“No. Not the whole thing.” She flashed a grin. “Just the bracket on the back corner. That’s the banging noise, although building a whole ice machine would be amazing.” Beryl motioned him over as she went to the machine to show him the problem.
She stepped forward and grabbed the offending banging bracket to make it stop for a few beats, then released it to return to its loud, banging ways. He moved in closer to examine it and she almost swooned, leaning one arm against the wall to steady herself. He smelled great. Like leather, metal and delicious man. He stooped to look at the bracket she had released, smiled and nodded.
“Oh, sure, I can make another one of those brackets. Easy.” He lifted himself away from the ice machine and his arm brushed hers.
Spark!
Dang he is fine… No! Stop it!the strident voice in her head snapped.You are not interested in a romance. Not. Interested!
“By the way, I’m Jake Jones, owner of Dark Matter Metal & Leather.” His voice seemed to override the ice machine’s racket and touch something deep inside her.
She nodded and knew her smile was on the goofy side when she said, “Beryl Ashcraft. Grateful owner of a currently loud, annoying ice machine that I fervently hope is about to be fixed. Or partially fixed.”
He grinned and she swore she heard angels singing—and this time, Aunt Dixie had nothing to do with it. “Let me get my tools. They’re out in my truck. I’ll be able to get an accurate measurement and then it shouldn’t take longer than a day at most to create a new bracket.”
“Excellent.” She could not for the life of her stop staring. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He headed out to the parking lot and Beryl watched every step he took.
Sounding rather forlorn, Deputy Sam Brody said, “At least Jake’s a nice guy, for a human.”
For a human?Beryl had felt a spark with ahuman? She’d have to give that some thought.
If they got serious and wanted to get married, falling for a human would result in a one-way ticket back to Alpha-Prime. And Beryl couldn’t go back to Alpha-Prime.
No. Shewouldn’tgo back.
Chapter Three
Jake Jones had entered the Supernova Supermarket with the mundane goal of getting some groceries because his cupboards were bare, or nearly so. He’d exhausted the supply of casseroles and bountiful food donated by all the neighbors, friends and acquaintances who’d been very generous once they learned he had returned home from the hospital.
For a group of people he couldn’t even remember, he was sincerely grateful to have them all in his life. The life he could not remember. Not an inkling. Not a flicker of recognition for anyone. It was a crazy situation. But he figured there were worse things and decided the best he could do was roll with it. So he did.
The closest friend he had—as near as he could figure—was Frederick Khang, who managed Dark Matter Metal & Leather for him. Even thinking the name of his store in his head made him smile. At least he hadn’t forgottenthat.
He thought it fit right in with all the interesting business names in Alienn, Arkansas. The Cosmos Café, The Big Bang Truck Stop, The Black Hole Movie Theater (not to be confused with the Black Hole Car Wash) and the Gamma-Ray Gallery were among the many enterprises that riffed off the outer space escapades of Maxwell the Martian. The gray alien mascot dangled from the side of the town’s distinctive water tower, its top in the shape of a disc-like spaceship from some 1950s creature-feature.
While he remembered nothing of his personal life before waking in the hospital, learning he was the owner of a leather and metal shop seemed like an odd profession for him for no reason he could put a finger on. His first thought on being told about it at the hospital had been, “That can’t be right, can it?” But all the facts pointed to that very vocation.
He was also banged up quite a bit, whether from falling into the road and narrowly missing being mown down by a van—so he’d been told—or due to whatever had happened to himbeforehe’d stumbled onto a lonely, narrow backroad.
Still, he couldn’t deny the lure of his workshop once he got inside and saw the many in-progress projects that filled it. He knew in his bones the place washisworkshop. It was the only thing that was familiar to him.
The projects called to him. Theywerehis creations. He knew it in his soul. It warmed him to recognize something, anything from his forgotten life.
Jake easily pictured how to finish crafting each piece in his workspace, as if his creativity lived in his brain even if his memories had taken a leave of absence. The moment he’d entered the workshop and looked around, he’d been eager to get back to work.
As he hurried out to the parking lot of the Supernova Supermarket and grabbed his toolbox out of the locked carrier case in the bed of his truck, Jake was anxious to get back inside to spend more time with Beryl Ashcraft. He wanted to help her with whatever she might need.
When he’d woken in the hospital to find his life to that point was a black hole, Jake had worried that he had a wife or fiancée out there somewhere who he couldn’t remember. Thankfully, Frederick had assured him that wasn’t the case. He didn’t even have a casual girlfriend tucked away anywhere.
Before his memories had been lost, Jake had apparently told Frederick in no uncertain terms that he was not married, engaged or even dating, nor was he looking to change his relationship status. He hadn’t explained his reasons to the man, but had been clear that his love life was not a priority.
It was Frederick’s responsibility to field all the phone calls for the business. Once a woman had tried to pass herself off as Jake’s wife but, forewarned, Frederick had taken care of it. His manager told him pre-memory loss Jake suspected a scam of some kind.
On his way back inside the supermarket, Jake wondered if he should reconsider his previous stance on a romantic relationship. It wasn’t like he could remember why he’d been so against it. He thought he might very much like to ask Beryl out—once they’d completed their business, of course.
Not dating the clientele was a rule in most businesses and should certainly apply to his. All that meant was he’d have to exercise some patience.
