Shy Girl Page 5

  “Th-thanks.” I stepped farther into the room. “I’m p-p-prepping a few pieces to see if they’ll s-sell in Jackson City.”

  “Sweet.”

  He said it low and quiet, as though with reverence. His enthusiasm seemed sincere. He ran a hand over one of the projects that I’d recently set aside out of sheer frustration and a need to unblock the design in my head. The plans for a chair with a pull out drawer on the bottom and shelves on the sides seemed so clear in my mind, but hadn’t puzzled together the way I wanted it to be in reality.

  Which was just so like life.

  “You’re sanding each board?” he asked with a glance to the powder on the floor. Was that surprise or curiosity in his tone? I couldn’t tell. I chewed on my bottom lip before nodding, uneasy at his questions. No one had ever cared. Beneath my surprise, however, was a layer of excitement.

  Someone cared about my pallet work!

  “Yes. A p-planer would be so much easier,” I said, then let the rest of the sentence drop. But I can’t afford to buy more tools. Not until I know this furniture will sell.

  “Do you have a hard time getting the boards to match evenly?”

  “S-sometimes. P-p-pallets are more rough than uneven.” My fist flexed at my side, where bandaids dotted different fingers thanks to slivers from a particularly rough batch Rick had sent. “The s-s-s-sanding is . . . k-kind of annoying.”

  He smirked. “I bet.”

  Jayson crouched over a few pieces again, his gaze darting around as he inspected the whole mess. His interest surprised me. Did he like to work with his hands? Build? For me, piecing things together with hammer and nails had been more than a hobby growing up. It had been the only way I could create safety and escape. Tree houses. Forts. A bed with room to crawl underneath it. Anything to create structure in a world that felt as loose as jello.

  Now, my penchant for fiddling with board and nail and hammer could be the answer to . . . well . . . me. It would provide the extra income to get me to Texas and close this gaping door in my life.

  Jayson straightened and put his hands on his hips. I swallowed hard and turned away so my gaze didn't idle on the broad shoulders or perfectly sculpted chest beneath his casual t-shirt. Seeing him without his deputy uniform made him so totally . . . normal.

  “Do you take custom orders?” he asked.

  “S-sure?”

  His eyes glimmered with amusement. He shot back, “Is that a question?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you never received a custom order?”

  Heat returned to my neck again. “Ah, yes I have. B-b-but it wasn’t in p-person. My friend, Rick, got it f-f-for me.”

  A calculating gleam appeared in his eyes, one that made it seem as if his thoughts were a thousand miles away from here. When he blinked back to the present moment, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  “How much family do you have?” he asked. A note of the sheriff’s deputy lingered in his tone, as if he were about to interrogate me.

  “Why?” I asked and realized I’d taken a step back. Nothing in my life was exciting enough to take note of, nor was any of it hidden. Likely he knew almost everything about me just because he was so involved in the town.

  “You’re an only child, right?”

  Reluctantly, I nodded, even though he’d ignored my question and asked me a second one. Something in the gleam of his eyes had me curious.

  “Cousins?”

  I shook my head, still bewildered that I had his cousin situation so wrong. I'd even gone to school with one of his cousins, although the rest had moved to Jackson City much later, after he'd graduated. They didn’t come around here very often.

  Obviously.

  He nodded, as if affirming something to himself that I couldn’t hear. But what could the size of my family possibly have to do with anything in his life? And why did he seem so excited all of a sudden?

  “Are you a woman that can appreciate the toss of a dice?” he asked. That conspiratorial gleam that had made so many girls swoon in high school reappeared now, and my stomach clenched. Traitorous body, even I was still affected by his roguish grin. There was something boyish in the shape of his face, though his stature had nothing young about it.

  “W-what does that mean?”

  “Do you ever take a chance?”

  Not yet, I thought, and my mind slipped to Anthony Dunkin, and then back again. Jayson stared at me so intensely I couldn’t look away. My breath paused while I thought the question over.

  Wasn’t every day a toss of the dice?

  “I will,” I finally said.

  One side of his lips tilted in an adorable, quirky grin that stole all the rest of my breath. “Will you go on a date with me? And by date, I mean an adventure to my best friend’s wedding where we’ll be together for three days, sleep in the same hotel room, and pretend to be a couple when we’re really not.”

  6

  Jayson

  The utter silence that followed my question sent my heart into my throat.

  What had I just done?

  For what felt like an eternity, Dagny just stared at me. Her lack of words had nothing to do with her speech impediment this time. A layer of shock glazed her eyes and I felt the weight of it all the way to my bones.

  Bad idea.

  Really bad idea.

  My mouth opened to retract it and save my pride. To tell her that was a joke and I wanted to see what she’d say, but before I could muster the strength—or was it desperation?—to say anything, a word slipped out of her mouth on a squeak.

  “What?”

  Too late now. It had been acknowledged. Besides, I wasn’t the kind of guy that backed away. Once I started, I must finish. But where to start? How did I explain such a delicate and overwhelming situation? There were so many people I didn’t want to hurt here. With the right finesse, I could come out of this mostly intact.

  If she agreed.

