Perfect Kind of Trouble

  “Absolutely.” He nods sincerely. “I’m so sorry about your mom, though. That’s awful.”

  I nod and try to break up the tension. “I’m sorry about your Porsche.”

  He softly laughs. “Monique.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “What?”

  “That was my car’s name.” He nods. “Monique.”

  “You named your car?”

  “Yep.”

  I sniff. “You’re weird.”

  “I am.” He nods once. “Have you eaten yet?”

  I shake my head.

  “Can I make something for you?” He pulls back to look at me. “I want to feed you.”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  Turning away, he starts grabbing ingredients from the fridge and knives from the butcher block. I’m not sure if we’re exactly on full speaking terms yet, so I don’t ask any questions. But he looks so happy, moving around a kitchen. It’s kind of adorable.

  For the next half hour, Daren skitters about the kitchen and whips up a gourmet lunch of prime rib sandwiches and a strawberry fields salad. Mable scolds him a few times for getting in her way or using too much salt, but I see the amusement in her eyes. She likes that Daren enjoys cooking.

  When he’s finished, Daren makes plates for Ellen, Mable, and me, then insists on watching as we take our first bites. It’s so delicious that I make an orgasmic noise. Daren’s eyebrows raise in appreciation. “You like it that much?”

  I nod. “Oh yeah.”

  “Good.” He smiles at me, but then looks unsure. We’re not totally broken anymore but we’re not yet healed either.

  “This is incredible. I had no idea you were skilled in the kitchen, Daren,” Ellen says, swallowing a bite. “Now that Pixie’s gone, I’m looking for a prep cook, you know. It might be time to change your job title.” She smiles.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say Daren was blushing. “I don’t know. I’m not that great. Cooking is just something I do for fun.”

  Mable makes a noise of approval. “This sandwich is pretty great.”

  “We’ll talk,” Ellen says to Daren. “When you come in for your shift on Monday, we’ll talk.”

  He nods. “Okay.”

  She adds, “And hey, maybe you can bring Kayla back with you on Monday to help serve lunch.”

  It’s suddenly awkward, since neither of us knows what’s going to happen between us later today, let alone on Monday.

  “Yeah, maybe,” he says, glancing at me. Then he makes an excuse to leave the kitchen and quickly darts away. I stare at my food for a minute, confused and wishing we could just fix things between us, then decide to go for a walk to clear my head.

  Leaving the kitchen, I head for the lobby, hoping I don’t bump into Daren. Just as I reach the front desk, where Ellen is staring at something on a computer, the inn’s front door bursts open.

  “Frankly, I’m impressed we made it this far without me killing you,” says a pretty girl with long, black hair and tattoos covering her arms as she carries in a duffle bag that looks too big and masculine to be her own. She looks vaguely familiar.

  The guy behind her grins. “What’s with all the death threats? Is that how you handle all of life’s problems? By committing murder?” He’s handsome and looks like downright trouble.

  His dark hair is almost as black and the girl’s, but where her eyes are golden and sharp, his eyes are gray and playful. I know I’ve seen the girl before, somewhere.

  Dropping the duffle bag, she spins around and sneers, looking up and down his tall body. “Just the really big ones.”

  Oh man. She’s clearly attracted to this guy. His smile goes crooked. And wow. He’s knows it.

  “First of all, there’s no need to take your frustration out on my luggage.” He points to the bag on the floor then leans down so their faces are close together. “Second, is that your way of telling me I’m big?”

  They lock gazes and the air between them sizzles. Good God, there’s a lot of sexual tension in the room.

  Ellen, who’s been silently watching from behind the front desk, clears her throat.

  “Jenna.” She smiles. “Welcome to the inn. I didn’t know you were stopping by. Pixie’s not here, though.”

  Jenna! That’s right. I met her at the Fourth of July Bash at the lake a few weeks ago too.

  Jenna whips her eyes to Ellen. “Oh, I’m not here for Pixie,” she says. “I’m here to drop off this bozo”—she points to the handsome guy beside her—“so I can be on my way to New Orleans.”

