Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(9)

She’s bubbly and charming. I’m … not really.

Sunny Wilbanks had the blondest of blond hair to match her name, which was thanks to the salon downtown. She always looked put together. Laughter and good times followed her around, just like her dog Andy Two did. If you’re curious, Andy One was hit by the school bus a few years ago. Andy Two wasn’t even the same breed as Andy One, but Sunny liked the name. She was a huge Shawshank fan.

She didn’t work on Sundays, but she would pre-record segments to play when she was out.

“All right, Wynne-ers, it’s Sunday afternoon and the sun is shining. How about a feel good song from a few summers back? It certainly brings back a few memories for me. Now put on your boots and go cause a little trouble. It’s good for you.” The recording broadcasted over my radio as I drove through town.

The music filled the truck, and before I knew it, I was approaching the old Robinson house, or Vaughn Renfro’s house, I supposed.

I came to a stop on the shoulder of the road in front of the old home and killed my beast. Before I got out I sat there for a moment and thought about how nice it would be if he actually renovated the whole house. Most of the neglect was cosmetic, but it would be a tough project to tackle alone.

His vehicle sat in the driveway and the garage door was open, showing boxes and furniture piled inside.

All of the windows were open in the house and I heard the same song I was listening to filter through them.

I was a little nervous.

Wynne didn’t get many new people. Sure, people moved away, and sometimes they came back, but it was an entirely new thing to have a total outsider with no ties to our small town.

It was exciting.

I grabbed the bag of things I’d bought for him and started up the long, uneven sidewalk that led to the front porch. Each step I took, the swell of anxiety grew and that was a new feeling for me. It wasn’t exactly shyness, because I wasn’t particularly anxious around people. I just wanted him to like me.

We were neighbors after all. Besides, it was probably hard not knowing anyone in a new place, but what the hell did I know about any of that? I was a lifer.

I’d thought about him quite a bit the night before when I was having a beer in the back of my truck. I didn’t know what it was like to be the new girl, but I knew plenty about being a little on the lonely side.

If being alone was our only thing in common, then so be it.

I was curious about him, and why he’d chosen to move to Wynne.

On top of it all, what Diana had mouthed to me in the diner the night before hadn’t been at all wrong.

He was attractive—in a clean-cut kind of way—and refreshing. Most of the men around here were doing pretty damn good if they were wearing a shirt half the time. Maybe that’s why he was so alluring to me? Because he wasn’t like anyone I knew.

The door was open, but the screen door was closed and latched. I peeked in to find a completely empty room, save for a lamp in the corner, but I didn’t see him. I knocked my boot against the bottom of the door, since my hands were full, and waited to hear any movement.

Nothing.

I kicked my foot against it a little harder and called, “Hello, Vaughn?” Then waited again.

There was a nice breeze and the warm spring weather was welcome; it had been a long cold winter. I noticed there were tulips popping up by the stairs on the side of his front porch, which led to the other side of the house. The grass was getting greener, and soon the dogwood tree in the yard would be blooming.

“Hi,” I heard from outside as I saw him peek around the corner to see me standing at his front door.

He was less put together than he had been the night before. His sandy blond hair was a little messier on the top, and he had an older looking pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt on. He wore a pair of brown leather gloves and the sight of him made me forget what the hell I was even doing there.

“What’s all that?” he said with a friendly grin.

I looked at the bag and I lifted the milk in my hand, realizing I needed to say something but struggling to find the words.

“You … you like milk,” I stammered. Why is it as soon as you say the wrong thing, the right thing suddenly becomes so clear?

“I do.” He laughed and climbed the three stairs leading up to where I was. All three of them creaked, and then every board he stepped on followed suit.

“I was at the store, and since we’re neighbors now, I thought I’d bring you a few things you might need.”

He pulled off his left glove and stuck his right hand under his arm, pulling off the other and holding them there as he reached out for me to hand him the milk.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” His face didn’t seem as tense as it had the night before, and when he smiled his eyes did this thing where they glistened like the sun dancing on the lake.

Had I really just thought that?

I handed him the milk and shifted the bag of things to get a better grip.

“Come on in, we’ll put this in the kitchen.” He walked past and I trailed in, breathing in the scent of sweat and soap. “It’s still really empty in here. Sorry about that.”

“Oh, it’s fine, you just got into town. I saw you put a lot of stuff in the garage. Maybe you should think about bringing some stuff in,” I teased.

He opened the old refrigerator and set the milk on the top shelf. I placed the bag on the counter and handed him the meat and cheese. Vaughn looked at the food I was handing him, and judging by his expression, you’d think I brought him a damn steak and crème br?leé.