Six Months (3 page)

I slipped on a pair of black biker boots to keep my feet dry. Perish the thought I was making a fashion statement when I put on a pair of leggings and an oversized black shirt. In the summertime, I loved wearing Capri pants and fashionable sandals. But with the cold weather fast approaching, I began to dip into the bottom drawers and pull out some of my casual-crazy wear for gloomy weather.

An indie group played on my earbuds and I walked into Walgreens, humming along and tracking in a few streaks of mud behind me.

“Can I help you?” I heard a voice say over my music.

A middle-aged woman with a prominent mole on the side of her nose and heavy glasses stared at me impatiently. The small tag on her blue shirt displayed the name Patsy.

“Where’s your perfume?” As if I didn’t already know.

She pushed her glasses up her nose and stole a glimpse of my boots. “This way.”

Sometimes they put the perfume samplers on display, but this was not one of those days. The boxes were sealed in plastic and locked behind the glass case. It was ludicrous to think someone would come into a store and steal a bunch of perfume when they had expensive makeup at their fingertips. So I wandered the store and scoured the clearance aisle for makeup, sifting through green eyeliner and whore-red lipstick. I’d learned to make things stretch; it’s something my grandma had taught me. It’s why I’d adopted the smoky liner look—that stuff went a long way and didn’t require eye shadow. Rose had also showed me a neat little trick of using a Q-tip to get all the lipstick from beneath the barrel. We had become quite resourceful in learning how to save money when it came to expensive makeup.

I lied whenever someone asked how I was doing. People don’t want to hear the truth. Lexi had given me a slight salary increase, but it wasn’t enough to get me where I needed to be. One of Austin’s brothers was helping her manage the business and analyzing her profit margin, so she’d told me to hang tight until she got a firm grip on the finances. Lexi’d really had a lot dumped on her at once and had taken it like a champ. There’s a huge learning curve with operating a business, but she stayed positive, and to be honest, Charlie chose the right person. Lexi had been working there for years and knew what it took to keep things running. So I’d been putting aside all my money and living off the necessities. Things like junk food, movies, and books were temporarily cut out of my budget.

“April Showers,” a bristly voice said.

Loud enough that I heard him over my music. I popped out one of my earbuds, knowing who it was before I looked up at his handsome face.

“You really need to stop calling me that,” I said, quirking my mouth.

“When I’m near you, I feel nothing but showers of love, babe.” Trevor offered a staggering smile and lifted me off the ground, embracing me in a tight hug. “Missed you.”

“I missed you so much, Trevor. When did you get back in town?” I grunted as he squeezed so tight my lungs constricted.

“Last night. Should have known I’d find you perusing the makeup aisles or at the bookstore. Any good romances I should know about?”

I chuckled when he set me down. “Didn’t you get my last e-mail?”

Trevor’s razor-cut brown hair had an edgy style with dark highlights. He liked combing his hair in different directions across his forehead. Trevor was the most fashion-forward guy I’d ever met—always in designer jeans and a button-up shirt. Today he sported a pair of black leather oxfords with his dark denims. A girl standing near the makeup counter ogled him; little did she know my best friend would be more interested in her boyfriend who was busy sniffing a bottle of body lotion. Trevor looked like an incognito celebrity with his sweet face and sexy lips. He had a commanding presence—like he was somebody important but didn’t want people to know.

He was mysterious, and that’s what I loved about him.

It’s how we met. While riding down an escalator in the mall, I’d watched him going up in the opposite direction and had one of my
mantastic
episodes. I’d turned around to gawk at him, hadn’t noticed the landing coming up, and had fallen flat on my back.

Little had I known that Trevor was a romance novel hero sprung to life. He’d performed a one-armed vault to the other side of the escalators and run down to make sure I was okay. I still remember the smirk on his face when he cradled my head and asked if I’d fallen head over heels for him.

He had walked me to a nearby bookstore and bought me a latte. After a long conversation, we found out we had a lot in common, including our love for reading. I’d always been a huge fan of romance novels, whether contemporary, paranormal, or something risqué. Trevor offered me a unique chance to hear a man’s perspective on books, and I got him reading a bunch he’d never heard of. In return, he turned me on to indie music.

Trevor loved playing the acoustic guitar and had an appreciation for undiscovered talent. He wasn’t in a band; singing and playing guitar was just something he did when we were lounging around with nothing to do. It was only later that I found out Trevor was gay—I hadn’t had a clue until he brought up his boyfriend in conversation. I didn’t make a big deal about it and neither did he.

“I’ve got news,” he announced, taking my hand in his. “Do you need something in here or can I take you out for brunch?”

“You don’t have to buy me anything. I had a banana for breakfast.”

“I’m paying.”

“I’m not hungry. Maybe we can…” I glanced around, trying to come up with an alternative.

He gripped my chin and looked down at me. “What’s wrong? Do you need some money?”

“Rose is getting married.”

“No fucking way.” He tugged my arm and hauled me toward the door. “That’s it. We’re talking.”

Instead of brunch, we sat inside his Honda hatchback and played catch-up. Trevor was shocked to learn about Rose’s upcoming nuptials and he gave them a year. I lightly punched him in the arm for being pessimistic and he shook his head, saying all she wanted in Shane was a way out and that kind of relationship didn’t stand a chance.

“Are you living alone in that shithole trailer park in the hood?” he asked. “Please tell me you have a boyfriend staying with you.”

I shook my head.

“Jesus, why didn’t you call me?”

“What’s your big news?”