  “I need some help.” The admission felt like a stone in my throat, but I couldn’t take it back either. Besides, maybe it needed to be said. The strange angles of what this upcoming weekend had become were tightening like a noose around my neck. I couldn’t deny it was true, anyway.

  To my shock, she softened. Her brow lowered slightly in a silent question. Taking it as permission, I continued.

  “One of my best friends, Grady, is getting married, and he asked me to be the best man. Of course I accepted.”

  My hair stood up on end as I ran a hand through it. Dagny didn’t say a word, but her eyes seemed to be processing it in the background, as if I could see her brain working through everything I said. So I kept going, because that silence needed to be filled.

  “But that was before I realized that a woman named Victoria would be there.” A pit fell into my stomach just thinking about her. “I . . . sort of dated her. We didn’t end well and she’s best friends with the bride. Anyway . . . I just . . . I don’t want to go to Grady’s wedding alone with her there. She's moved on to someone else and I don't want to show up by myself.”

  “W-was it that bad?”

  I snorted. “Yes, but it could have been worse. Besides, going to Grady’s wedding without a date?” My eyes rolled in the back of my head. “His mother will set me up with every bridesmaid or every other single woman at the wedding just to save me from Victoria, and that would be even worse.”

  Her eyes lit up with a smile. “P-p-probably.”

  Her affirmative response gave me pause. Did she know Grady? Most people in this area knew his family, at least. She must know his mother to agree with my statement so warmly. How old was Dagny anyway?

  I brushed that aside for later.

  “It would just be a lot easier if I took someone with me,” I concluded. “I won’t miss this just because of Victoria and because, well, they’re my brothers. We take care of each other. And that’s the other thing.”

  Her eyes widened. “Th-there’s more?”

  “Sort of.” I bit my bottom lip, t
hen sighed. This was a disaster, but I was too far into it to go back now. “My friends . . . they can be hard to impress, for lack of a better word.”

  “Oh?”

  Uncomfortable with just how to phrase this, I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. I had a feeling they’d love Dagny, but how to say that?

  “I . . . I think they have my best interests at heart, they can just . . . be sort of . . . intense when they meet girlfriends.”

  “Int-tense l-like a-a-asking a lot of questions?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “They've asked a lot of questions in the past.”

  “A-a-are they r-rude?”

  “No.”

  She made a noise in her throat, and a puzzled expression followed. I sighed and played my next card, which, fortunately, was the truth.

  “I know you’ll pass.” I lifted up a hand and let it fall again. “I know they would love you. It’s part of my selfish ask. You are the kind of person that would make things so much easier on me. Even though we don’t know each other very well yet, I think we could have fun. Even if we just lay out on the beach all the time.”

  Dagny blinked and let out a long, long breath. When it finished, she paused there in a sort of puzzled state for several moments. I shifted my weight. My mind raced with thoughts but none of them would settle. Had I phrased that right? Or was she going to laugh me off and call me insane? I wouldn't blame her. The sheer amount of thought behind her eyes gave me hope. Because this was insane, but it was also sincere. I needed help, as hard as it was to admit. Maybe that would count for something.

  “W-why m-m-me?” She gestured helplessly to herself, as if to say, why would you do this?

  “Because you’re so impressive. You’re real. I know you’ll fit right in.”

  She scoffed, and I sensed some weight behind that. Before I could ask, she said, “B-but I s-s-stutter.”

  I shrugged. “So?”

  “S-s-so won’t that emb-b-barrass you?”

  “No.”

  An expression twisted her face that I couldn’t read and didn’t even try to. If she wanted to go, she’d do it. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t. Regardless of what she said, I’d figure it out . . . but it would be a lot easier if she were at my side.

  “W-why fake it?” she asked next. “Y-you’re a catch. W-w-why don’t you h-have a g-girlfriend?”

  It was my turn to be shocked. The question was fair and one I should have anticipated, but more than likely I just tried to avoid. “Ah . . . because I don’t make time for a girlfriend, I guess.”

  “M-make it?”

  “Yeah. I could find time but I haven’t.” I shrugged again. “Don’t know why.”

  She nodded and licked her lips, seeming lost in thought. Just when I thought I’d lost her, when I was certain she’d smile in her kind, quiet way and thank me for the flattery but it wasn’t her thing, she asked one more question.

  The one thing I’d saved as the ace card.

  “W-w-where is it?”

  “Grady happens to be marrying the only daughter of the wealthiest man in Texas. They are having the wedding on an island somewhere in the Caribbean.”

  Her eyes widened. She paled.

  “The w-wealthiest m-man?”

  “Dunkin is his last name, I think.”

  “S-seriously?” She reached over to touch the wall, as if thrown off equilibrium and about to drop. I studied her for a moment. Did she have a thing against rich people? Was it her stutter or something?

  “Yeah,” I drawled. “I’ll pay for the flight, of course. You won’t have to pay anything. You’ll get a free trip to a beautiful Caribbean island, but you’ll be there with me as the only person that you know. Grady and Helene have mostly invited close family. The whole wedding guest list is something like a hundred people.”

