Dirt: A Sexy Small Town Romance (Copperwood Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Dirt: A Sexy Small Town Romance (Copperwood Book 1)
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Shane’s words hit me hard. Another reminder he wasn’t here to stay and a very clear message I shouldn’t get my hopes up. But like when I was in high school and took whatever tidbit of attention he might give me, I was willing to put my future pain aside for the morsel of joy he gave me at the moment.

Christ, what was wrong with me?

“Ready?” Shane turned away from my dad and looked at me with his dark blue eyes.

“I’ll be back later dad. Do you and Mike need anything?”

“Besides a new water heater?”

I gave my dad one of those typical daughter expressions of ‘ha ha, aren’t you funny’, but was happy to see realization dawn on Shane’s face. Mike wasn’t here for any other reason than to help out with a mechanical problem.

“Yes, besides that.”

“We have coffee and donuts. We’re fine.” Dad turned and walked into the kitchen.

Shane held the front door open. I walked through the door and out to the yard. For the most part, everyone in Copperwood was in the same financial boat, but I realized just how decrepit our little house must look to Shane and cringed. I didn’t have to look too closely at his clothes or the car in the driveway to know he was doing pretty well money wise. Hell, the money in my pocket was evidence enough of his success since leaving town. Not like the rest of us who struggled to get all the bills paid every month.

He raced ahead of me and opened the door to the car and I slid in.

He slid in behind the steering wheel and grinned at me. “So, Mike gave me the short and sweet version, but ten years is a long time.”

I didn’t want to seem as if I was staring at him, so instead I looked out the window. “Yep, ten years is definitely a long time, Shane.”

“How long have you been working for Jack?”

Too long. But I didn’t say that. Shane didn’t need to hear all the details of my disappointing life. “A few years.”

Shane didn’t respond. I had the feeling he knew I was lying. I had been working at Picks for five years. I turned twenty–one and started working at the bar because it paid better than any other job in town. The problem was that there wasn’t much in the way of growth, so it didn’t matter how well I did my job, I would always be a bartender.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Shane glanced over at me before turning his gaze back on the road.

I realized we were driving away from the center of town. Away from the restaurants. “Your dad didn’t really talk about what you were doing after your mom left.”

I heard his deep breath and cringed. Why did I bring up his dad?

“I work as a consultant. I do research and find out what a politicians weakness might be.”

Shane might as well have been speaking Venusian for all I understood what he said. “I didn’t know you were in politics.”

“I’m not.”

“But you work for politicians?”

“I work for their campaigns. I find out their dirty secrets and then bury them.”

I leaned back in the seat, letting his words settle in. He finds out secrets. Copperwood might be a small town, but one thing I figured out pretty quickly, was that we all had secrets. Things we didn’t want the neighbors to know. I figured Shane’s dad probably had a few secrets he wanted kept quiet.

“Do you like it?”

He shrugged his shoulders and since he didn’t answer right away, I figured he must actually be considering my question. “It’s not a bad job. But there are times when I question what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.”

“Well why are you?”

“Why do you work at the bar?” Shane turned off the main road and drove his rental car along one of the county roads leading to a state park.

“Because I like to eat. It’s not like I dreamed of working as a bartender when I was thirteen.”

“It’s the same for me.” He pulled the car off to the side of the road and parked it. “Come on. We have a bit of a walk.”

When Shane asked me to lunch, this was not what I had expected.

11

Shane

B
efore showing up at Mya’s door, I had staked out the perfect spot for our lunch by the lake and left everything we needed at the site. I wasn’t too worried about anyone taking anything since it wasn’t likely for anyone to stumble across them and nothing I left behind was worth very much.

I reached for her hand and wove my fingers around hers. Her hand fit perfectly in mine, and it took all my self–control not to think about the other ways she might fit perfectly with me.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, Mya.” I pulled her closer to me. I was greedy and wanted her near me. Her shoulder brushed against my arm and I stopped myself from wrapping my arm around her. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t want to spook her. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

I pulled her through the woods into a clearing next to the lake and brought her to the stash I left there earlier. Two fishing rods, three containers of bait — worms, minnows, and leeches — and a basket with sandwiches and drinks in case we crapped out at fishing.

