The Closer You Come (The Original Heartbreakers, #1)(68)

His mind replayed two conversations that had taken place over the weekend, both of which had scared the hell out of him.

He’d spent some time in town...not looking for Brook Lynn. He’d once again felt as if he were being watched, but when he’d found no evidence of a stalker, he’d known he had to get over these little paranoias if he had any hope of staying sane. He’d soon come across an elderly woman doing her best to change a flat tire. Despite the summer heat, she wore a sweater. But his favorite thing about her? She had quintessential old-lady hair, white curls forming a ball of fluff around her face.

He was ashamed to admit he’d held an internal debate about whether or not to help her. He hadn’t wanted any of the locals thinking about him, much less talking about him, or inevitably looking him up, but in the end he hadn’t been able to leave the woman on her own. Especially since she hadn’t been working the scissor jack properly.

He’d parked in front of her, at the side of the road, and walked over.

She’d stiffened, backed a few steps away and held out her hands to stop him. “You think you’re the first stranger to approach me today? Think again. I’ve got Mace, young man, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“I’m not here to hurt you, ma’am.” He’d slowed his approach and put his own hands up, all innocence. “Just wanted to help.”

“That’s what the last guy said and he had serial killer written all over him.”

“I didn’t know serial killers were so obvious nowadays.”

She’d lifted her chin and hmphed. “You just go on now. I’ll have this tire changed on my own in another hour or two.”

“I’m Jase Hollister, friends with Lincoln West and Beck Ockley,” he’d said, and her entire demeanor had changed from suspicious to fawning in less than a heartbeat.

“I’ve met West and Beck. Beautiful boys. I’m Peggy, the event planner for the Silver Foxes. You ever heard of us?”

“Uh, no, can’t say that I have.”

“Well, we are hot mommas still going strong. We host mixers at the assisted-living center. You should come.” She’d patted his shoulder. “Look what a big strapping lad you are. And so helpful, too, stopping to take care of my needs.” A calculated gleam had entered her eyes. “Are you married, Jase?”

He’d swallowed a groan, knowing where she was about to delve. “No, and I—”

“Wonderful,” she’d said, speaking over him. “My granddaughter is single, too.”

Yup. There.

“I know you’d love her. She’s a nurse at that assisted-living center I mentioned, and let me tell you, you will never meet a girl with a better personality.”

“That’s, uh, great,” he’d replied, while thinking: I should have driven on. “But I’m kind of...seeing someone.”

As in...dating?

No, some part of him screamed. No!

“Who?” she’d asked, as if she’d had every right to know.

He’d ignored her, and she’d spent the next twenty minutes regaling him with reasons why city girls were inferior to Strawberry Valley girls, as well as stories about her granddaughter, while he’d taken care of the tire, a captive audience. By some miracle, he’d gotten away without having to relinquish his phone number.

For his trouble, Peggy had given him a Werther’s Original. Seriously.

Afterward, Jase had helped Virgil Porter carry his groceries to his beater of a truck.

“Heard you’re dating Peggy Newcomb’s granddaughter,” Virgil had said as he settled behind the wheel. “You sure that’s wise, considering you’re pinin’ for our Brook Lynn?”

He’d had to swallow a mouthful of curses.

But...was he pining? What, exactly, did he want from Brook Lynn?

Irritated with himself now, Jase worked outside for hours, even skipping lunch to avoid being around the temptation of her. Of course, after a while, she brought food to him.

She’s concerned for me. Caring for me.

Ruining me.

Stopping himself from grabbing hold of her and pulling her body against his might have been the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

When dusk finally descended, she peeked her head out the window and called, “Jase. I need you.”

Just like that, he was hard. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” When she disappeared back inside the house, he stored his tools and entered the kitchen. She bustled around between the stove and the counter, mixing ingredients.

“You need something?” he asked. Need me?

“Yeah. Answers. Did you tell Kenna you’d help me with my fun list?”

More like demanded. “Yes,” he reluctantly admitted.

“Well, then, you need to help me. I’m ready to check off another item.”

Dance for me. He cleared his throat. “How about we hustle West and Beck during a poker game tonight?”

She glanced at him, bit her lip nervously—and it was sexy as hell. “Shouldn’t I learn how to play first?”

“You’ve never played?”

Wiping her hands on a towel, she said, “Would you be able to teach me? It isn’t that hard, is it? It looks so easy and fun on TV, so I’m absolutely certain I can learn, like, superfast.”