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Authors: Priscilla Glenn

Coming Home (6 page)

BOOK: Coming Home
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“So, you work near here?”

Danny swept the remnants of his napkin into a neat pile before he looked up. She was looking at him with something that could only be described as empathy.

Their first piece of common ground: prohibited topics of conversation.

“Yeah, about fifteen minutes from here.”

“What do you do?”

“I own an auto repair shop. D&B Automotive.”

“Really?” she asked, squeezing another lemon into her iced tea. “That’s interesting.”

“You think so?”

“Sure.” She shrugged, and Danny smiled.

“No you don’t.”

“Well, it might not be interesting to
me
,” she said through a laugh. “But I’m sure it is to someone who’s into cars, which I’m assuming you are.”

Danny smirked, resting his elbows on the table. “What do
you
do?”

“I’m a teacher.”

“Really? That’s interesting.”

She sat back against the seat, folding her arms.

“I’m serious!” he said. “That really is interesting to me. I couldn’t do it. You must have the patience of a saint.”

Leah shrugged. “There are good days and bad days, just like any other job. I’m sure there are days that try your patience at the shop, right?”

“True,” he said. “But I’m allowed to curse at the cars.”

She laughed before she shook her head at him. She had the prettiest laugh. It made him want to spend the rest of the afternoon finding ways to get her to do it again.

“So, what do you teach?”

“Tenth-grade English.”

He scrunched up his face, and Leah rolled her eyes.

“Clearly, your favorite subject.”

“Is it anyone’s?” he asked, and she scoffed, throwing a sugar packet at him.

“Jerk.”

He grinned, picking up the packet and twirling it between his fingers. “Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of master of the English language? I would’ve thought you could come up with a much better word for me than jerk.”

“Believe me, I’m just getting warmed up.”

Danny burst out laughing as the waitress approached the table with their appetizers. She placed the plates down in front of them, and Danny reached for the pepper, freezing when he saw Leah begin to work away at her salad with a knife and fork.

“What are you doing?”

She glanced up. “Cutting my lettuce.”

“Cutting your lettuce,” he repeated.

“Mm-hm. I always do.”

He put the pepper down, watching her. “May I ask why?”

Leah reached into her salad and held up a piece of lettuce that was the size of his palm. “You can’t really
bite
lettuce, so either I can attempt to cram this ridiculous thing into my mouth like a savage, or I can cut it into respectable, human-sized bites.”

Danny reached over, taking the piece of lettuce out of her hand. He turned it over a few times as if examining it before he shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

“Totally doable,” he mumbled incoherently.

“Mmm. Not to mention extremely attractive,” Leah said, and he chewed his mouthful of food, smiling triumphantly.

“You have dimples when you smile.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he laughed.

When Leah didn’t respond, he said, “So, was there a point to that comment, or were you just stating the obvious?”

She kept her eyes on her salad as she continued to cut. “Just stating the obvious, I guess.”

He laughed softly before he leaned on the table with his forearms. “Dimples turn you on.”


What
?” she scoffed.

“Oh, sorry. I thought we were still stating the obvious.”

“Oh my God,” she laughed, pointing at him with her fork. “
You
are cocky as hell.”

“Nah, not really. I just like it when you blush.”

“I’m not blushing,” she mumbled, pressing the backs of her fingers against her cheek.

He smiled before he said, “So, what’s the deal? Gram said you used to live in her house?”

Leah nodded. “We moved when I was twelve, though. It was so nice of her to let me see the inside. Up until that point, I still kind of felt like that house was mine.” She shrugged bashfully. “Silly, huh?”

“Not at all,” he said sincerely.

She took a deep breath, seeming to contemplate something before she said, “Like in the side yard. There was this block of concrete that cracked all the way through when my dad dropped his toolbox on it, so he had to remove all the broken pieces and re-pour it. And my sister and brother and I—we all put our hands in it while it was drying.” She smiled. “We were pretending we were movie stars. And so my mom came out and caught us, and we totally thought she was going to yell at us.” Leah shook her head as she said, “But instead she leaned down and put her hand in it too. And then we all wrote our initials underneath with a popsicle stick, and my mom wrote the date.”

Leah looked down at a strand of her hair as she twirled it through her fingers. “Obviously you know it’s not there anymore. When I first saw that it was gone, I got really upset, but then I realized I’ll always remember that story, even if there’s no physical proof of it in that yard. Just like everything else that happened in that house.” She released her hair and looked up at him.

It felt like his heart stopped beating.

Say something
.

“If you really think about it,” she said, “most of the memories you have from when you’re small aren’t actually yours. They’re given to you by other people, either from a picture, or a story, or a video. We’re told or shown that it happened to us, and it becomes one of our memories. But that day with the cement?” She shrugged. “That was the first memory that was actually mine.”

He blinked at her, nearly choking on the words that were stuck in his throat.

“Anyway,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It was just really nice of her to invite me in. It was the highlight of my day. Everything pretty much went to hell after that.”

“Right,” he said distractedly. “You lost the bracelet.”

“Well, that, and then the flat on I-95.”

Danny ran his hand through his hair. “That’s a pretty shitty place to get a flat,” he said, trying to get his bearings. The further they got from the moment, the harder it became for him to say the words.

“Tell me about it. It’s even worse in the middle of a snowstorm.”

He pulled in a breath between his teeth, shaking his head. “I forgot it snowed that night. What did you end up doing?”

