“Wow.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, not knowing how else to explain what happened or why. My head falls back on the outdoor couch cushion, and I stare up at the ceiling fan. Crickets chirp softly behind me.
“He likes you.”
“He does not,” I say, sounding once again like a whiny teenager as my head snaps forward. “He was frustrated.”
Grace snorts. “I’ll say. I bet you have him all tied up inside. He didn’t expect you, and now every time he turns around, there you are.”
“Me?” I gasp. “He’s everywhere I go.”
“Right? Who purposely went to the library?” I shouldn’t have told Grace about my run. Or how I found myself at Sound Advice, claiming I wanted an update on Nana’s radio. Or how Tom let it slip Jess and Katie were at the library. Or how my feet just sort of took me there.
I shake my head although my sister can’t see me. “I have to go.”
Grace chuckles again before giving me her love and disconnecting the line.
+ + +
The next day, I’m walking home from the grocery store when the sky opens and rain pours. I was already ambitious in thinking I could walk a mile to the Bear’s Den for exercise and then carry my supplies back to Nana’s. As I struggle with the four bags, two in each hand, a pickup truck pulls up before me and stops. The hazards blink, and I recognize the vehicle.
Jess.
He slips out of the driver side and rushes to me, reaching for the bags.
“What are you doing out in this?” he yells over the hammering rain.
“Oh, I just thought it’d be fun to get caught in a downpour with groceries and a mile still to go.”
He smirks at my sarcasm, and for the millionth time, I wonder what he would look like if he truly smiled. He’d probably stop traffic.
Without asking me to get in, he takes giant steps to the passenger side and tosses my bags into his truck. He holds the door for me, and I slide onto the seat, the rainwater on my bare legs causing me to stick against the leather. Shirt soaked and legs dripping, I swipe at my thighs as Jess jumps in the driver’s side. He pauses a minute and checks his rearview mirror. His hair is plastered to his head, the ponytail holding the strands mostly in place, but a straggler escapes. It’s sexy as all get-out, and it isn’t lost on me that I’m a hot mess again. Yesterday, I was sweat-laden from a run when I arrived at the library, and today, I’m rain-soaked. His gaze drifts to me, and he notes the moisture all over my thighs. Reaching behind his seat, he pulls forward a sweatshirt.
Sound Advice is printed across the front of the heather gray material.
“Here. Put this on.”
I’m soaked through and through, and I’ll only dampen the sweatshirt, but I follow his command, needing a little warmth. It’s still late July, but the rush of the rain has chilled me.
“Thank you,” I offer as Jess pulls back onto the road. The drive to Nana’s will be quick, and I have so much I want to ask, but I don’t bother. He’s made it clear I should stay out of his business, and he’s right. I don’t need to be inserting myself into his life or his daughter’s. He’s her father. He knows best.
Even if I disagree with all of it.
Eventually, he clears his throat.
“So, yesterday . . .”
His voice fades so I add, “. . . when we kissed.”
He twists his head, glancing at me quickly and then returning his gaze to the windshield. “I wasn’t thinking of that, but—”
“Never mind then.” I look away from him, pretending not to notice his profile. The strong edge of his chin. The roll of his throat. The brightness of his eyes.
“I meant Katie and the sign language.”
“Of course,” I mutter, not sour but agreeing. Of course he means his daughter.
“I . . . I think you might be right.”
I shift in my seat, twisting my body to face his. “Excuse me?”
“The sign language. You might be correct. She needs a method of communication.”
I stare at him a long moment, then a smile breaks out across my lips. “Wow. That was hard for you, wasn’t it?”
He tips his head, side-eyeing me again and then returning his gaze to the road. “What do you mean?”
“I get the impression admitting I might have been right might have physically hurt you.”
The corner of his mouth curls. “It didn’t hurt. Much.” Is he teasing me? Was that . . . a joke? As I continue to watch his face, watch him fight the smile at his lips, I notice a dimple.
Dear God, don’t be a dimple because it will be my downfall.
He straightens his mouth almost as quickly as it curls. “I don’t want Katie to think she’s stupid. And I don’t want her thinking she’s done something wrong. I’m always telling her nothing is wrong with her, reassuring her she’s done nothing bad, although I have no idea what I’m reassuring her about.” Frustration fills his voice.
“I think it’s all in how you present it to her,” I say, swiping at my cool skin. His sweatshirt is warm, but I still shiver. He notices and surprises me when he flips on the heat.
“My sister is a teacher. She said I should talk to someone before Katie enters kindergarten this fall, but they’re on break until mid-August.” His eyes shift to me once more. “And as Katie seems to have taken to you, and you made the suggestion—not to mention, you are kind of pushy—I wondered if you’d help.”
“Me?” I gasp, my hand coming to my chest. “Why me?”
He doesn’t answer as if his explanation already tells me everything.
“I don’t know anything about sign language,” he says, and I watch him as he turns the wheel and drives us down Main Street.
“You can learn,” I say.
“So can you.”
I’m at an impasse with him. He’s so freaking stubborn.
“But you’re the one who needs to know it.” You’re her father.
He nods in agreement as if he’s read my additional thoughts.
“I thought you were worried about her getting attached because I’m not staying,” I add. I don’t exactly know where that comes from, but it’s an honest concern. He didn’t want me near his daughter, didn’t want her more connected to me, and now suddenly, he’s asking me to spend time with her. I don’t get it.
He shrugs. “Maybe this will be a bigger lesson for her. She’ll see she can trust someone, a woman she doesn’t know, who will eventually disappear, and it doesn’t mean it was a bad experience.”
Disappear? Does he think I’ll vanish? I turn back toward the windshield, processing.
“I see.” My voice falls quiet, and I squint at the heavy rain beating against the window. “I guess . . . I mean, of course. I’d love to help. Let me just work around Nana, okay?”
He nods like a bobble-head. “Totally understand. How is that going?”
I shrug, not really prepared to share what’s happening with my grandmother.
We pull into the drive, and he sets the truck in park. I begin to gather the bags so I can make a mad dash inside and out of the rain.
“Here, let me help you.”