He shifted in his seat. “I’m moving in with you.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“My news is I broke up with James and decided to come home because I’ve never seen more repressed people in my life than in that tiny tinker town in the middle of bumfuck—”

“Seriously? What happened between you two? I thought it was going so well.”

He shrugged and adjusted the vents. “That’s why I haven’t e-mailed in a couple of weeks. I was living in my car for two days before I decided to come back home. It just wasn’t right. Now I’m here with no job, no place to live, and I have to start from square effing one.”

“What about Lucy?” She was mutual friend we’d met at a party years ago who thought she could convert Trevor into a straight man with her magical vagina.

“No good. Long story short, her boyfriend thinks I’m pretending to be gay to get in her panties.”

“She wishes,” I muttered.

“I have to leave for a couple of days,” he said, picking at the steering wheel with his finger. “I zipped out of there in a hurry, but now I regret the hell out of it because I left some personal shit there I need to get back—like my Gibson, all my plants, and my model airplanes.”

Trevor was a curious guy. He played guitar, partied with the best of them, but in his downtime, he liked to unwind by flipping on a bright desk lamp and assembling model airplanes that came in a billion pieces. He once told me a hobby like that taught a man control and patience, and that’s something he needed in his life.

“Will he give them back to you?”

Trevor sighed and grunted all at once, throwing his head back and staring at the roof. “James isn’t a total jerk. I just didn’t want to deal with seeing him again.” He rolled his head in my direction and patted my leg. “You mind if I stay with you? Say no and I’m parking my car by the barbecue grill and setting up camp. Why don’t you sell it and move to a safe apartment complex?”

“No one in their right mind would buy that old thing,” I said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t get anything for it and besides, it’s paid for in full and I’m actually saving money by living there. Apartments are expensive these days with all those deposits.”

“Seriously, babe, that’s a scary fucking trailer park. And the guy with the gnome collection who lives down the road?”

“Mr. Potter?”

“He waters his lawn naked. That man needs to be introduced to a razor and a pair of pants. It’s fucking creepy. If you say he’s a nice guy, then I’m throwing your books in the river.”

I frowned and gazed sullenly out the window.

“What did I say wrong?”

I watched a few stray sprinkles catch on the glass. “Last week it rained so hard that it leaked in the trailer when I was sleeping. Water got all over my favorite books that were stacked in the corner of my bedroom.”

“Oh, shit no.”

“Ruined about thirty of my favorites. Some of them I salvaged, but the rest wound up with wrinkled paper and warped covers. I had another stack in the living room, so it wasn’t a total loss.”

“E-readers, babe.”

I rolled my eyes. “Books aren’t a big priority at the moment.”

“
Damn
.”

“What?”

Trevor leaned across me, so close to my face that I could smell his hair.

“It’s like Jensen Ackles had a baby with a professional fighter and made
him
. Only he doesn’t have Jensen’s pouty mouth… more like Fassbender. Add a splash of Jason Statham’s kickass attitude…”

“Who?”

Trevor grabbed my chin and turned my head to the right. “You need to watch more TV. I swear, sometimes I wonder if you even know who the president is these days. Why the hell did I ever leave Austin? Look at that fine specimen of a man. Tall, tan, and a little rough-looking in the face, but I’d forgive him.
And
a Triumph motorcycle; that’s fucking hot.”

The second I saw the man Trevor was salivating over step onto the curb and adjust his mirrored shades, it triggered a memory. As did his spectacular body beneath his tight, long-sleeved shirt—nary an inch of skin showing. Not to mention his chiseled face that had a light dusting of whiskers around the chin—a face I’d thought I’d never see again. Only now, fully dressed, he gave off more of a paramilitary vibe. Maybe I’d forgotten the scary aspects about him, but his looks still lingered in my mind all these months later.

“I think I know him,” I said under my breath.

Four months ago, I gave Lexi a ride home. Reno Cole, Austin’s brother, was outside throwing horseshoes in the yard without a shirt on. A thin sheen of sweat covered his broad torso, which was the only thing I noticed since he was wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat. I had a “stupid” attack and almost tripped in front of him. I’d never felt more intimidated by a man’s presence in my life. I felt cowardly and my mouth refused to work, and when it finally did, I mentioned something about the heat like I was a walking weathergirl. Reno’s fit body spanned just over six feet, but his expression was tight and menacing. I shamelessly fled the scene, but the tire on my car wedged into a pothole. He stalked over as if he might rip my car door off and pummel me for messing up their driveway.

But he didn’t. He pushed the car free and I never saw him again.

Fingers snapped in front of my face and Trevor gave me a killer smile. “Nice to see you still have a pulse. I was beginning to think your libido took a permanent vacation. April, my mission this year is to find your Mr. Right.”

Trevor was kidding, of course. He’d always been overprotective and never let a stranger approach me without giving him the third degree. He liked the
idea
of me finding a man more than the reality.

“I hope you find a place soon, Trev, but you can stay with me as long as you need to.”

“At least you’ll have someone to talk to besides those damn critters you keep taking in. You still got the squirrel?”

Picking at my blue nail, I shook my head. “Skittles didn’t make it.”

“Rabies?”

I slapped his arm and we belted out a few laughs.

Over the years, I’d gained a reputation for rescuing injured animals. Some I found along the road, while others wandered in from the woods. They were amazing creatures—like the garter snake my grandma had attempted to murder with a broom. It was a good feeling to help something wild and then set it free. As much love as I had for them, I learned you couldn’t hold on to something with a wild heart. They live on instinct and they’ll never love you back.