Twist Into Me Read online

  I chuckled as I moved behind the counter, needing to tally up the orders for the day and close down the laptop. “No? Mr. Smiles-A-Lot?”

  “Would you have preferred it if I had ignored her completely? Here in your store? Make her associate jerks with your business?”

  Eh. He had me there. “Yeah, yeah. So what’s up?”

  I was busy typing in commands, so I didn’t look up when he asked, “So what are you doing tonight?”

  I shrugged. “Eating. Sleeping. Laundry.”

  “How about you scratch laundry off your list and do those other things with me?”

  It took me a moment to process what he suggested, and when I did, my mouth dropped wide as I looked up to a completely sinful smile. “So you are sort of listening when you bury your head in that thing. Good to know.”

  I laughed it off, shaking my head at him. “Seriously. What do you want?”

  “Well, I’m down for both the items on your list, but I’ll settle for taking you around to show you the town.”

  I shut the laptop and leaned over the counter, clasping my hands together, perching my chin on them. I figured I’d better pay close attention to the words coming out of his mouth before I agreed to something I completely missed that hung between the lines.

  “That’s awfully sweet of you, but I’ve seen this town plenty of times.”

  “A lot has changed in eight years,” he argued.

  “Small town like this? I highly doubt that.”

  “We’re not that small. Ten-thousand strong.”

  I wasn’t impressed by his argument, but I did grow a rather large smile so he understood it was lost on me.

  “Are you saying no? After I came all this way?” He said it in a way he hoped would guilt me into accepting his proposal.

  “Exactly how far did you have to come?” I challenged, straightening my stance, letting my forearms fall to the table.

  He bit a small part of his lower lip, studying me. When he smirked, I knew I had him.

  “Two-point-two miles,” he admitted.

  I threw my right hand over my heart, dramatically answering, “Oh, you poor thing. Tell me, did you have to walk that awful distance as a child buried in four feet of snow?”

  “No…” he replied, playing along and dragging the word out for a few seconds.

  “And did you walk those long two miles here today?”

  “Two-point-two,” he corrected.

  I smiled, simply awaiting the answer to my question.

  “No,” he finally admitted. With an even bigger smile, he leaned over the counter like me, making the distance between our heads relatively short. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fighting the temptation of homing in on those lips for a closer look. “But it would be incredibly rude to turn down the hospitality of a neighbor who has taken such a keen interest in welcoming you to Campbellsville.”

  Before I could even answer, Nana called out from the back room. “He’s got you there!”

  I whipped around and cried out, “Nana!” just as Brady broke out in chuckles.

  Thanks to Nana I got bullied into letting Brady take me out. Okay, bullied might’ve been a strong word. Secretly I was curious about his end game. Was he just being nice because I was sort of the new girl again, or because there was a legitimate reason behind all the smiles?

  I got some satisfaction out of making him wait for me to change and freshen up, but there was a downside to that too. One, he probably thought he was the reason I needed to freshen up, and two, it meant leaving him alone with Nana for the fifteen minutes it took me. Lord only knew what that woman could say.

  It was still hot out with no relief in sight, despite the sun going down in an hour, so I slipped on a pair of worn denim shorts and a heather grey baseball tee that had light blue sleeves and the words Gardeners Do It In The Dirt written across the chest. I figured if he was wearing a plain tee with jeans and Vans, there was nothing I needed to dress up for. I looped the long strap of my small bag over my chest diagonally, slipped on my flip-flops and headed down.

  I found them still in the workshop. Brady was watching Nana create an arrangement. By the amount of lilies out, I figured she was working on the one that teenage girl just ordered. “Wow. You’re already making that?”

  “Might as well, seeing as how you’re going out.”

  She hadn’t meant for it to come off sounding guilty, but that was the way I received it. That was when I noticed she was slouching instead of sitting perfectly straight like she normally did, and that she actually looked tired this evening.