Ever since I could remember, Mya loved to fish. She was always telling me about the fish she caught when she went out with her dad and I figured she would appreciate this gesture more than an expensive meal not worth even half its cost back in town.

She looked down at the tackle, then at me, then back to the tackle. When she looked up again, she was pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and it was all I could do not to bend over her and pull her lip between my own teeth.

I thought she was going to say something, but instead she picked up the rods and handed one to me before sweeping up the bait.

“Come on, Ahab. Let’s catch lunch.”

I watched as she approached the water. She stopped right at the edge and the lake lapped up over her toes, but she didn’t balk at the water splashing over her shoes. I knew I should do as she bade and follow in her steps, but I couldn’t stop watching her. I didn’t want to. She crouched down and picked through the bait cartons, finally pulling out a worm and attaching it to the hook.

I finally took a step towards her, but I wasn’t thinking about fishing. Or lunch. She must have heard my approach, because she stopped torturing the worm with the hook and looked up at me.

“This is a first.” She handed the carton of worms to me.

“Fishing?” I picked through the rich dirt until I found a fat worm, plump enough to tempt most any fish living in the bay.

“Having to catch my own lunch.”

“I thought you liked fishing.” I looked up from my task so I could watch her body language. Mya was too nice to say anything, but she’d never be able to hide her body’s unconscious response.

She turned away from me and cast her line out into the bay near some rocks. “I do.”

She waited too long before answering me and wouldn’t look at me. She might as well have shouted it out from every rooftop that the last place she wanted to be at the moment was fishing.

“Mya.” I stood up and stepped up behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist. It was as if the years I’d been gone melted away and we were back in school. She leaned back against me and I found myself bending my head down so I could breathe in the scent of her shampoo. I was surprised by the spicy smell invading my nostrils. I expected a feminine floral scent and not a masculine one.

“I like fishing, Shane.”

“Don’t lie to my, Mya. Not me.” My arm tightened around her waist, stopping her from pulling away.

“I liked fishing with my dad.” She practically whispered the words, as if she was afraid someone might hear them. “But after the mine let him go, he just gave up.”

Mya didn’t need to say anything else. God, how could I have been so stupid. Mike gave me enough clues that things weren’t exactly right, but I ignored them. Just like I ignored the dirt I dug up on my dad. The same dirt that likely caused Mya’s dad to pull away from the world.

I reached around her with my other hand and took the fishing rod from her hands. “I have sandwiches. We don’t have to do this.”

She pressed back against me and I had to push my hips away from her unless I wanted her to feel my growing erection. “No, I want to fish.” Her hand tightened around the fishing rod.

I couldn’t help myself. I pressed my lips against the top of her head and gave her a squeeze before stepping away. I didn’t want to. Hell, I wanted to pull her back against me, but now wasn’t the time.

She resumed fishing and I stepped next to her, standing as close as I could without interrupting her casting.

As I threw out my line, I settled into the quiet around us and let myself get lost in the thoughts running through my mind. I wasn’t sure why I was so intent on winning Mya over. I had already decided that the visit to Copperwood was only going to be for a few days. I even reminded Alene that I was leaving the next day. If I continued pursuing Mya, Mike would have every right to hate me. But I couldn’t stop myself. The moment I walked into Pick’s the night before, I realized I wanted her more than anyone else. And now, standing next to her, I realized I was going to whatever I had to do in order to convince her that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

12

Mya

“H
e kissed me. Shane Crawford kissed me. He. Kissed. Me.” I sat cross–legged on Kirstin’s couch holding a cup of coffee between my hands.

“Ok. So let me know. Is this a good thing?” She leaned back against the arm, peering at me over the rim of her cup of coffee.

“I think so.”

