Bad Boy Blues - Jessica Lemmon Page 0,12
She almost couldn’t process how kind it was that he was concerned.
“And you’re staying at the McKinley place?”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.” He shrugged. “Ant told me your last name. I checked on the houses in town. It’s my job to know what’s going on.”
That made sense.
“Plus, I have to keep the riffraff down to a minimum.” He took another drink of his coffee, the shadow of seriousness on his face receding. “I think I’ll let you stay anyway, though.”
“Ha ha.” She couldn’t help smiling back at him.
“How long are you in our fair city?”
“Not sure yet. I thought about staying the summer, but…” She lifted and dropped a shoulder, unsure how to admit that she needed to find herself as quickly as possible so she could go back to Chicago and make something of that person.
“But…you don’t like it here?”
“It’s not that. At all. It’s—” she gestured to the pine trees, the gorgeous houses, and the water beyond both, “—utopic. How could anyone not like it here?”
“Glad to hear you say that.”
They smiled at each other for a beat before she looked back down at her coffee and took another sip she absolutely didn’t need.
“I should get to work,” he said, turning his head to look over his shoulder.
“Right. Sorry to keep you.” She moved to stand, and he offered a hand. Chivalry, indeed.
“No sorry necessary. I invited you to sit.” She noted the pleasant warmth of his palm in hers. “One more question.”
“Okay.” She pulled her hand from his and missed the contact instantly. Interesting.
“Have you seen the lake yet?”
“Of course. My parents’ house is on the water.”
“I mean the entire lake. From a watercraft.”
“Not since I was a teenager. My parents sold their boat.”
“I’ll show it to you, Coffee Bean.” He tipped his cup to his lips and then gestured to the drink carrier. “Want me to take those extra coffees to the library? I know Mrs. Anderson, the librarian, drinks decaf.”
“Oh, sure. Good idea. Did you…did you just call me Coffee Bean?”
“Do you prefer just Bean?”
He was so oddly charming, and so not what she was used to. “I prefer Elli.”
“Very well.” He took the drink carrier. “Elli Bean.”
He walked in the direction of the library entrance with a long-legged, confident stride, and she watched, her hand wrapped around her coffee cup and her mind lit up like a marquee. From the caffeine, or from his presence, she wasn’t sure which.
“Saturday afternoon,” he called back to her. “Meet me at Mariner Dock at two. Yeah?”
She wanted to say yes but felt awkward about it.
He stopped walking and faced her, either because he’d noticed her hesitation or because he seemed to notice everything. “It’s just a tour, Elli Bean. You in?”
Time to stop being so hermit-like. If she was here for the summer, she might as well get comfortable. “Sure.” She lifted and dropped an arm. “Why not?”
But after he walked away and she climbed into her parents’ BMW, she thought of a few reasons why not. A few really good reasons.
At the top was that she shouldn’t be hanging out with a guy when she was trying to reestablish her independence. And she definitely shouldn’t be hanging out with a guy who intrigued her as much as Brady Hutchins.
Chapter 7
By the next afternoon, Elli was exhausted.
She’d spent the morning cleaning the house and doing laundry. Halfway through cleaning the keyboard on her laptop, she realized she had too much time on her hands.
Since she’d arrived in the Cove, she’d organized and reorganized the photos on her phone, gone to the grocery store twice, alphabetized the spice rack, and had watched countless videos of cats on the internet.
If she was staying here even a moment longer, she needed to find a job. For one, she’d been putting off using her father’s credit card—which he’d insisted she take for emergencies—and she was nearly out of money of her own. For another, she needed to keep her idle hands busy.
She hadn’t worked in almost six years, but she had a business degree and had organized many a dinner and cocktail party for Neil’s firm. Plus, she was damn smart. Surely someone would want temporary help with the tourist traffic around here.
But after spending two hours visiting shops in town, she’d learned that most people weren’t looking for temporary help. She’d popped into the shoe store, the bakery, a furniture store, and even the grocery she’d frequented this week. No luck.
She’d worried she would find herself uncomfortable around people, but