  I pulled my bag off. “Why don’t you go ahead and go up for the night? I’ll finish this before we go.”

  “No,” she cried out insistently. “Don’t be silly. You two go have fun.”

  “No,” I said defiantly. “You said you were going to let me start making these. I’ll do this one tonight and tomorrow you can go over it with me before we send it out.”

  “I don’t mind waiting,” Brady cut in fast. “Really. We have all night.”

  I gently pulled the lily out of her hand before she could keep protesting. Seeing she was outnumbered, Nana gave in and put up her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” She stood to her feet, then leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you, Tessie.”

  “I still have my baked potato soup left over from lunch today. Why don’t you heat that up for dinner so you don’t have to cook anything?”

  She paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Well, that sounds wonderful. I’ll do that.” As she made her way across the room, she said, “Good night you two. Brady, it was lovely to see you again. You tell that brother of yours he’s due to come over again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I called out goodnight as she slipped past the door. We stood in silence, lightly gazing into one another’s eyes until we heard her close the door behind her at the top of the stairs. “Thank you for that,” I said, picking up where Nana left off with the arrangement. “This was the first time I’ve seen her actually look tired. She’s usually so energetic she’s running circles around me.”

  “It’s alright. I did kind of spring this on you.”

  Brady picked up one of the white lilies and twirled it between his fingers. Suddenly he was quiet, lost in his own world. Confused, I asked, “You okay?”

  He sighed, long and deep, his gaze never faltering from the white blur that twisted back and forth, hypnotizing him like a pendulum. “I’ve never liked these things. Hate them, in fact.” He said it so lifelessly it didn’t make sense.

  “Lilies? Why?”

  “Because they had a million of these things at my mother’s funeral.”

  My body came to a dead stop. His mom was dead? Why hadn’t Nana told me that was why she no longer had a part-time worker? She and Terri Anne McCoy were so close through the years.

  “White ones,” he continued, “just like this one. And those flowers that bloom going up the stem.”

  “Gladiolus?” I asked quietly.

  “Yeah. Those. They were white too. Everywhere I looked that day I saw nothing but white flowers. Worst day of my life.”

  And here I was using the same flower to make an arrangement for a woman who was so sick she could very well die. I slowly reached out. He snapped out of his trance when my hand cupped his, when I removed the now-mangled flower from his grasp. “I’m sorry about your mom. I didn’t know. How long ago did it happen?”

  “Almost four years… Cancer. It was just two years after I lost my father in a car wreck.”

  I had tried getting back to the project at hand, deciding where to best stick the next lily, but my hands fell straight to the table when he said that. “Jesus, Brady.” I abandoned the flowers and threw my bag over my body again. Then I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the stool. “Come on.”

  “What about your order?”

  “Fuck the flowers. I’ll do them in the morning.” I led him through the store and out the door, locking it behind us, refusin
g to abandon the hand that found comfort in gripping mine back.

  Giving what I hoped was a reassuring tone, I asked, “Okay, so where are we going? What the heck is new in Campbellsville?”

  He forced a smile, trying to lift his spirit. “Well, there’s…”

  Enough time went by I was tempted to start singing the jeopardy tune. “Nothing? You’ve got nothing?” I dropped his hand and crossed my arms, shifting all my weight to one hip. His smile was beginning to look more natural. “So this whole evening was a setup you couldn’t back up?”

  “Alright, there is one place that was built in the past few years I’m certain you haven’t seen yet. And given your chosen summer lifestyle,” he added, motioning toward the shop in a grand way, “this should be right up your alley.”

  I angled my eyes at him. “Uh-huh. Better be, buddy.” I let my shoulder knock into him as I set out on foot, leaving him behind.

  “Uh, Tessa?” he called out. Only the top half of my body turned to give him notice. He pointed the other direction. “Truck’s this way.”

  “I knew that,” I argued, dropping my arms in a duh fashion. “I was just testing you.”