Kirstin set the cup down on the small table set in front of the couch and I knew a lecture was coming.

“If you
think
so, then it might not be.” Kirstin pulled her lips between her teeth and tilted her head to the side before continuing. “He’s leaving town, right? Are you able to separate your feelings, that I think Mike, you, and I can all admit run pretty deep when it comes to Shane, from what is only going to be a one night stand?”

“Don’t call it that.” I took a deep breath.

“Why not? It’s what it is. One night and then you’ll each go your separate ways.”

“Because that makes it sound cheap.” I looked down at the cooling coffee and wondered if she wasn’t right. Anything that happened between Shane and me wasn’t going to be representative of anything permanent. It wasn’t going to be a cheap hookup, or at least I hoped it wouldn’t. “Besides, it’s not like anything will happen. A kiss isn’t like he’s telling me he wants to sleep with me. Right? I mean it might just be a kiss.”

Kirstin rolled her eyes at me. Yeah, I knew as soon as I said the words that I was just making an excuse. At least she didn’t decide she needed to say something to me about it. I could live in my own little sad delusional world without her confirmation.

“But he kissed you.” She grinned at me and stood up from the couch, grabbing both my cup of coffee and hers. “That’s something more than what you had back in high school, right?” She walked into the kitchen and rinsed the cups out in the sink.

I settled back in her couch and looked around her small apartment. Kirstin lived on the second floor of an old two–story house converted into two apartments. I had no idea how she managed to pay the rent on her bartender salary, but she never really complained about money like the rest of us did.

Along one wall were two bookshelves with glass doors in front of each shelf. She packed books tightly into the shelves. Hardcovers, textbooks from what looked like college, and paperbacks. There was no rhyme nor reason to her tastes. A mystery by Agatha Christie rested next to a collection from Christopher Moore who resided next to a collection of Louisa May Alcott books. I hadn’t read The Giver in years, but it was in her book case, next to The Death of Ivan Ilych.

Every time I visited, I wanted to ask her about them, but somehow a conversation completely unrelated to books always distracted me.

“Kirstin?”

“Hmm?”

She stepped out of the kitchen and I was prepared to pepper her with questions about her books when her phone rang. Kirstin held up a finger and walked back into the kitchen to pick up her cell.

Part of me desperately wanted to sneak closer to the kitchen to hear who she was talking to. I didn’t know of anyone else in town who would call her, but maybe she had family or friends from out of town. Politeness overcame curiosity and I fell back against the couch.

We all had secrets. Kirstin would tell me when she wanted me to know. And since I really didn’t have any other female friend I could rely on for a cup of coffee and an ear to listen to my problems, I thought it was probably best not to do anything that might ruin it.

Her voice got a little bit louder, but it was still muffled. Whatever conversation she was having, it didn’t sound like she was enjoying it. I wanted to stay and be there for her, but from the tone of her voice, it sounded like she was trying to keep quiet. Giving Kirstin her privacy was the better thing to do, besides, I needed to head back home for a bit before going into work.

I slipped off the couch and headed to the door. “I have to run home and check on my dad, I’ll see you at work tonight.” I called out before stepping out of the apartment, just so she knew I was leaving.

13

Shane

I
barely got back to my motel room from dropping Mya off at her father’s house when, what I could only assume was a fist, pounded on the door. My first thought was that Alene was back, but she wouldn’t have pounded on the door — she might have broken a nail.

I cursed under my breath and stomped to the door. All I wanted to do was sit down and get some work done. Mya had occupied so many of my thoughts lately, that I had fallen well behind on my writing schedule.

I grabbed the door and yanked it open. “What!”

Mike stood on the opposite side of the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Angry already? I haven’t even said anything.”

I stepped back and welcomed him into the room. Not that the motel room was very welcoming. I gestured to one of the two chairs and took the other. “I’d offer you something to drink, but all I have is tap water.”

BOOK: Dirt: A Sexy Small Town Romance (Copperwood Book 1)
12.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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