  “Jenna’s not big on road trip buddies,” he explains. “And she has a hard time being enclosed in small spaces with me. I’m Jack, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Ellen slowly shakes it.

  Jenna throws her hands up and growls. “You infuriating man.”

  He keeps smiling at her. “You’re adorable. I’ll just take my bag back to the car and wait for you until you’re done throwing your temper tantrum.” He nods at Ellen. “It was so nice meeting you.”

  Glaring over her shoulder as he leaves, Jenna marches through the lobby and plows right into me.

  “Oh! Sorry,” she says, taking a step back. Her face softens when she’s sees me. “Hey, I know you.… Kayla right?” She smiles and all the anger and frustration surrounding her instantly disappears.

  I smile. “Yeah. I met you and Sarah—Pixie—Sarah?—at the lake.”

  “That’s right. You stopped to ask for directions to Copper Springs.” She adds, “You can call her Pixie, by the way. I do. So what are you doing here?”

  “At the moment?” I exhale. “Hiding from a guy.”

  She scoffs. “I feel ya. I wish I could hide from that guy.” She tips her chin at the front door and sighs. “But I can’t.”

  I nod understandingly. “Because he’s always around?”

  “No.” She looks at the door longingly. “Because I don’t want to. Don’t get me wrong, the guy pisses me off and makes me want to pluck my leg hairs out one by one, but…” She shrugs and a hint of a smile pulls at her lips. “He makes things interesting. Honestly, I’d be bored without him.”

  Jack pops his head back in the front door and calls out, “I’m ready when you are, Diva!”

  Her puppy dog smile is immediately replaced with a look of complete agitation as she whips her head around and yells, “Don’t. Call. Me. DIVA!”

  He grins at her. “It never gets old.”

  “God!”

  He disappears back out the door and she turns back to me, all smiles and goodness again.

  “So this boy you’re hiding from,” she says. “Does he make things interesting?”

  I think for a moment. We jumped out of a train car, fell down a mudslide, slept in an abandoned house, and showered with handcuffs on—and all in the last seventy-two hours.

  “Yes,” I say. “He’s the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  She smiles. “Then what are you hiding from?”

  36

  Daren

  With carefully planned routes through the inn, I manage to avoid Kayla for most of the day. It’s not that I don’t like to see her—I very much enjoy looking at her. But I just don’t know what to say to her. I loved feeding her, but she was so sad about everything she’d learned about her mom that I felt like drudging up any issue she and I have would have been petty.

  I need to say sorry but sorry has never come easy for me, especially when it comes to girls. I’ve never really put much effort into making up with members of the opposite sex. Once they burn me, I typically back off so I can’t get burned again. It’s a rule of mine and, up until three days ago, it worked flawlessly.

  But for some reason my chest just won’t seem to loosen up with all this guilt and gloom. I can walk away from any girl anywhere, but not Kayla.

  The sound of jingling keys meets my ears and I turn to see Ellen approaching the front desk, where I’ve been restacking printing paper for the past ten minutes.

  She smiles. “The repai
r guy towed Kayla’s car to Latecomers and gave it a jump, so it should be working now. I’m going to grab Kayla and we’ll meet you outside. You ready to go?”

  I nod. “Yep. I’ll be out in fifteen minutes. I’m sure Kayla wants to get away from me as soon as possible.”

  Ellen narrows her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because,” I sigh, angry with myself, “I basically slaughtered her to pieces with my words the other day.”

  “Ah,” she says softly with a short nod. “That explains your guilt.”

  I frown. I wasn’t aware my guilt was noticeable. Shit.

  “But what about hers?” she says.

  “Hers?” I wrinkle my brow.

  “Yeah,” Ellen says. “Kayla’s been darting her eyes away from you and looking at the floor every time I try to speak with her about you… just like you’re doing now.”

  I snap my eyes from the floor and meet her gaze. “That doesn’t mean she feels guilty.”

  “Well it certainly doesn’t mean she’s angry. You should talk to her.” She smiles. “Girls are big on communication.”

