She grabbed the book off the shelf and went to the checkout where she gave herself an employee discount and put her cash in the drawer. At the thought of handing him the gift, her heart trampled her lungs. She could just leave it in his truck—it was parked right in front of thestore. He’d surely know it was from her, but she could live with that. She wanted him to have the book—a sort of peace offering.
She placed the novel in a brown paper bag and waited for an opportunity. Today would likely be his last day at the shop, so she didn’t have much time. After today she’d only see him when he mowed, if then. When he took a lunch break, she had her chance.
Gray left the comfortable shade of the live oak and left the park. He preferred to be finished at the bookshop by lunchtime so he had time to go home and shower before his shift at the hardware store. He didn’t dare show up late as Joe Lang would love an excuse to fire him. Gray wished he had other options. But he’d applied all over town for a summer job and only got that one because his grandma pulled in a favor.
He only had one more bed to mulch and the front of the store would be complete. He dumped his garbage as he passed a trash can. The store was only a block away, so it was a quick walk back.
On the way he mentally tallied the money adding up in his bank account. Even if he got that scholarship—and he would—he would incur other costs at college. It didn’t cover books or lodging. But between what he’d saved this summer and what he’d make while working part-time at college, he should be able to swing it. He’d narrowed down his choices to three colleges: Vanderbilt, Rollins, and Appalachian State. All of them were close enough he could check in on his grandma regularly.
Granny had offered to take out a home equity loan for college, but he’d never allow that. She’d already taken him in when he had no place to go. And his dad had taken advantage of her generosity many times before he went to prison. Gray refused to be that kind of person.
If he was going to make something of himself—and he was—he’d do it on his own.
When he reached the bookstore he went back to work and finished just over an hour later. Miss Viola had said she’d settle up with him at the end of the week, so there was no reason to linger. He packed up his tools.
A few minutes later as he headed toward his truck, he thought of Shelby inside the store. They didn’t exactly run in the same circles, and he’d miss those random encounters. The chance to push her buttons. He enjoyed getting her all riled up. It was so opposite to the sunny personality she normally exuded. He loved that she was such a paradox.
He dumped his tools in the truck bed, then opened the door to get in the cab. His gaze caught on something sitting on his hood. He frowned at the brown bag as he walked around the open door. It was leaning against the windshield, the top folded over several times.
A couple months ago someone had left a gift bag on their porch. He assumed it was for Granny from one of her friends and made the mistake of bringing it into the house. The stench quickly alerted him to his mistake. The bag was literally full of crap.
Gray surveyed the area for some clue as to who might’ve left today’s “gift.” A lady was headed into the bookshop. Miss Patsy was outside putting up sale signage for her boutique. Other than that, no one was around.
Gray returned his attention to the bag. He wasn’t afraid of a little dog crap, but he wouldn’t put it past Devon or Drew to gift him with a copperhead snake, and that could end badly.
He grabbed a rake from the bed and used the handle to knock the sack from the hood. It landed on the pavement with a thud. He watched it for a sign of movement but the bag remained still, so he set the rake aside, glancing around once again for anyone loitering. Seeing no one, he cautiously opened the sack, then widened its mouth.
Not smelling anything, he peeked inside. A book. He lifted the bagand pulled out a hardcover copy of Lee Child’s new release—one he’d been anticipating.
His thoughts went back a couple of days to when he’d mentioned the author to Shelby. His gaze darted toward the second-story window. A shadow darted away. Or maybe that was just a trick of the light.
Recalling the spectacle he’d just made of himself, he hoped it was the latter. But as he got in the truck, still clutching the brand-new book, he could only think about one fact.
Shelby Thatcher had given him a gift.
It didn’t even matter that she probably hadn’t even had to pay for it. Or that it was likely some kind of guilt offering for the way her boyfriend and his minions had treated him the day before.
The only thing that mattered was that Shelby had remembered his love of the author and taken the time to do something kind for him. Interesting that she’d left it for him to find rather than giving it to him directly. Maybe she was afraid of making him feel like a charity case. Or maybe she was just too shy to... extend an offer of friendship? Was that what this was? He glanced at the book, the notion giving rise to a bubble of hope.
He scowled at his reaction. Ideas like that were sure to get him in trouble. But that didn’t stop him from taking one last glance at the bookshop window as he pulled away.
Chapter 12
Present day
Gray’s empty stomach churned as he headed slowly through town. There were a few places open on a Friday night, but he didn’t feel like meeting with opposition. He’d make do with the frozen pizza he had at home.
He leaned an elbow out the window as he braked for a red light. The refreshing fall breeze carried the aroma of grilled burgers from Scully’s Tavern. Tempting. But after that talk with Shelby about the store’s finances, he was depleted. He felt somehow responsible even though that was unreasonable. He hadn’t caused the problem, only discovered it. Still, the look on her face, the tremor in her voice... It about killed him. Made him long tofixit.
He still felt so protective of her. And also guilty for the heartache he’d caused in the past. He’d been meaning to bring that up. To beg her forgiveness. He’d been waiting for the right time. But his time was up and now she probably hated him even more.
The tavern door swung open, emitting loud rock music—and a dog exited with the help of the business end of a broom. “Scat! Get outta here.” The door fell shut again.
The mutt scampered away, tail tucked. The medium-sized dog reminded him of Bullet, his childhood dog, with his light, long-haired coatand floppy ears. Dad hadn’t allowed him inside the trailer, but Gray spent many hours playing with him in their small yard. Sometimes he seemed like Gray’s only real friend.
The light turned green.
The dog wandered to the trash can near the beauty salon’s entry and jumped up, sniffing the contents. How long had it been since the dog had a decent meal? Was his owner searching for him?
