Her Small-Town Romance

What did he want to talk to her about? He probably felt sorry for her. Or was asking her not to come to class because she needed professional guidance. So help her, if he handed her the card of a therapist to work through her fears, she’d rip it up in front of him. She’d tried counseling. It hadn’t worked. She would only try it again if truly desperate.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I need to clear something up. You could call it a confession.” Bryan shifted from one foot to the other.

A confession? Her spirits perked right up. Confessions didn’t involve condescending advice about her problem.

“Yeah, so earlier, I made it sound as if I’m married, but I got divorced almost five years ago.”

“Oh.” Divorced. There went his unavailable status, which was too bad, because him being single complicated things. The fact he’d found her to clear up a tiny misunderstanding said a lot about his character, though.

“Um, I—” he massaged the back of his neck “—well, it was wrong of me to mislead you.”

She prepared to give him her thanks-for-stopping-by speech, but he looked so contrite and uncomfortable on her doorstep. Sympathy overrode her good judgment.

“It’s not a big deal.” She leaned against the doorframe. She’d play it cool. Pretend she wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest. “I just want to be able to live here and drive to Target or a shopping mall, and, you know, go to one of the parks without hyperventilating.”

His lips lifted into a lopsided grin. “I could help with that.”

“I don’t know if anyone can help. I’m not exactly the ideal student.”

“Yeah, but you’re my only student. I can’t afford to be picky.” His blue eyes teased, and her tummy flipped.

“That’s true.” She nodded in mock sincerity. Why couldn’t she say goodbye and close the door? Flirting with him would get her heart in trouble the way flirting always did. When would she learn? Still, she didn’t know anyone here, and loneliness weighed heavily on her shoulders.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked. “There’s a pizza place around the corner.”

Her stomach rumbled. Empty, silent apartment? Or pizza with all-wrong-for-her Bryan Sheffield? Before she could talk herself out of it, she nodded. “Let me grab my purse, and I’ll meet you outside.”

Less than a minute later, she joined him on the sidewalk in front of her building. No light poured from the large front window, making the store appear abandoned. The chilly air slipped under her collar. She zipped her jacket to her neck.

“This way,” Bryan said.

Jade fell in beside him. The sun had gone to sleep, and the stars blinked on one by one in the clear, ink-black sky. “I can’t remember the last time I stepped out at night and saw such bright stars.”

“Really?” He kept his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I grew up in a seventies ranch house in Winchester, a suburb of Las Vegas not too far from downtown. City lights hazed the sky.” A far cry from her current rural address.

“I’ve never spent much time in the city.”

“No? The air smells different here.” Jade tried to pinpoint the source. If she had to label it, she’d call it fresh.

“What does it smell like in Vegas?” His unhurried strides made it easy for her to keep pace with him.

“It depends. If you’re on the sidewalks of the Strip, you’ll smell gasoline fumes, exhaust from the line of taxis and cigarette smoke. Basically, you’ll smell cigarettes everywhere outside in Las Vegas.”

“Can’t say I’m a fan of those.”

“Me, neither. I worked for an advertising company geared to the hotels. I loathed crossing through the lobbies when I had to go on-site and not just because they reeked of cologne. The colors, noises and smells were an assault on the senses.”

“Advertising, huh?”

“Yep.” She rubbed her cold hands together. “The competitive job atmosphere wasn’t my thing. Too cutthroat.” She’d never had the heart to play politics the way her coworkers had. If they wanted an account, they did whatever it took to land it, even if it meant taking credit for someone else’s work or schmoozing people they didn’t care for.

“Did you like living in Vegas?”

Mimi’s smiling face came to mind. So many good memories. “Yes. It was home. Living in Michigan is going to be an adjustment.” She burrowed deeper into her jacket. “The main reason I loved it there was because of my grandmother. I lived with her most of my life. Poppi worked at Nellis Air Force Base, and after he died, Mimi didn’t want to move.”

“So you lived with your grandmother until now?” He didn’t sound judgmental, merely curious.

“Well, there were a few months on my own in New York City, but Mimi got stomach cancer, and I moved back in with her.”

“To take care of her.”

“Yeah. She raised me.” Those terrible final weeks with Mimi had been excruciating, yet in many ways, joyful, too. Hospice had helped Mimi die peacefully. Jade had no doubt she and Mimi would be having cozy conversations in heaven for eternity. “I hope you don’t think I did it out of duty. I loved her.”

“She passed, then?” When they reached Main Street, he turned left.

“Two months ago.”

Jade paused as Bryan opened the wooden door of a brick storefront. Light spilled onto the sidewalk from the huge window. Lake Endwell Pizza was etched in bold black letters with a traditional font. Not flashy, but good, smart branding. A little round table for two had been centered under the window, and a young couple simultaneously reached for slices, then laughed as cheese stretched from their pizza back to the metal pan.

“You coming?” He swept his hand for her to enter. She savored the aroma of oregano and garlic and enjoyed the warmth of the room. He led her to a rectangular table for four next to an exposed brick wall. Teenagers clad in black tees, jeans and white aprons joked behind the counter. Most of the tables, all wooden, were occupied. No one looked out of place here. Jeans, sweaters and hoodies ruled.

Bryan scrutinized a menu as if it held the secret to world peace. She didn’t bother picking one up. Three women in their fifties laughed at something, and Jade smiled. Their happiness was contagious.

“What toppings do you like?” He peered over the menu.

“Anything but onions. Oh, and no anchovies.”

His lips curved up, and her breath caught in her throat. What a smile. Maybe she would have been better off staying home in her empty apartment. She had a bad habit of falling for a killer smile, then being left to pick up the pieces when its owner vanished.

A scrawny teen with a pen in one hand and a slim pad of paper in the other appeared next to their table. “What can I get you?”

They ordered drinks and the Deluxe minus onions, and the kid disappeared.

She tilted her head to the side. “So is this the best pizza place in town or the only one?”

“The best.”

“Hey, Bryan.” A tall, dark-haired man waved and approached their table. Following him was a stunning young woman with long blond hair, dark skinny jeans and a baby-blue sweater that perfectly matched her cornflower eyes. They made a striking couple. The blondie kept tugging on the man’s arm, shaking her head and whispering something.

The muscle in Bryan’s cheek flickered. “Libby. Jake.”

Jade’s brain went into overdrive. Who was this mystery couple whom Bryan clearly didn’t want to see?

“Jade—” his eyes were all apology “—this is my little sister, Libby, and her husband, Jake.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Jade shifted and smiled.