Page 24 of Almost Perfect
As I shucked my boots and hung my jacket, the simmering excitement and belly full of food made me smile to myself. I went to bed without crying, without that desolate, isolated feeling. My mind too muddied with memories from the evening, and a little drowsy after eating the filling meal, I let myself sink into my pillow with an unfamiliar, beautiful lightness. With… hope.
Lost in the world of Miss Mayhem too long, and more than that, buried under worrying about Candy and too many other things I couldn’t control, I had forgotten what it felt like to simply enjoy being with people. No agendas or networking opportunity hidden in the unwritten expectations of the night. No greasy feeling on my palms and in my chest at the end of a night spent “charming” people by showing up in as much skin as possible and being there purely because I was famous.
Just nice people and good food in a welcoming, well-loved home.
But I wasn’t Mayhem anymore. At least not in my heart, in these moments to myself. And Calla, now that I’d returned to her, would have more moments like these. As I drifted off, I promised she’d have many, many more nights just like this.
TEN
Wyatt
Dark-haired women haunted my dreams.
Well, not women.Awoman. Just the one. I couldn’t even say what the dream was, but I woke up feeling off. Hosting dinner at the house last night had been strangely exhausting. I hadn’t had a stranger in my house in ages, and though Calla wasn’t a complete stranger, I didn’t know her. And confusingly, I wanted to.
I’d tossed out the invitation to give her a ride today and hoped she hadn’t heard the eager, hopeful tone to my voice. If she had, she hadn’t shown it, but she had said yes readily, thankfully.
It might’ve been weird that I was going to be driving with one woman into town and then meeting another one for lunch, but I had no illusions that Calla was a possibility for me. She was too far out there.
That might sound terrible, but she was literallyout therein the world. Her image was on everything from perfume campaigns to magazine covers. I didn’t know her full story, but she’d modeled years ago, plus she got paid to endorse certain products. Her face, her fame, herlifewas available for public consumption.
Basically, she was the opposite of the quiet, family-focused life I’d craved to build for myself. She might’ve also been compelling to me in a way I didn’t understand, but that didn’t change things. I’d help her—offer rides to town, feed her, be available when needed like a landlord or acquaintance. Maybe friend.
Nothing more, obviously. Which suited me just fine.
At ten o’clock, I’d already done everything I needed to before I went to get Calla. I couldn’t show up a half hour early, though—that just wouldn’t do. So I puttered around the house, folding a few towels that I hadn’t bothered to take out of the dryer earlier. Warrick’s messages interrupted my aimless daydreaming.
“Did you hold hands with a popstar last night?”
“Good grief,” I muttered and messaged him back immediately.“You’re a menace.”
“I’m just curious. And you know you want to.”
I ignored the tightening in my gut and shot back,“I want no such thing.”
“Yeah? Who would want a gorgeous, successful woman living right next door?”
I couldn’t help it, and I couldn’t stand to text him anymore. He knew I hated texting. I dialed him up. “What’s the deal? First, I don’t want her, and second, you warned me away from her the first day we talked about her.”
He snickered. “Methinks the rancher doth protest too much.”
I growled at him. He laughed into the phone and it slammed into my ear, taunting me just like he wanted it to.
“Seriously though, she seems awesome. I couldn’t wholeheartedly endorse her, but she’s got more going for her than anyone you’ve gone out with in years.”
I settled the last folded towel on the pile atop the dryer, then leaned against the machine.
“I’ve gone out with plenty of nice women, Samantha included.” He seemed determined not to count my last relationship, but it did. “I’m going out with someone today who really does have potential.”
“Yeah? Is her favorite color beige and her favorite ice cream is one scoop of ‘plain’ in a recyclable brown cup?”
I couldn’t stifle my chuckle even as a little bolt of irritation shot through me. “No. She’s a teacher, and from what I can tell, she seems really nice, and she’s been witty and fun on messages. Her name’s Sarah.”
“Oh, good. Something really exotic like Sarah almost guarantees she’s going to be a wild ride.”
“Hey. Don’t talk like that. She seems great. And I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
I had been… I had. Idid. That was the sense of anticipation that’d nipped at my heels all day today. Never mind I hadn’t been this impatient for a RuralMatch dateever. Sarah seemed great, and that had to be it. Not giving Calla a ride into town, but finally putting a face and full name to the girl I’d chatted with for a week now. And Warrick was wrong—what I wanted was anything but a too-beautiful mountain-loving popstar whose name might as well have been Trouble.
