Page 45 of Plentywood
Just after Jay had had his flushed cheeks under control a second before, they reloaded the heat and he lit up again. “We only went to Smitty’s for Mrs. Gellar and her birthday cake,” he defended. “I swear, Hunt.”
“Calm the fuck down, Deputy. And tell Jennie she didn’t see anything,” I instructed. “Besides, I’m not looking to date.” Jay stepped in front of me as I tried to get past him. “What the hell, dude?” I asked, trying to push him aside.
He remained firmly planted in my path. “I’m supposed to ask you to come over for dinner, Hunt,” he revealed. “I told Jennie she shouldn’t mess in folks’ affairs, but she insisted.”
“And whom might I run into if I attend Jennie’s little dinner?”
“She has a prenatal check up with the new doctor on Monday,” he admitted sheepishly. “I couldn’t say no to her, Hunt. I’m sorry. She demanded I make this happen. Jennie is acting all strange right now, what with her being pregnant and all.”
I gripped his shoulder. “You’re a good husband, Jay, and I understand. You tell Jennie to let me know what the doctor says when she asks him. Okay?” I asked. “You done good now, buddy. You’ve done your part.”
Jay wiped his forehead and let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Hunt.” He looked from side to side before leaning into me.“Jennie’s acting real crazy lately. I was afraid to go home tonight and not have asked you.”
“And now you have,” I stated. “Let me know how her appointment goes with the doctor,” I said, actually hoping Jennie would convince the doctor to be there. I’d definitely attend for a chance at some one-on-one time with him.
Once inside my rig, I laughed to myself about how my small town was always concerning itself with other people’s business. I knew they came from a good place and that being nosy wasn’t the entire reason. People in Plentywood cared. They cared for me, and they’d loved Mark. They’d proven that when he passed suddenly.
At the first corner of my patrol, I spotted the doctor out back of the clinic. He was standing in front of his overpriced Mercedes, the hood open and his arms crossed. He kept looking around like he wondered if anyone was nearby who could help him figure out what he was looking at.
I pulled alongside him in the parking lot. “Doc?” I asked, after rolling my window down. “Everything okay?”
“Nothing happened when I pushed the start button,” he explained, appearing flustered and perplexed. “You don’t exactly need a key even though I have a key,” he continued, holding up a key fob with an impressive Mercedes Benz key attached. “I’m not sure if I have to be inside with the door shut or not. There isn’t even a keyhole for a key. Is that normal?”
I hopped out of the SUV and peeked inside the open door of his car. I couldn’t spot a keyhole for a key either but didn’t want to sound as equally lost as he did. “May I see your key?”
I slid into the driver’s seat and he handed me the car key. There was a button that readstart,so I pushed it. Nothing. I turned the headlight knob. Nothing.
“Is there a problem with the key?” he asked, his gorgeous face scrunched up in the hope I’d solved his problem. Helooked exactly like Mark whenever a mechanical issue arose that confused him. Utterly helpless.
“I think your battery is dead. When was the last time you started the car?” I asked. “I know the car is new, but nothing lights up on the dash.”
Ben went around to the passenger side and climbed in. “I’ve driven the car once since I arrived last month,” he acknowledged. “Is that bad?”
God!He was cute and helpless. I liked cute and helpless guys a lot. “Your car is brand new, so it shouldn’t be an issue if you don’t drive all that much,” I explained. “Were you inside the glove box just now?” I asked, pointing at the open glove box near his knees.
“A few days ago, I was,” he replied.
“Did you shut it after you got what you needed out of it?”
He puckered his lips and gazed at the open glove box before turning to me. His eyes caused my heart to stop. Brilliant green, catching the late evening sun. His mouth moved, but I was time traveling back to the first time I’d noticed Mark’s eyes. I was fourteen when it dawned on me that my dead husband had those incredible eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, waving a hand in front of my face. “You zoned out for a second, sheriff.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, quickly turning away. “Did you shut the glove box after you got out of the car the other day?” I repeated, embarrassed by my brief disconnect. I swiped at the corners of my eyes before turning back to him.
“Are you crying?” he asked, laying his hand on my arm.
I was about to deny crying when a tear fell to my lap. I hadn’t even noticed it escape my eye. “Your eyes… it’s just,” I began, my throat clamping down on my ability to finish my sentence. “They’re…”
Jesus!Before I knew it, a sob escaped me. I literally couldn’t speak. I was inches away from him, his hand resting on my arm, and I was on lockdown physically. “Breathe, Hunt,” he whispered. “Slow and deep breathing. In through your nose, and then slowly out of your mouth. Relax and exhale,” he soothed, sounding clinical at the same time.
To say I was embarrassed was a major understatement. I wanted to die. I stared straight ahead and out of the windshield. He hadn’t moved his hand yet and was gently caressing my arm while I concentrated on breathing. After a couple more minutes, I managed to speak.
“Sometimes a memory flashes into my mind out of nowhere,” I began. “Or I see something that reminds me…” I caught another sob. “Of him.”
“You mentioned my eyes,” Ben whispered, still and unbelievably driving me completely mad with his hand lightly caressing my arm.
I faced him and gazed deeper into them. My reaction was emotional and unsettling. How many times had I wished I could see Mark and his amazing eyes one last time? “They’re haunting,” I whispered. “I hope this doesn’t come across as crazy or weird, but you have the exact same eyes as my husband. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t prepared for that,” I added, clearing my throat and sitting up straighter in the driver’s seat.
