Page 28 of Small Town Firsts

I saunter up the bar and introduce myself to the girl working it. I’m just about to ask her if it’s okay for me to head on back to speak with the owner when he claps me on the shoulder. “Mr. Carson. Right on time.”

“Please, call me Cash,” I tell him as we walk back to his office. We both take a seat and immediately start discussing his wish list for the cabinet he wants from me. “Well, Mr. Brooks, I really like the feel of this place, and I think a custom cabinet from me would fit the bill just right. Let me ask you a question real quickthough . . .” He nods and I continue. “That wood on the bar, where’s it from?”

“Ah, yes. That’s wood from my great-granddaddy’s barn. When it came time to re-roof the barn, we decided it wasn’t worth the cost with none of us actually usin’ it since he passed, so we saved all the wood we could. Got most of it, thankfully. In fact, I should have just enough left for you to build my cabinet.”

My face splits into a wide grin. The thought of working with such old lumber has my heart speeding up just a bit. “Well, hot damn, that sounds amazing. You mind if I hang onto this wish list?”

“You go right ahead, son.” Mr. Brooks secures his notes into a file folder and slides them across the table to me.

“All right, thank you very much. I’m just gonna take a few measurements and I’ll be on my way.”

We both stand and shake hands before going on about our business. He heads to his desk, and I make my way out to my truck to grab my tape measure and notepad.

I’m on my knees,bent over my notepad, muttering measurements and calculations to myself when I hear Myla Rose’s angelic voice. I swear, I could pick that voice out of a damn crowd, no problem.

She’s at the bar, presumably placing her order. Her back is to me, and I take advantage, letting my eyes slowly trail her from head to toe, lingering in all the right places.

Girl is too damn fine. Too bad I probably ruined any shot I had with her—even as a friend. Still, now is the perfect time to tuck tail and apologize.

She pays the barista and spins on her heel, scanning the coffee shop for a free table. Lucky me, the only free table happens to be right next to where I’m set up. I rise from my crouched position as she approaches. “Hello there, Myla Rose. How are you today?”

Her eyes widen, as if she’s surprised to see me. “I’m doin’ just fine, thanks for asking. How about you?”

“My good day just got even better,” I reply as I pull her chair out and gesture for her to have a seat.

“Oh, um . . .” She’s at a loss for words as I lower myself into the chair across from her.

“I wanna apologize for how I acted the other day. I was outta line, and I’m sorry. You think you can forgive me?” I hit her with my most charming smile.

Her cheeks turn that delicious rosy hue, making me wonder just how far I could make the blush spread, making me wonder if that’s how she looks when . . .

“Of course, Cash.” Her words, spoken in such an unsure tone, derail my dirty train of thought, which is probably for the best because this isn’t the time or place.

“You sure about that, Myla Rose?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Everyone is entitled to a mistake or two.” Her voice comes out crisp and clear, letting me know she means every word.

Thank God. The thought of this girl being mad at me—yeah, I'll pass.

“Well, good. I wanna make it up to you though.” She starts to shake her head to refuse, but I just keep right on. “Please, let me take you out, Myla Rose. What’s the worst that could happen?” I plead, hitting her with my best puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, I guess,” she relents.Hell yes!

“Next weekend, Friday night?” She tells me that’s fine with her, and we exchange numbers with the promise of finalizing plans later in the week.

CHAPTER 18

MYLA ROSE

“Get up,get in the shower, and dry your hair, Myla Rose. I’m on my way, and if I don’t hear the whir of your hair dryer when I get there, I swear I’ll knock you into next week, pregnant or not.”

I grumble and groan as I disconnect the call and set about following Azalea’s instructions. She can be sweet as sugar, but she can also be downright terrifying. Twelve years of friendship have taught me that sometimes, it’s best to let her have her way, and this seems to be one of those times. Plus, if she sees that I listened, maybe she’ll cut me some slack and let me back out.

I mean, what on earth was I thinking telling him he could take me on a date?Not a date, Myla Rose.He said he just wants to make up for his rudeness the other day. And really, that’s A-Okay with me, because as much as I hate to admit it, his abrupt change in attitude really hurt. Which is just plum silly.Silly, silly, silly. I rinse those thoughts away, along with the suds from my coconut-scented body wash.

After toweling off, I wiggle my way into a pair of cropped jeans and a merlot colored lace top. “No-no-no,” I mutter as I stare at my reflection in horror when I hear the creak of the front door. “Myles!” Azalea’s voice echoes through the house. “Why don’t I hear your blow dryer?”

Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll just leave . . .

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