Page 34 of Where It All Began
She’d imagined a summer fling and a romantic goodbye, providing them both with sweet memories to treasure. But she hadn’t considered what would happen if one of them wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
Having to crush his dreams if things wenttoowell between the sheets? To her, that was far more likely than an icy breakup leaving both partners without what they needed most this summer. And it was just like her to have not considered that in her pursuit of him.
Shit. Double shit.
Oblivious to Phoebe’s internal turmoil, Mrs. Nordemann chattered on and on about fall weddings and the joys of life in Blue Moon.
“Oh, would you look at the time?” Phoebe held up her bare wrist to check the watch that wasn’t there. “I’d better go see if the toilet paper roll needs changed.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You got yourself a real fine roommate there, John,” Alfie Cofax said between bites of his third hot dog. Alfie was scrawny as a scarecrow with tufts of red hair standing up on end and a face full of freckles. He looked to be about fourteen but had a few years on John. He also had a wife and three kids.
John hmmed noncommittally.
“Yep. I wouldn’t mind chasing that around the corn fields,” Alfie whooped in appreciation as Phoebe strolled by, hips swaying, hair swinging, this time with someone’s distraught toddler in her arms.
“Isn’t that your kid?” Michael Cardona asked, elbowing Alfie in the gut and nodding at Phoebe.
“Ah, crap. I forgot I was supposed to be watchin’ him.” Alfie chased after Phoebe leaving John and Michael alone at the grill.
“He’s not wrong, you know,” Michael said, admiring Phoebe’s long legs.
“Don’t start, Cardona,” John growled a warning.
“I’m just stating a fact. She’s a good-looking woman. People are going to notice. Unless of course they’re brain dead.” Michael sent John a pointed look that he ignored. John slapped another row of burgers on the grill and pretended it was Michael’s face.
“You know what I think?” John picked up his beer.
“What?”
“I think I need a new beer,” he said, wiggling the empty can.
“Dude, seriously. Why aren’t you moving on that?” Michael asked, exasperated. “It’s like Hot Girl Heaven delivered an angel straight to you, and you’re too dumb to make a move.”
“I’m not too dumb to make a move. I’m not looking for a good time with no potential. End of summer comes, and she’s out of here. Or worse, things blow up mid-summer, and I’m left without the help I need around here. Besides, I’m starting to think about permanent.”
Michael looked at him as if he’d just announced he was going to grill up one or two of the smaller guests. “Permanent? Like marriage?” he scoffed.
John shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Not now, but when I have this place up and running at capacity in a few years, why the hell not?”
Michael slapped a hand on his shoulder. “John, I’m fearing for your mental health.”
“Aren’t you sick of chasing women, yet? Don’t you wonder what it would be like to come home to the same face every day? Have kids, build a life? I’m too old for fucking around, and you should be too.”
Michael snorted. “If I ever get too old for fucking, run me over with your shitty tractor.”
“With pleasure. I could take care of it today,” John offered.
“You know, since you’re not interested in Phoebe, I think I’ll ask her out.”
“Why am I even friends with you?” John muttered, moving another group of hot dogs over to a plate and tossing a blackened one to Murdock who was cowering under the porch stairs.
“Who knows,” Michael shrugged. “You’d probably get more girls if you didn’t stand so close to me and all my prettiness.”
“You’re such a dick,” John muttered. “And if you don’t shut the fuck up about Phoebe—who is permanently off-limits as far as you’re concerned—I’m going to tell you what I’ve been avoiding mentioning since senior year.”
“Oh, really? And what’s that? What life-changing advice do you have for me, Pierce?” Michael prodded.