  “Why, so she can tell me what a jackass I am?”

  “Maybe.” Ellen shrugs. “But if it meant you’d get her back, wouldn’t it be worth it?”

  “Get her back?” I shake my head. “I never had her.”

  Ellen smiles with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, Daren. There is so much you don’t know about women.”

  37

  Kayla

  From how sexy and beautiful Ellen is and how put together she looks, I expected her to drive something sleek and flashy. Something sporty and wild, or maybe sophisticated and expensive. But instead, she walks me outside to an old beat-up bright yellow truck.

  She laughs at the look on my face. “What were you expecting? A Porsche like Daren’s?”

  I laugh. “No. Yes. Maybe. I think I pictured you driving something fancy.”

  She nods with a smile. “I get that a lot. I think it’s because of the high heels I wear, or maybe just my overall appearance. Whatever the reason¸ I like to surprise people now and then by doing something that seems ‘out of character’ for the way I look.”

  “Oh!” I immediately feel bad. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to stereotype you by your appearance, I swear.”

  She laughs. “It’s no big deal. It’s just the way it is. The way I look makes life easier in a lot of ways, but it sometimes leads to people making assumptions about me.” She tilts her head at me. “But I’m sure you know all about unfair assumptions based on beauty.”

  I open my mouth but don’t know what to say.

  Ellen steps closer. “It’s okay to be aware of your beauty, Kayla. In fact, it’s important. It’s okay to know you’re pretty and to know that the world treats you differently because of it. It’s only a problem if you use your beauty to manipulate others, or make others feel bad. Which, after getting to know you a little bit, I’m confident you would never do. So it’s okay. Be beautiful.” She grins. “Hey and maybe someday you can surprise someone by driving a giant yellow truck.”

  She gets into the truck and I walk around to the other side. As I slide into my seat I almost feel like crying. In just a few sentences, this woman who was a stranger until just yesterday showed me more understanding than any other woman has in my whole life. And she gave me permission to look the way I do without feeling guilty or ashamed.

  Without thinking, I lean over and wrap my arms around Ellen. “Thank you.”

  She hugs me back, embracing me tightly. When we pull away she looks at me.

  “You know what, Kayla Turner?” She smiles softly. “You’re amazing. And the world is just going to have to be okay with that.”

  I laugh and wipe away the single tear dripping down my cheek just as the back door opens. I seriously have a crying problem lately.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late,” Daren hurriedly says as he climbs inside the truck and shuts the door.

  “No problem.” Ellen turns the engine on and pulls away from Willow Inn. Then she glances at me with a sympathetic face. “I talked to the tow truck guy and he was able to jump your car and give it a little juice, but he said it’s on its last legs and probably won’t last much longer.”

  I sigh and nod. “Yeah. I knew it was coming. It’s just a matter of time before it’ll just die altogether. But at least it’s working for me now and I have a way to get around.” I glance back at Daren, knowing he’s completely car-less and wondering what his plan is, or if he even has one.

  I think about Jenna’s words all afternoon. She seemed so frustrated with that Jack guy, but at the same time so sure she wanted him around. Because he was interesting.

  Daren has been nonstop interesting—and absolute trouble, just like I thought. But it was the kind of trouble I needed to feel alive. It shook me up. It woke me up. It was the perfect kind of trouble.

  I glance in the mirror at the beautiful boy in the backseat.

  And I want to be in it all over again.

  38

  Daren

  The drive from Willow Inn to Copper Springs is just over an hour, but so far it’s felt like it’s taking us days. Most of the trip has been filled with light conversation—mostly initiated by Ellen—about nothing of real substance. We’ve stayed away from all the big topics. But during our drive, I learned some new things about Kayla. Like how she’s never had any pets and how she dated a jerk named Jeremy for a year, who treated her like a trophy he took out into public and showed off but never bothered to get to know who she really was. And she graduated at the top of her class in high school.