  She’d gone oddly still for several seconds, then slowly sat down, her expression pale. Her lips wordlessly formed a question, but no sound came out. The hair on the back of my neck stood up in alarm. Something wasn’t right.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She waved me off when I took a step toward her, then stopped. Her lips pressed together until they blanched.

  “Dagny?”

  “F-f-f-fine,” she whispered. “J-j-just . . .”

  She trailed away. Her unseeing gaze stared right at her phone, which lay on the ground in front of her, as if it were about to swallow her.

  “Are you sure? Can I get you something?”

  She shook her head, neck taut. “N-n-no. Thank you. C-c-can I think about it?”

  “Of course.”

  I stepped away to give her space and the scrape of wood against the back of my thigh reminded me why I was there. The pallets. This whole weird night was only supposed to be me dropping a few pallets off at her place, not leaving my messy problems onto her lap to help me solve.

  “Let me get the rest of your pallets,” I said, and she relaxed.

  Space, I realized. She just needed some space. Without looking back, I headed back down the spiral staircase, my thoughts a whir. Just to give her the time she needed, I didn’t hurry. When I returned, she stood at her sink near a half empty glass of water. Both thumbs busily typed away on her phone. Although dying to know who she texted, and what the odd reaction was about, I forced myself to turn around and leave, again.

  When I brought the last pallet up the stairs, Dagny turned to face me again. Whoever she spoke to had clearly helped, because she had her head tilted up and an expression of determination now. Any shock or hesitancy had been wiped away.

  “You good?” I asked, for lack of anything else to say.

  Dagny nodded and a small smile made its way through. “Yeah, th-thanks. I-I-I’ll go.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded again.

  Until the relief flooded through me, I hadn’t realized just how much I’d been hoping for her to bail me out of a situation that became progressively worse with every passing day. Not only that, but I knew the guys would love her.

  “I . . . I’m n-n-nervous that your f-friends will . . . w-w-well, it’ll be fine.” She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth with a sideways shrug, as if to say, what can I do? I resisted the urge to put a hand on her shoulder.

  “They’ll be your new best friends,” I said.

  To that, she had no reply. Instead, she held up her hands, which were clasped with each pointer finger pressed together and lifted as one.

  “I-I have three c-conditions. F-first, I-I have s-something I need to d-do while I’m there a-a-and I don’t want to a-answer any questions about it. Y-you have to l-let me go and d-do it.”

  I frowned. “Will you be safe?”

  She nodded.

  Although I didn’t know why I hesitated, I did. Something in her expression gave me pause. After years working in law enforcement, I’d learned that my gut knew more than I did and I listened to it all the time. Tonight, it told me something was up. But there was no getting to the bottom of it tonight. The ferocity in her expression wouldn’t go away soon. As a dealbreaker, it was an easy request to grant.

  Still, I didn’t like it.

  “Okay,” I said.

  She nodded and let out a long breath. “S-second: you can p-pay for my ticket b-but I won’t l-let you p-p-pay for everything else. I-I can pay for things too.”

  Shock almost rendered me speechless. She had to be kidding. She wanted to grant me the biggest most trusting favor in the world, then pay for herself? Oh, no. That’s not how the Hernandez family worked.

  “I appreciate that.” I shook my head. “But this one is all on me.” Before she could argue, I held up a hand. “Dealbreaker. You’re giving me a huge gift, so I get to pay your way.”

  Her nostrils flared, but she finally gave up with a roll of her eyes.

  “F-fine.”

  “The third condition?”

  Her gaze slammed right into mine. “N-no lies. I’ll g-go as your f-friend, but not as a f-f-fake girlfriend. It’s not ho
w I r-r-roll.”

  A hundred thoughts slammed into me all at once, then knotted into a tangle of emotions I shoved aside. Amongst it, however, was a sense of gentle chastisement I couldn’t help but feel to my bones. Without meaning to do it intentionally, Dagny had just put me in my place.

  Oh, yes.

  The boys were going to love her.

  “Deal,” I said.

  Dagny blinked, as if she’d expected resistance, and then nodded. I stepped back. “I’m buying the tickets as soon as I get home. I’ll text you the details. While we’re on the plane, we’ll lay out the information and decide . . . everything. We leave Thursday. Can you get the time off?”

  “Sh-should be fine.”

  I grabbed the doorknob behind me and said with all the sincerity possible in my body, “Thank you, Dagny. This is . . . it means a lot.”

  A fleeting expression passed through her gaze before she nodded, a hesitant smile on her face.

  Without another word, I turned and headed down the stairs to finish up the pallets.

  7

  Dagny

  Clouds littered the sky beneath the airplane where I sat, dotting a green earth with white puffs. In disbelief, I swallowed hard, then turned to stare at the back of the seat in front of me. For the first time in my life, I was in the sky.

  My first airplane ride.

  With Jayson Hernandez.

  To a tropical island.

  This couldn’t possibly be real.

  Behind me, I left a studio attic full of broken-down pallet wood that was supposed to earn me the money to do something just like this. Ever since I accidentally stumbled onto Mom's non-disclosure agreement with Anthony Dunkin and my whole world flipped upside down.

  Now, a wild opportunity had landed in my lap.