like a traffic jam on the freeway.
“Well, you’ve seen the movie, right?”
“What movie?”
“Annie?”
“Two hours is a long time to sit still. I don’t do it very often.”
Her brows shot up. “That’s a no.”
“Yeah.”
She bit her lip and fixed her gaze over his shoulder. He watched her teeth worry her lip and fought the urge to step closer and take the job himself.
Finally, she nodded. “Change of plans.”
“Okay?”
She bustled around the living room, digging in a drawer and pulling out a case of DVDs. “Sit, over there.” She nodded at the couch. “We’re watching the movie.”
He’d fall asleep. But he didn’t say anything. He’d avoided the need to confess. That was the important thing. Plus, she said “we.” Must mean she was going to sit...beside him. He grinned. That was something he could make sure of.
He strolled in the direction she’d indicated but stopped and pretended to study the stack of books on the end table. Thick, every last one of them. He’d bet there were no pictures inside, although the covers were pretty. They didn’t look like anything he’d enjoy reading. If he read. Anything that required him to sit for more than two minutes would have to be supernaturally interesting.
Clicking and shuffling sounded behind him, and he turned to see Harris straightening. Graceful and slim, it was hard to take his eyes off her. She turned and caught him staring. He shifted.
“Sit down.”
“I’m waiting on you.”
“Oh, I’m going to sit here, in this chair.”
“That’s fine. But if you want me to stay awake, you’ll want to sit somewhere you can poke me, or I’ll be asleep within the first five minutes.”
Her hands twisted together in front of her. “Well, then I guess I’d better sit beside you.”
That was a win. Turbo hid his grin. Harris probably would take it the wrong way. He was absolutely serious about falling asleep. He could never sit still without sleeping, but it had definitely been a ploy to get her to sit with him.
“Why are you not smiling?” Harris asked suspiciously.
“I’m trying not to look guilty.”
“What have you done?”
“Nothing.”
“What are you planning?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why should you look guilty?”
“Habit?”
She laughed and swiped the remote off the coffee table before scooting around and sitting down on one end of the couch.
He decided immediately not to overthink it and settled down next to her. Not too close, but not on the opposite end, either. “Am I safe here?”
“You mean, can I reach you if I need to smack you on the head to keep you awake? Yep.” She gave him a sassy grin.
“Actually I mean my virtue. Is my virtue safe here, or are you going to jump me in the middle of the movie? Because if you are, I can move closer.”
She laughed as the music started, and he considered it another win.
“What part am I supposed to play again?” he asked.
“Daddy Warbucks. He’s not on for the first part. I’ll tell you when you need to start paying attention.”
Chapter 9
THAT DIDN’T GO TOO bad, Harris thought to herself as the fireworks went off on the TV and the credits started to roll. At least he only slept through the first part. He looked like he was about half asleep now. Maybe she’d not have to go...
“Ready?” he asked, though his eyes were still half-closed.
“Huh?”
He grinned without moving. “We’re going four-wheeling.”
“I guess.” She wasn’t looking forward to it but had to let go of the idea that he might forget about it. “First...think you can do the part?” she asked, just to stall.
“I have too much hair.”
She laughed. “You can keep the hair.”
“You didn’t tell me the part involved kissing. I’m going to have my agent demand more money.”
“You should get less. After all, the lady who’s playing Grace is beautiful, and you’ll love her.” Those words tasted bad in her mouth, but she said them anyway. Mia Babcock taught theater at the university in town, and a small amount of money had convinced her to play the part.
“What part are you playing?”
“I’m not getting up on stage!”
“Whoa.” Turbo sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You mean, you’ve blackmailed me into this, and you won’t
even do it?”
“I didn’t blackmail you. I didn’t even ask for you. Cassidy and Kelly informed me you were doing it. However they accomplished that was beyond my power.”
He nodded his head. “I see. So, why not you?”
“First of all, I’ve been coordinating the scenery and working on the music and helping Camila—she’s playing Annie—learn her part.” She had paid for one script several months ago, just so that Camila would be ready. “I’ve been trying to make it so that everything comes together the way it needs to so we have to spend as little time as possible practicing. It’s almost impossible to coordinate everyone’s schedules for as many rehearsals as we need.” She placed the DVD back in the case and knelt to put it away.
“Too bad.”
He stood. She had to look away. The guy was way too appealing for his own good. Mia was single, and it wouldn’t surprise Harris if Turbo and Mia ended up being an item by the time the play was over. Hopefully not until the play was over so she didn’t have to watch. Although she would have to watch them kiss... She cringed. No way. She was not going to be able to watch Turbo kiss someone else.
Wait a second. When did that happen? She didn’t care who he kissed as long as it wasn’t her. Yeah. She slammed the door of the cabinet shut a little harder than necessary.
He held a large, calloused hand out in front of her face. “Let’s roll.”
“I hope you don’t mean literally.” She grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull her up, loving the feel of his rough palm against hers. She didn’t want to let go. So she didn’t, careful not to think about why.
Neither did he.
“That’ll be up to you.”
“I’d think you’d care a little more about your truck. It looked like you put a lot of time and effort into it.”
“I did.” He tugged on her hand, and she had a flash go through her mind. This is what it would be like, being with Turbo. He’d slow down for her, then he’d push her out of her comfortable complacency. She was happy where she was, but the excitement and challenge in his eyes was contagious. “I’m real picky about who drives it. My brothers. Me. You.”
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