“I called Triple A and waited over an hour for them to get there. I was
starving
. I was so tempted to eat the food I’d just bought for Christmas dinner. And I ended up peeing in a plastic bag.”

The second the words left her mouth, she dropped her fork and covered her face with both hands.

Danny’s eyes flashed up, his expression incredulous before he burst out laughing.


What
did you just say?”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You did
not
need to know that.”

He tried to rein in his laugh, but it was useless, and Leah shook her head, her face still hidden behind her hands.

“Okay,
now
I’m blushing,” she mumbled. “Why do I have no filter when I’m talking to you?”

“It’s okay,” Danny said, and she spread her fingers, peeking at him from in between them. “If you want, I can tell you some pissing-in-public stories that will blow yours out of the water.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” she said with a laugh, dropping her hands from her face and picking up her fork.

“You really should learn how to change a tire, though,” Danny said before taking a bite of his spring roll.

She bristled. “I know how to change a flat.”

“Oh? Then why didn’t you?”

“Just because I
can
doesn’t mean I’d want to do it on the side of a snowy highway in the dark during rush hour.”

He looked her over, trying to imagine her changing a tire. Those delicate, feminine hands. Her narrow, girlish frame. Could he picture her under a car?

Yeah, he could. And it was hot as hell.

Leah narrowed her eyes at him before her expression straightened, and she nodded. “Ah, okay. I get it. It all makes sense now.”

“Get what?”

“You judge people,” she said casually, taking a bite of her salad. “You’re a judger.”


What
?” He laughed. “I don’t judge people.”

“Of course you do. You’ve done it to me twice now.”

“Bullshit! How have I judged you twice?”

“Well, first I was a stupid asshole because of where I parked my car. And now I’m incapable of changing a flat because…what? My nails are done? I’m wearing heels? Or is it simply because I have boobs and a vagina?”

He stared at her, trying to mask his amusement. “I thought we determined that you
were
an asshole because of where you parked your car.”

She smiled before regaining control of her expression, trying to look stern.

Danny laughed, taking another bite of his food. “All kidding aside, you have my number from when I called the other night. Program me into your phone. Don’t wait for Triple A to dick you around in a situation like that. Me or one of my guys could have been out there in under twenty minutes the other night.”

“Thanks, that’s nice of you.”

“Not a problem,” he said, licking the soy sauce off his thumb.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and then darted back up, her cheeks flushing a light pink as she refocused on her salad.

He wanted to smile victoriously, to puff his chest out like the moronic, testosterone-driven male he was. But instead he focused his attention on his appetizer. Because as much as he
did
enjoy that blush, it was going to be his goddamn undoing.

He took another bite of his spring roll, making a conscious decision not to do anything that would bring it out again.

The waitress came back to the table with their main courses, and the conversation continued to flow effortlessly between them. Leah was the perfect mixture of snarky and sweet, confident and shy. By the end of the meal, Danny felt oddly comfortable with her, like he had known her for years.

Once he had paid the check, despite the objection from Leah, he helped her on with her coat and followed her to the door, holding it open for her as she exited the restaurant.

“Where are you parked?” he asked.

“In the parking garage two blocks down,” she said, motioning with her head.

“I’ll walk you,” he said, grasping at any attempt to prolong the afternoon with her.

He didn’t want it to end. But it shouldn’t have even started. And he knew that.

“Thanks,” she said, wrapping her scarf around her neck, and Danny resisted the impulse to reach for her hand as they started down the block.

By the time they arrived at her car, his chest felt heavy.

She turned to him, bouncing slightly on her toes with a shy smile. “Well, thanks again for lunch. I had fun.”

“Me too,” he said hollowly.

Her brow pulled together slightly as she tilted her head, but she quickly replaced the expression with another smile. “Okay, so…”

She looked up at him in that way that made him want to hug her. Something momentarily flashed across her eyes, and as soon as he pinpointed what it was, his chest tightened further.

Hope.

She looked hopeful, staring up at him like that.

End this. Now
.

“So…get home safe,” he said, taking a step back from her.

Her expression dropped at the same time her shoulders did. It was the tiniest change in her appearance; he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely.

“You too,” she said politely before she got in the car and pulled the door closed. He watched as she started it up, rubbing her hands together in front of the vents.

There was no way he could allow himself to see her again. Inviting her to lunch had been a momentary lapse of judgment, but to
consciously
pursue her? That would be completely reckless.

Not to mention selfish.

As Leah carefully backed out of her parking space and continued down the exit ramp of the garage, Danny dropped his head back, covering his face with both hands.

She didn’t look back.

“Do they sell those chicken-cutlet titty boosters in this store?”

Leah whipped her head toward her friend, laughing as she pressed her hand over Holly’s mouth.

“You do realize this dressing room isn’t soundproof, right?”

“Why? Because it’s a secret that I’m rocking the chest of a prepubescent boy?” she asked, cupping her small breasts and giving them a squeeze.

“Stop,” Leah said, swatting at Holly’s hands. “You’re proportional.”

“And you’re delusional,” she said. “Turn around, I’ll zip you up.”

Leah turned, and as Holly zipped up the dress behind her, she felt the form-fitting bodice tighten around her torso. As far as bridesmaids’ dresses went, she really had nothing to complain about; it was truly beautiful—a deep rose-colored gown with a strapless sweetheart neckline. The snug bodice transitioned into a soft, sinuous silhouette that flowed delicately to the floor.

“See?” Holly said. “Now
that’s
how knockers should look in a dress.”

BOOK: Coming Home
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