Page 3 of Book and Ladder
My words drag me back from this alternate universe where Patrick O’Connell is my new next-door neighbor.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry,” Patrick says, looking away from me for the first time since our eyes locked.
He pushes off the side of the truck with the finesse of a jungle predator, walks around the front of the truck, and hoists himself up into the driver’s seat. Without another glance in my direction, he puts the truck in drive, pulls forward and parks so that the van now blocks our neighbor’s driveway.
I wait for him to hop out. He doesn’t.
I feel foolish.
Waiting for Patrick. When will I learn?
I walk to my car, set the coffee on the roof, wiggle my fingers to regain circulation and open my door. My keys drop to the ground, because, of course they do. I pull the box out from where it’s wedged under my arm, and then I set it and my purse on the passenger seat. I bend to retrieve my keys in as dignified a way as possible.
That’s right. I totally meant to set my keys on the ground while loading my car. Nothing to see here, Patrick. Absolutely nothing.
I grab my coffee from off the roof and shut myself into safety. Turning the key, I back up, passing the moving van and taking off down my street at just a smidge over the speed limit.
Halfway down the block, I check the mirror—Patrick’s already backing up to reclaim my driveway.
Mydriveway.
“There is noour, Patrick,” I say to no one.
I turn my radio on and blast the country station, lifting my homemade latte from the cup holder and taking a long sip as if the hot beverage will erase images of Patrick leaned against that moving van and the way his smirky smirk looked so self-satisfied and pompous as he announced his invasion into my world.
I hear a faint voice as if another station is trying to come through the radio. The voice almost sounds like it's calling my name. Then I remember. Winona. She’s still on the call?
“Win!” I shout, digging the phone out of my purse while keeping my eyes trained on the road.
“Girl.” She chuckles. “That was awesome!”
“What part?”
“The part where Patrick and you sparred on your front lawn. It’s better than reality TV.”
“Happy to entertain,” I joke. “And sorry I forgot you and I were talking.”
“No problem. I’m patient. Besides, I really loved being a fly on the wall through that whole exchange.”
“It’s crazy, right?”
“What? Patrick moving into the same exact house as you?”
“Yes!”
“A little. I mean, Waterford is small. Rentals are a bit hard to come by. Maybe he couldn’t find anything else.”
“Cody’s ranch has extra guesthouses.”
“True,” Winona says. “Maybe he just wanted to be near you.”
I spit out the rest of the mouthful of coffee I just sipped and grab for a napkin in the console to mop up the spray. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s it. Patrick O’Connell wants to be near me. That’s about as likely as me wanting to watch a movie before I’ve read the book.”
Chapter 2
Daisy
You see, bookshops are dreams