  And thanks to Ellen’s extensive knowledge of my personal life, Kayla’s learned a few things about me. Like how Marcella died of a brain aneurism three years ago and I cried for two days.

  But even though the entire ride has been us talking about, well, us, Kayla and I haven’t spoken—or looked at each other—once. Which is fine with me. But the closer we get to Copper Springs, the sweatier my palms get.

  Because both Kayla and I know that she has no place to sleep tonight. And if she spends the money Ellen gave her on another hotel room, she’ll be broke by tomorrow. I know Amber can probably give me a ride home from Latecomers, but what’s Kayla’s plan? Driving to the Quickie Stop?

  The idea of Kayla sleeping by herself again at that disgusting motel makes me want to punch something really hard.

  If only we’d been able to find the inheritance money none of this would be an issue. Maybe we shouldn’t have given up so quickly. We were both frustrated and angry yesterday, neither of us thinking clearly. If we could just work things out between us then maybe we could figure out the last clue and Kayla would never again have to subject herself to a place like the Quickie Stop.

  “Can I buy you guys dinner?” Ellen asks as we turn into the Latecomers parking lot. We start to protest, but she dismisses us as she pulls the truck into a parking space by the courtyard. “I insist. Now get out so I can feed you.”

  The three of us walk into Latecomers and Amber lights up when she sees us. “Ellen!” She comes out from behind the bar and gives Ellen a big hug.

  Ellen is good friends with Amber’s mom and has always treated Amber like a niece. And Amber thinks the world of Ellen.

  “Hi, beautiful.” Ellen smiles.

  Pulling back from the hug, Amber smiles at us. “Hi guys.” She waves us over to the counter. “Come sit at the bar.”

  We each find a barstool. Ellen sits in between Kayla and me, a human buffer between the tension we’ve brought to the bar, and Amber takes our drink order. As Ellen and Kayla fall into a deep conversation about her father, Amber sets my drink down in front of me and leans in.

  She lowers her voice. “So what’s going on?”

  I lower my voice to match hers. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been hearing all sorts of stories about you and Kayla Turner running around town in handcuffs,” she says, lifting a brow. “What’s that about?”

  I shake
my head and quickly fill her in on Turner’s will.

  “No. Way.” She stares at me. “That’s insane.” She looks back and forth between Kayla and me. “So where are the handcuffs now?”

  I scratch the back of my neck. “In Kayla’s suitcase, I think. Angelo picked the lock for us and I saw her toss them in there.”

  “So you forfeited the money?” she squawks.

  “We couldn’t find the money,” I say. “So we decided to give up on the scavenger hunt.”

  “Just like that?” She looks upset. “Why? Why would you give up so easily?”

  I shake my head. “It’s a long story.”

  She narrows her gaze at me. “Daren Ackwood. Did you sleep with her?”

  “Wha—no!” I say sternly. “No, I did not sleep with her.” I pause. “Well, actually I did sleep with her—but I didn’t have sex with her.”

  She pins me with her eyes. “What did you do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she says, jutting her chin, “how did you fuck things up with Kayla?” She nods at Kayla, who’s still in deep conversation with Ellen. “You keep looking at her like she’s your long-lost puppy, and she keeps glancing at you like she’s afraid you’re going to take off at any moment. So what happened?”

  I play with my glass. “Nothing. She just… She can do better than me.”

  Amber swats me with her bar towel. Hard.

  “Ow—dammit. What?”

  She points at me and lowers her voice. “I let you throw a pity party for yourself for seven years, but you’re a man now. You’re a good man who’s worthy of a good woman. So suck up your insecurities and go fix things with Kayla.”

  I glare at her, but I know she’s right.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Amber says.

  I stare at the bruise on my wrist and nod. “I like her. A lot.”

  Amber scans my face for a moment and a smile tugs at her lips. “Oh my. Has Daren Ackwood fallen in love?” She sucks in a breath when I don’t respond. “I knew it. I knew the moment I saw your face when she wouldn’t shake your hand the other night. You’re totally smitten with her.” She giggles. “God, this makes me so happy.”