Page 20 of Just Like Home

But none of that was Charlotte’s fault. Her only crime, aside from busting out his headlight, was belonging to the fairer sex.

In his world, that was enough, and he’d be smart to remember it, no matter how apologetic her eyes were. No matter how attracted he was to her—which, he realized in that moment, was a lot.

Don’t go there, buddy.

She closed the car door and stared at him for several seconds. He used those seconds to stare back, and though he didn’t want to admit it, he liked what he saw. She wore the basic summer outfit—jean shorts and a flowing tank top with flip-flops, but she looked out of place standing here in his driveway. In fact, she looked out of place in Harbor Pointe.

Finally, after too many seconds of silence, she sprang to life again. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday.” She opened the back door of the car and stuck her head inside. Oh no, was she going to give him baked goods or a casserole? Those were what people usually gave him. Teachers at work. Joni, the school’s receptionist. Even Betsy sometimes left pastries on his front porch out of pity. Pity pastries didn’t taste the same as pastries he ordered and paid for.

But Charlotte didn’t pull a box of bagels from her back seat. Instead, she emerged with a bouquet of flowers, wrapped in the brown paper from Quinn Collins’s Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop. He knew the place well. How many times had he bought Gemmajust becauseroses there?

Charlotte shut the car door with her hip and walked to the front of the Jetta, then held the bouquet out in his direction. He could see sprays of color poking out of the top of the brown wrapping.

“You brought me flowers?”

Nobody had ever given him flowers.

Her face fell. Again with that tone. He needed to work on that. Hildy would smack him upside the head if she heard him speak to a woman like that. He reached out and took the bouquet, unsure how to hold it. He sure wasn’t going to cradle it the way Gemma would’ve.

She looked past him and into the garage. “Is it bad?” she asked with a nod toward the truck.

He turned and looked at it as she walked past him and stood in front of the truck, surveying the damage she’d done. “Oh, wow. It is bad.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said. “I just need to order a new headlight.” Not entirely true. There was more work to be done to repair the truck, but why go into that now?

“It’s a really old truck,” she said. “That’s probably going to be hard to find, right? I mean, they probably don’t keep them in stock at the hardware store.” She glanced at him, her eyes wide.

“Um, no,” he said, softening his tone. “They don’t.” There, that was better. Not nearly as rude as he’d been before.

“You’ll send me the bill, right?” she asked, turning toward him.

“I’ve got your number,” he said, with no intention of sending her anything. No intention of ever seeing her again, really. She’d just given him flowers, for Pete’s sake.

But you did keep her number . . .

She stood awkwardly in front of him, like she had more to say but also like she didn’t know where to begin. He wasn’t one for small talk.

“Was there something else?” he asked.

She swallowed, a surprised look crossing her face. “Just that those probably need water. You know, so they don’t die.”

He lifted the bouquet and gave it a shake. “Got it.”

She nodded. “I’m living here now, at least for a little while, so I just wanted to be sure, you know, there were no hard feelings. It’s kind of awful to start your first day in a new town with a fender bender. I guess I just wanted to make sure you weren’t upset. I mean, obviously you should be upset, but maybe the flowers will help make you less upset?”

“I’m fine,” he said, feeling indifferent.

She nodded again. “Great.”

“Great.”

She eyed him for a long moment. “They told me you don’t like to talk to people, but they didn’t tell me you were a grouch.” She huffed, walking past him toward her car.

What she’d said should probably upset him, but for some reason he found himself amused. “A grouch?”

“Yeah, a grouch. You know, like the Grinch or Oscar or Scrooge. Someone comes over to your house with a peace offering, you should at least say thank you.” All five feet, eight or so inches of her straightened as she squared off in front of him.

“Uh, thank you?” he muttered.

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