  “On what? Sense of direction? I vaguely recall you getting spun around and lost in my basement as a kid, so I doubt you’d be the best judge.”

  He meant it all in good fun, but my mouth still opened wide. “I cannot believe you remember that! I was eight and had just turned ten straight minutes on the sit and spin!” I playfully slapped at him, which he skillfully dodged.

  “And apparently your aim hasn’t improved since you were eight either.”

  My lips mashed together as I moved to whack him again, but he reached out and snatched me, easily binding my wrist with one hand while his other opened the passenger door for me. He released me with the slightest of shoves. As I climbed in, he added, “Try not to get lost on the way to the seat.”

  “Ah!” I roared in protest, but he had already shut the door.

  The only reason I didn’t bother him as he climbed in and drove us off in his truck was because I had done what I had set out to achieve, which was to get his mind off of his late parents.

  A few minutes later the sky was turning bluer, kissed with streaks of pinks and oranges as the sun prepared to say its goodbye. Brady pulled his black Ford F250 into a gravel parking lot and pulled in beside the only other car there. I got out on my own, my attention on the large wooden arch that curved above the stone pathway that sneaked in between large slabs of ten foot stucco. Behind it, I could already see luscious green plants and flowering trees and vines.

  “Is this an arboretum?”

  Brady took my hand and led me inside. “Nope. Little better.”

  It was a Japanese Tea Garden. Our sidewalk suddenly became stone pavers laid out in an alternating design. Trees and shrubbery followed the paths and filled out everything between with various colors, flowers and fruits. A tall waterfall off to the far left plummeted down flat stones of rock, churning the large pond it fed, home to endless live plants and multi-colored spotted koi fish. A spectacular rock bridge traveled across the garden, flowing lazily up and down like a toddler’s rollercoaster ride. A large Japanese-styled pavilion perched above offered shade on a hot, sunny day, with three-sixty views of the entire garden.

  “This is beautiful.”

  “So then I did have something new to show you, huh?” he bragged.

  “Yeah,” I admitted reluctantly, “you did good.”

  We paused to lean over one of the arched wooden bridges to get a better view of the pond. The sun was close to setting, so light was minimal. The sign out front said the park closed an hour after sunset, and I was pretty sure it was because the only nightly light source was the occasional solar lantern along the path. But it was definitely a romantic spot this time of day, the entire garden lit up with the softest of orange glows.

  I was busy admiring the waterfall across the way, so Brady saw it before I did – a large grouping of white water lilies straight below us, dragonflies and baby frogs taking up residence. He shook his head, seeming on the verge of rolling his eyes over the unbelievable chance he’d find even more lilies tonight.

  “You just can’t seem to avoid the things, can you?”

  “Not since you came back into town, no.”

  There should’ve been some humor to that, but it had drained out of him for a second time tonight. I pulled him into motion, once again getting him away from the dreaded lilies. Two more curves in the path led to a giant box of sand that had large flat stones randomly placed throughout, with a plastic-tipped pole and flat broom secured under a tiny covered alcove. Above them were several posted images of symbols to draw in the sand. Things like peace, serenity and hope. Intrigued, I pulled the broom and passed it to him. Getting the pole for myself, I put on my best accent and commanded, “Farm boy, wipe clear my sand canvas.”

  “Did you really just farm boy me?”

  My answer was nothing but a toothy grin. Then I put on my pouty face and begged, “Please…”

  By the way his lips twisted and his eyes narrowed at me, I knew I had successfully commandeered his thoughts again. He kindly swept the scribbles off the sand so I could begin doodling my own. I tried my hand at drawing what was shown on the placard, but drawing was never my forte.

  “So tell me Brady…” I began, my sight still on the ground beneath me, “what do you intend to do with your life?”

  “You mean after college?”

  “Yeah. Are you going to stay around here or head for a bigger city?” I was failing at kicking out a mistake I made, so Brady swept it away.

