Crazy (The Gibson Boys 4)
Page 36
He throws something in his hand my way. It whizzes by my head and sails across the street.
Chuckling, I climb in the cab as he flips me off. I give him a little wave before throwing a little gravel with my tires before hitting the road.
Thirteen
Dylan
“I’m really excited to get started.” I smile at Joanie Phillips, my new boss at Linton Bank and Trust. “I’ll see you soon.”
Joanie shakes my hand. “We are so excited to have you on board. I think you’re going to be an excellent fit here.”
“Me too.”
I turn to leave the bank when Joanie calls me back.
“Oh, Dylan. There’s one more thing.” She pulls her eyeglasses to the bridge of her nose and peers at a piece of paper in her hand. “When you were hired, you didn’t have your address yet. Do you happen to have that?”
“I do. Well,” I say, “I have a temporary one. The rental I was going to use didn’t pan out, but I’m staying with a friend.”
Peck’s face rushes through my mind, and I have to fight to keep my smile professional and not giddy. I take the pen she offers and scribble down Peck’s address.
“You know,” Joanie says. “I know where there’s a rental. A friend of my daughter’s is moving to Merom, and their house is a rental. Her husband got a promotion.”
“That’s nice.”
“They’re such good people. I’m happy things are turning around for them. Anyway,” she says, bringing herself back on topic. “I can get you the landlord’s information if you’re interested.”
“Oh, um, yeah. Absolutely. That would be great.”
She winks. “Perfect. I’ll see you next week. And if I get that info beforehand, I’ll call.”
“Thanks again.”
I slip outside. My steps should be much lighter after the meeting with Joanie. Not only did it go swimmingly, but she also offered me a dollar an hour more if I would get my notary certification, which I have no problem doing. Even though I struggle with budgeting myself, I’ve always loved working with money. I’ve worked in a bank my entire life. Joanie seems wonderful.
And she knows where there’s a house for me.
I press my lips together and make my way toward Navie’s car. The thought of leaving Peck’s house so soon should be exciting. I’ll be back to good, creating the new life I came here for. Except … it’s not exciting. Or good. Or welcome.
It’s annoying.
Listening to him get ready this morning, smelling his cologne in the house after he left, and seeing his coffee cup in the sink and toast crumbs on the counter should be annoying too, but it’s not. There’s something very satisfying about it. And honestly, I want more of that. It’s not that I can’t live alone because I can, and I’ve always kind of loved it. But this feels … different.
Maybe the house won’t work out. I won’t be that disappointed.
“Hey,” I say as I climb into Navie’s car. “Thanks for waiting.”
“How’d it go?”
“Oh, great. Um, she offered me a little raise already. Can’t beat that.”
“Look at you go,” Navie says. She pulls the car out onto the street. “So we got your groceries. We met the lady at the bank. Do you need to do anything else before I take you home?”
She pilots the car around a pothole and then takes a right-hand turn. Her hair is freshly cut with new pink streaks from root to tip.
“You didn’t have to come with me,” I tell her. “I could’ve done this alone.”
“I know. But I haven’t seen much of you since you left me for Peck.” She grins. “But I can’t say I blame you for that.”
“I didn’t leave you for him. I didn’t have a place to put my stuff, and you don’t want to walk around me on your couch forever.”
She shrugs as if she wouldn’t mind. Truth be told, she probably wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean it would’ve been the right choice.
“So … how are things going with you and Mr. Ward?” she asks.
The lines etched into his skin last night reappear as if they were waiting on an invitation. I squirm in my seat.
“Fine. Things are fine,” I say.
She snickers. “I bet they are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ve seen the man before. Shirtless, even. I know him, Dyl. What I don’t know,” she says, turning onto the long road that leads to Peck’s house, “is how you refrain from jumping his bones.”
I laugh at her crude language. “It’s not that hard to control myself.”
“You’re a better woman than me.”
“Then why didn’t you hook up with him?” I ask.
She considers this. “Well, I would’ve. Trust me. But somehow our relationship became very brother and sister, and it just never had the opportunity to become sexual in nature.” She looks at me smugly out of the corner of her eye. “But if you venture into that arena, I want every single delicious detail.”