I unlock and open the door to the automotive shop and head behind the desk to boot up the computer, not flipping the closed sign to open.
“Closed on a Friday?” His voice sends an involuntary shiver down my spine that I’m unable to hide from his penetrating stare.
“It’s. . .uh. . .most of the town is closed today,” I whisper as I send a message to Sam that we need a tow on US-50.
“Why?”
Ignoring his question, I look up from the computer to find his arms resting on the countertop as he leans over the chipped laminate. I can’t pull my gaze away from the muscles and veins protruding beneath the skin of his forearms as they bear his weight.
“Larsen,” he calls out, bringing my attention to him. “Why is the town shut down today?”
Replying in a tone that even surprises myself I explain, “We don’t really discuss business with outsiders. Now, what kind of car is it so that I can log it in the system?”
“’74 Porsche 911 Targa in steel blue. And I’m no longer an outsider since I’m staying a few days. So tell me, why?”
“You’re awfully nosey, you know that?”
Instead of spewing a comeback, he glares at me. His eyes narrow as his intimidating stance and stare seep under my skin, leaving me squirming in place.
“Fine! It’s the fifth anniversary of Susan’s death. She was Jeff’s wife and loved by the town. We’re having a memorial get-together this afternoon in her honor.”
His eyes widen with each punctuated word as if he never expected this to be the reason the entire town would call it quits on a Friday during the summer. I’m almost pleased that I was able to put the shocked look on his face.
“Can I come? Since it seems I’ll be here for a while.”
“I’m sure the ladies would love that,” I tell him with my eyes trained back onto the computer.
“I have a question. Do you honestly have no idea who I am?”
Confused I look at him again, examine him more closely, but try as I might I can’t pull my gaze away from his eyes. There is something about them that is so familiar, so intimate. “Not that I can recall. Sorry.”
“Damn,” he mutters as he looks down at his hands briefly, flexing his fingers against the counter before looking back at up me. “Do you watch any movies or television?” he asks with a pinched expression on his face, his brows and lips drawn tight.
“Not since I was fifteen,” I explain, not delving into the details. “Haven’t really had the time since I started helping Uncle Jeff.”
“Did you ever watch a show growing up called Double the Family?”
I can feel myself light up from the inside. My father and I loved watching that show together. I had the biggest crush on the middle son. “Oh my gosh. He’s you! I mean, you’re him. You’re Taylor Walker.”
Sheepishly he grins and shakes his head, the tips of his hair brushing against his eyelashes. “Devyn Dane, actually.”
Trying to school my expression, I quickly remember all of the turmoil that filtered through the entertainment channels about Devyn when I was younger, but at fifteen, I had more important things to worry about. “Wow, I thought you had died.” I slap my hand across my mouth as the words rush out before I can stop them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay. Most of the world thought I died too.”
“What are you doing here? I mean, specifically here in Shady Pines?”
His body grows rigid at my inquisition as he shuts down and it’s as if invisible shades pull down across his eyes sheltering me from exploring further. No longer are they as expressive as before.
“Where can I stay? Is there a hotel or something?”
His voice is clipped, strained. It’s a deep contrast to the welcoming tone from earlier.
“I’m not sure. We can head back to the diner and ask Stacy if she has any rooms left at the Bed and Breakfast. No hotels in town. Sorry.”
“Well, I’d like to get settled and maybe take a shower before this memorial today.”
I feel expertly dismissed the way he casually changes the subject, something I’m all too familiar with.