Page 5 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“What? Oh, no. I trust you. I mean, you don’t look like a thief.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Sorry. No. Sorry. That came out… Sorry.”
“They say the British are forever apologizing. I guess it’s true.” The guy’s good-natured smile broadened, matching the amusement glittering in his eyes.
“You’re right. We say it all the time. But the secret is, we’re not really apologizing. Or not most of the time. Sorry doesn’t always mean sorry. Sorry about that.”
The guy threw laughed. “Two peoples divided by a common language. Isn’t that how the saying goes?” He held out his hand, the one Lucian had taken his wallet from.
“I’m Arlo McDonald.”
Lucian took the proffered hand. It was warm and smooth, and big, swamping his own. The squeeze was firm but not crushing, hinting at the strength tucked out of sight.
“And I’m Lucian Blaxston — oh, and who’s this?” he said, as a snort and a snuffle snagged his attention. Leaning over the counter, he looked into the chocolate brown eyes of a small, wire haired mutt, curled at Arlo’s feet.
“This is Peanut.” Arlo bent and petted the dog, who stuffed his snout between his bent front legs. “He’s a shy little cutie who’s not too good in company, but I force him to make the effort sometimes so he doesn’t become too much of a recluse.”
“Sounds like me. The shy bit, I mean. Not the cutie, ‘cause I’m not a…” Oh shit… Could he really make himself look like any more of a dork? He stood up straight and shoved his hands into his front pockets, looking everywhere except at Arlo McDonald.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Arlo said, as though he’d not heard him make an idiot of himself, “but I had to check the contents to see who it belonged to. I kind of guessed it was you. You must have dropped it when you disappeared. Why did you do that?”
“Ah, yes.” Lucian looked down as he shuffled from foot to foot. “The woman who came to clear up. As soon as I saw her, I thought I’d make a dash for it before she threw me out.”
“Why would she?”
“Well… it’s not the first time I’ve caused havoc there.” Lucian grimaced. “Bibi dragged me along one night, soon after I arrived. Somehow, my feet got caught up in somebody’s coat and I stumbled into one of the waitresses carrying a loaded tray of food. Honestly, I didn’t think it was possible for breaded chicken wings to fly so high.
“Later in the evening, I was persuaded to give line dancing a try. Big mistake. I just couldn’t get the hang of it, and I kept going the wrong way and bumping into everybody — including an old lady who I knocked over, and who happened to be the mayor’s wife. I think Randy and his staff only tolerated my presence because of Bibi, who seems to know everybody in town, but I think it’s safer if I steer clear from now on.”
Arlo shook his head and chuckled before they fell into silence. The only sound in the store was the low background buzz of voices from the radio Bibi had switched on in the back room. He scratched the back of his neck, unsure what to say or do under Arlo’s steady gaze. Big, tall Arlo. Very attractive Arlo.
“You’re obviously a long way from home. Collier’s Creek attracts way more visitors than it used to, but it’s not exactly high on the world’s radar.”
“Yes, I am. It’s a long story.” And not one I want to tell.
Arlo nodded, as though he’d picked up on the unspoken message. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the doorbell rang and two women arrived.
“I guess I shouldn’t keep you any longer,” Arlo said with a smile. “Maybe I’ll see you around?” He lifted his brows in question.
“I’m an Englishman in Collier’s Creek, so I’m a difficult one to miss.” Lucian smiled, but it felt like it was being held up by piano wire, as the lie of his own words bit into him. He was very easy to miss.
Arlo waved his goodbye, smiling at the two women as he left. The door clanged shut on his big, warm presence. A cough caught his attention, and he turned to the two women, a practised smile settling on his lips as he wondered where and how he might see Arlo McDonald around.
CHAPTERFIVE
Seconds after the door closed on him, Arlo sneezed. Not once, not twice, not three times… They came tumbling down on each other and he slumped against a wall, watery eyed and breathless. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to take an antihistamine beforehand?
The cloying perfume of the cultivated flowers had been heavy and overpowering. Flowers in parks and fields he could handle, out in the open they were no problem, but enclosed in the flower store they’d been almost suffocating. If the women hadn’t arrived when they did, he’d have had to make a run for it. Next time he called into the flower store, he’d make sure he took that little pill first.
He stood up straight. “Next time? Why am I thinking about a next time?” He looked down at Peanut, who cocked his head as though considering Arlo’s question. He’d found and returned the guy’s wallet, that was all, so what reason was there to be a next time? “I’m being ridiculous.” Peanut whined his agreement, as they set off across the square.
Mid-morning on a bright, clear Saturday, the town was crowded with visitors and locals alike, making their way around the busy farmers’ market.
He still hadn’t gotten used to the Creek hosting a regular farmers’ market, as good as any he’d visited in New York, or in any of the upscale little towns in Massachusetts he’d spent time in. Artisan small batch cheeses, breads, preserves and a whole lot more were all for sale, and commanding a high price, rather than the motley collection of fruit and veg he remembered his mom coming home with. But was it any wonder he’d not known, or had forgotten, when he so seldom ventured into town? The affluent-looking market, and the affluent-looking people spending their dollars, had been one of the many things to surprise him, when he’d come back to the community he’d been raised in, running from New York and the smoldering remains of his old life. He shook his head; it was a warm, bright day, and he wasn’t going to start looking for clouds to blot out the sun.
He’d done what he’d set out to do, but now the wallet was back with Lucian, what now? Arlo looked down at Peanut, seeking inspiration in the big, adoring brown eyes of the rescue mutt. Peanut’s long pink tongue swept around his chops, and Arlo grinned.