  “Probably stay. Guess it depends on Owen. We’re probably going to start a business.”

  “Oh, yeah? That’s cool.” Kind enough not to tease, Brady was quiet as I abandoned the symbol and went the simpler route, drawing a large swirl. “What kind?”

  “Not quite sure. He’s really good at building furniture, woodworking. Learned it all from my dad. Me? I could never get into it. We’re thinking we’ll start small. Locally. Then slowly start incorporating other people to build his designs. Try to branch out from there. He’ll be the builder and I’ll deal with the business end.”

  I vaguely remembered Owen whittling away at pieces of wood when we were little. My last summer here he gave me a small fish that he attached to a key chain. Even had the scales cut in.

  Where was that anyway? I never would’ve thrown it away or left it in a position to be left behind somewhere. All the same, I couldn’t recall a time I ever saw it outside of Campbellsville. Damn…did I lose it?

  The thought kind of depressed me, and all of a sudden drawing in the sand didn’t seem too appealing anymore. I passed the pole over and let Brady have a go.

  “It’s too bad your shirt doesn’t say sand instead of dirt.” I automatically looked to my chest, where his eyes were lingering too. “Where did you get that thing anyway?”

  I tried to let the amusement add some spark to my lack of emotion. Slowly revving up the sass, I replied, “Welcome home present from Nana.”

  “No way she got you a shirt that suggests you spend your free time rolling around in the dirt.”

  My innocent smile stretched as far as it could go.

  “Seriously?” he asked. He shook his head and returned his attention to the sand. “I want to say your grandmother’s the coolest, but I’m also mildly disturbed by that.”

  I took the broom to his X-rated drawing. “Hey! I wasn’t done with that!” he cried, playfully reaching out to stop my sweeps.

  “Oh, yes you were.” I motioned to the young girl and her mother walking towards us, smoothing out the last of his picture.

  “Come on! All little kids know about sex these days.”

  “Talk about disturbing…” I replied, taking the broom back to its post. “Let’s not educate this particular girl, okay? Maybe we can save just one from growing up too fast.”

  Brady passed the pole off to the little girl, who
had run the rest of the way to get to the sand. He smiled and exchanged a wave with the mother before joining me on the bridge that would take us the long way back around.

  “Cock-blocker,” he teased under a mumble.

  Laughter fired out of me. I had doubts that term was ever meant to cover drawing censorship.

  We meandered through the path, discussing our collegiate experiences, the courses we were taking and the other noncommittal topics that allowed two people to talk without really talking. But dusk set in before too long, restricting our scenic view, so we slowly made our way out. His fingertips grazed mine, and before I could even begin to wonder if he’d take hold like we had so many times earlier in the night, he shifted out of reach.

  I suddenly felt very tired when I settled into the passenger seat.

  When we were closer to home and driving down Main Street, I stopped him before he could pull in near the front. “Could you go around back? Nana might’ve already set the alarm for the night.”

  “Yeah,” he replied quietly.

  I was curious about his sudden quietness, about whatever was plaguing his mind, but at the same time, I didn’t want to make him feel obligated to tell me either. So when he pulled around back, I popped my seatbelt and smiled at him. “Thank you. For the tour.”

  I had just opened the door, activating the cab lights when he said, “Did Sarah tell you about Britches?” I made no move to get out, seeing as how he’d been so sensitive to flowers tonight. I figured it was best to finish this conversation right where we were.

  “What the heck is Britches?”

  “This club we sometimes go to instead of the pub. I think we’re supposed to go next week.”

  “On Thursday?” I confirmed.

  He nodded his head. “A few of us are going. Matt, Sarah.” With yet another eye roll involving her name, he added, “Lis.” Did no one like this girl? She didn’t seem that bad the other night.

  “Isn’t Owen going then?”

  I found his devilish smile way too attractive. “You will never see the day when my brother goes into a club.”

  “So she’s going without him? That’s weird.”