Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(46)

Still, if this thing was going to work out, I didn’t want to smother her, or have her feel obligated to keep me entertained.

“Hey, do you golf?” I asked as he started back down the sidewalk.

He turned around, stopping best he could, while Smokie pulled him back the way they came. “I’m not that good, but I like to play.”

“I was thinking about going to the driving range sometime this week if the weather is good. Hit a few, drink a few beers.”

“Now you’re talking. I’m great at drinking beers. If my truck is home, stop by on your way out. First bucket is on me.”

Finally, a possible friend. Things were looking up.

After a bowl of cereal and a workout in my new gym, which was also known as my garage, I couldn’t hold out any longer and called her.

“Good morning,” she sang over the line.

“Good morning. How’s your dad feeling today?”

“Better than he deserves. Hey, do you like fried fish?”

“I grew up Catholic. It was almost a requirement, but I haven’t had it in a while.”

“Well, I don’t mean to brag, but mine is the shit. I think we’ll fry some later if you can catch any.” She was teasing and challenging me; I could hear it in her playful voice.

This would be where she had me at a disadvantage. I’d never been as an adult, unless you called deep-sea fishing where the pole is anchored to the boat and there’s a guide who does everything for you, the same thing.

“I’m going to warn you. I’m not a fisherman. That’s a lot of pressure, you know. If I can’t catch our dinner we’ll go hungry?” I was playing along, but everything I’d said was true.

She loved fishing and I was going to look like an ass.

“We’ll see. Ever hear of beginner’s luck? That’s a real thing, you know. Anyway, I’m heading out to the cabin, so whenever you get around, that’s where I’ll be.”

“Need me to bring anything?”

“Not that I can think of, but, Vaughn?”

“Yeah?”

“Hurry the f*ck up. Okay?” I loved how she said exactly what she wanted, the precise way she wanted to.

I needed to get a quick shower and run by the store, but I didn’t want to make her wait. I knew how excited she was about getting out on the water for the first time this year.

“I’ll hurry.”

“Good.”

Like I said I would, I rushed through a shower, foregoing a good shave that I probably could have used, and I threw on a T-shirt, some cargo shorts, my old tennis shoes, and a ball cap. I grabbed my sunglasses and my wallet, wondering if I should throw some other things in a bag, on the off chance that I’d be staying, but then decided that was a little too presumptuous.

I walked into the small grocery store and headed straight for the aisle where I knew I’d find what I wanted.

I was a grown ass man.

I could buy condoms.

But son of a bitch, the whole town was there. The. Whole. Damn. Town. The parking lot was fuller than I’d ever noticed before. All twelve spots were used.

“Morning, Vaughn. You’re up and at it early,” said Dr. Carver as I walked in. He was checking out, which I was thankful for, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

“Good morning. Just picking up a few things. See you Monday,” I said quickly with a wave as I passed him and headed to the far end of the store to scope out the aisle three situation.

I passed a patient I’d seen the past week and gave her a friendly smile that she returned without any hesitation.

A few weeks ago, none of the faces registered, but now, as I was getting more familiar with the people of the small town, everyone seemed like someone I knew. Or someone I at least recognized from somewhere.

I rounded the back aisle and began walking toward the one I needed to hit up before I made my getaway.

Like my prayer had been answered, it was empty. I marched to the section where I’d seen the condoms before and decided I wasn’t going to hang out that long. I’d find the ones I wanted and be out of there in no time.

“Hey there, Astro. How’s the Caddy running for ya?” I heard the gruff voice from behind me.

Fuck. Hannah’s dad.

I spun around to face him, hoping to block the contents of the shelf I’d been hastily browsing.

“Hi, Mr. O’Fallon. It’s good. Thanks.”

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

I coughed, being taken by surprise with his question and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Athlete’s foot cream.”

“Oh, ya got a little crook foot, huh?”

He walked around me and pulled off the box of lotion that was positioned right under the box of prophylactics I desperately wanted to buy. Even if I wasn’t going to use them that day, I didn’t want to be unprepared again.

“Here you go. I used a mess of this a while back and it cleared right up. You don’t want to mess with that stuff. Gets nasty. Smelly.”

“Right,” I agreed, taking the box from him.

“Busted knuckles? You one of those cage fighters? What’s your ring name? Captain Cavity?“ He gave a few pretend punches to the air.

“No, sir,” I answered, looking at the injury from the bar. I didn’t want him to get any ideas that I’d hurt his daughter, which was exactly where my mind would go if I were him, knowing I’d been out with her last night. “I kind of took a swing at a guy in the bar who was being rude to your daughter.”