Page 98 of Every Now and Then
When I showed up at her doorstep this morning, I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I’d get, especially after how distant Annabelle had been these past few days. Bailey assured me after their lunch that she was doing well, but I needed to see it for myself. The moment Annabelle opened the door, and I felt her happiness at seeing me, it was like the ship had righted itself.
As I drive us into Nashville, my mind drifts back to those brief texts with Grace, how Laura thinks Dave has a crush on Annabelle. And how Annabelle worries Dave might be a creep.
I’m mostly silent on the first half of the drive to the rent house because I’m contemplating the best way to play this. Finally, I settle on honesty.
Flexing my fingers around the steering wheel, I say, “Can I ask you a question?”
Pointing a finger gun in my direction, she says, “Shoot.”
“Grace mentioned that Laura thinks Dave’s interested in you.”
“She told you that! How does she even know?”
I toss her a look of disbelief. “You’re surprised that Grace eavesdrops on your conversations? I think it’d be more surprising if she didn’t, Yankee.”
Annabelle laughs. “Valid point.”
“But back to my question. Did he do something? Grace insinuated that you don’t feel comfortable around him. She called him a curve, which I’m assuming she misheard and intended to call him a perv. That true?”
“He hasn’t done anything overt.” Annabelle swivels in the passenger seat of my truck to face me. “It’s more like a feeling I get when I’m around him. Dave is a little odd, but I think he’s harmless.”
I’m not letting her off that easily. “Odd, how?”
“He watches me. Yesterday, he hovered in my cubicle after our conversation ended and stared at me. I can’t tell if he’s socially awkward, or if he’s… just that desperate to talk to me.” She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Like I said, he’s never done anything overtly creepy.”
I disagree. Standing there staring at her seems pretty fucking creepy to me.
“So, you feel comfortable staying in his house? Renting from him?” I press, sensing there’s more beneath the surface. I feel like she’s holding back and not being completely truthful. I just can’t tell if she’s withholding it on purpose or if she’s suffering from good old denial. Wouldn’t be the first time a woman ignored her gut in the name of keeping the peace.
She hesitates for the briefest of moments, but it’s enough for me to recognize that she feels more concern about the situation than she’s willing to voice. “Yes, I do.”
“If you say so,” I reply. “But I don’t like the idea of you living in his house and feeling indebted to the guy, Annabelle. Not if there’s any chance that he has ill intentions.”
“Noted, Hayes.” Her clipped response ends that portion of our conversation. I’m willing to let it drop. For now.
When we arrive, I’m pleased to see that the neighborhood appears quaint and safe. It’s an older, cute neighborhood made up of small, well-maintained 1950s cottages built on nice-sized lots.
Opening the car door for Annabelle, I grab her hand as we walk over to where Dave stands on the front porch, waiting for us since we’re a couple minutes late.
Once I put the face to the name, I realize that Dave is a morning show deejay at the country music radio station. He’s interviewed Outlaw several times over the years. He's always struck me as a quirky dude, but I have to agree with Annabelle's assessment. I don't think he's a creep.
Still doesn't mean I want them to live at his place, though. I'm not taking any chances with my girls' safety.
“Ruston Hayes,” I say, offering my signature crooked smile as I extend a hand. His eyes widen just a fraction, and I know that he’s recognized me, too. Good. That’s the point. I want him to know whohis competition is. When Dave takes my hand, I squeeze hard enough to make him wince. “Nice to see you again, Dave.” As I release his hand, I slide my arm around Annabelle’s waist and pull her to my side, pressing a kiss to her temple.
I’m a territorial asshole, and I’m claiming Annabelle as mine.
She pins me with a pointed look.Yep, she’s onto me, but I don’t care.
Unlocking the front door, Dave backs off and waves for us to go inside. “You can look around. I’ll wait out here in case you have questions.”
The house has a narrow but comfortable living room with large windows and hardwood floors. Attached to the living room is a small dining room with built-in china cabinets in the corners and an antique crystal chandelier.
“It’s got some nice period details,” I remark.
“Yeah, it does.”
From there, we walk into the galley-style kitchen. Cheerful yellow paint covers the wood cabinets, and while the outdated laminate countertops remain, the kitchen boasts updated appliances. It’s workable but cramped, nothing like the gourmet kitchen Annabelle enjoys in her current home.
