doesn’t have a lot of money. So we usually just hang out at the lake or at somebody’s house.”
“Doesn’t have a lot of money?”
Was that a smirk on his face? It definitely looked like a smirk. So I rushed to qualify my statement, defensive about making Drew look bad in front of Beastly Will Moneybags, who had probably never had do work for anything in his life.
“But he works hard at one of the fast-food places in town, Burger Barn. It’s new. For the longest time we didn’t have anything, you know, being out in the middle of the woods like we are. You’d have to drive half an hour into Russville if you wanted to buy anything other than farmer’s market produce. Now they have a supermarket and two hamburger places and an ice cream place.”
I thought about that last bit for a moment. “Mmmm, ice cream.”
“Is it that good?” Will’s forehead wrinkled as he watched my blissful expression.
“Ice cream? You’ve never had ice cream?” My voice shot up in disbelief. “I didn’t think it was that new of an invention.”
“It’s not. But you said yourself the town only recently got an ice cream shop.”
I shook my head. Apparently money wasn’t everything. “Ice cream is the best thing you’ll ever taste in your life. It’s sweet and creamy and delicious . . .”
We had steadily worked out way down the rows from opposite ends and now we were meeting in the middle. His hip bumped against mine as he reached up to pull another book off the shelf. I scooted away. I couldn’t tell if he noticed or not. His eyelashes flickered a little, but he was just looking at the book.
“Is there anything else you miss?” Will asked.
“My stepmother.”
“Really? I thought—”
“That I hated her because of my father’s betrayal?”
He shrugged.
“Don’t get me wrong—what my dad did was horrible. Horrible. I don’t even want to talk about it. But my stepmother . . . you’d have to know her. She’s one of the nicest people you’d ever meet. Her smile lights up the whole room.” I imagined her, red hair strewn across her pillow like seaweed floating on a wave, her skin paper-thin and so fragile to the touch. The purple bruises that formed so easily on her these days. Her gray-green eyes, shut against the pain of her treatments. “And she was really sick, Will. Really, really sick.”
“That doesn’t make what he did right.”
“I know.” I grabbed another book and thumbed through it. My throat squeezed, making talking hard. “It hurts to think about how . . .” No need to finish that statement. Will didn’t want to hear my sob stories.
I expected him to change the subject or let my words dangle awkwardly, but to my surprise he touched my shoulder. “I’m really sorry that it happened to you.”
“Thanks.” I looked from his hand to his face. My eyes traced the scar.
“How’d you get that?” I asked softly, before I lost my nerve. Since we were confessing all kinds of secrets today …
Will’s eyes clouded over. “Marian,” he said, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
I knew enough to drop it. We resumed our work, avoiding each other’s eyes.
“Any luck?” He asked, after a short silence.
“Nothing. You know, this would be a lot easier if these books were sorted into some kind of order. I blame you, Will. It’s your library.”
“Duly noted. The lady wishes I was more organized in the past. Anything else you want to add? A dislike for my hair color, my height, my nose?”
“Being organized is a lot more controllable than a physical attribute—hey!” I squealed when he deliberately bumped me out of the way so he could get another book. I fell backwards onto the carpet in a fit of giggles. Will swung around, laughing.
A retort jumped into my head, but when our gazes caught I couldn’t speak. The laughter in his eyes faded into an intensity. My brain stumbled.
Seriously, this was not good. I did. Not. Have. A. thing. For. Will.
Did I?
Will reached down to
“Doesn’t have a lot of money?”
Was that a smirk on his face? It definitely looked like a smirk. So I rushed to qualify my statement, defensive about making Drew look bad in front of Beastly Will Moneybags, who had probably never had do work for anything in his life.
“But he works hard at one of the fast-food places in town, Burger Barn. It’s new. For the longest time we didn’t have anything, you know, being out in the middle of the woods like we are. You’d have to drive half an hour into Russville if you wanted to buy anything other than farmer’s market produce. Now they have a supermarket and two hamburger places and an ice cream place.”
I thought about that last bit for a moment. “Mmmm, ice cream.”
“Is it that good?” Will’s forehead wrinkled as he watched my blissful expression.
“Ice cream? You’ve never had ice cream?” My voice shot up in disbelief. “I didn’t think it was that new of an invention.”
“It’s not. But you said yourself the town only recently got an ice cream shop.”
I shook my head. Apparently money wasn’t everything. “Ice cream is the best thing you’ll ever taste in your life. It’s sweet and creamy and delicious . . .”
We had steadily worked out way down the rows from opposite ends and now we were meeting in the middle. His hip bumped against mine as he reached up to pull another book off the shelf. I scooted away. I couldn’t tell if he noticed or not. His eyelashes flickered a little, but he was just looking at the book.
“Is there anything else you miss?” Will asked.
“My stepmother.”
“Really? I thought—”
“That I hated her because of my father’s betrayal?”
He shrugged.
“Don’t get me wrong—what my dad did was horrible. Horrible. I don’t even want to talk about it. But my stepmother . . . you’d have to know her. She’s one of the nicest people you’d ever meet. Her smile lights up the whole room.” I imagined her, red hair strewn across her pillow like seaweed floating on a wave, her skin paper-thin and so fragile to the touch. The purple bruises that formed so easily on her these days. Her gray-green eyes, shut against the pain of her treatments. “And she was really sick, Will. Really, really sick.”
“That doesn’t make what he did right.”
“I know.” I grabbed another book and thumbed through it. My throat squeezed, making talking hard. “It hurts to think about how . . .” No need to finish that statement. Will didn’t want to hear my sob stories.
I expected him to change the subject or let my words dangle awkwardly, but to my surprise he touched my shoulder. “I’m really sorry that it happened to you.”
“Thanks.” I looked from his hand to his face. My eyes traced the scar.
“How’d you get that?” I asked softly, before I lost my nerve. Since we were confessing all kinds of secrets today …
Will’s eyes clouded over. “Marian,” he said, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
I knew enough to drop it. We resumed our work, avoiding each other’s eyes.
“Any luck?” He asked, after a short silence.
“Nothing. You know, this would be a lot easier if these books were sorted into some kind of order. I blame you, Will. It’s your library.”
“Duly noted. The lady wishes I was more organized in the past. Anything else you want to add? A dislike for my hair color, my height, my nose?”
“Being organized is a lot more controllable than a physical attribute—hey!” I squealed when he deliberately bumped me out of the way so he could get another book. I fell backwards onto the carpet in a fit of giggles. Will swung around, laughing.
A retort jumped into my head, but when our gazes caught I couldn’t speak. The laughter in his eyes faded into an intensity. My brain stumbled.
Seriously, this was not good. I did. Not. Have. A. thing. For. Will.
Did I?
Will reached down to
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