Mercer pipes up, “She liked the idea of the moolah that came with it.”
“But then she got here and wanted to make all of these changes to the way we do things. She and my mom didn’t get along. She hated it here, and made it obvious from the get-go. She complained constantly about living in a small town, how ugly the desert is, down to the small selection of vegetables at our grocery store. Our kale isinferiorto California kale, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Mercer imitates the whining from her position under the faucet and the acoustics of the sink make it extra grating. “Oh, and she refused to call him Joe. Only Joseph.” She finishes with a gag sound that makes us all laugh.
“For months he stuck with her, though. It was like he was brainwashed. And one day she was gone. No warning. She moved back to her parents’ and Joe was broken. It was awful. He stopped dating. Every now and then he’ll go out with someone if they ask, but it never lasts. He never asks anyone out. He’s alone. And he’s not happy.”
He seems pretty happy to me, but maybe my Happiness Radar is broken after years of faking it for social media. I tell them as much and they both cackle.
Mercer smiles at me in the mirror. “Girl, hehasbeen happy for—how many days have you been here?”
I count the days backward in my head. “Six?”Has it only been that long?
“Joe has been happy forsixdays,” she says with a knowing look and a long, dramatic pull from her soda to emphasize her point.
Sunny puts a hand on my shoulder. “And I’d like to keep him that way. Plus, I like you. I’d like to keep you. Let’s get you dressed.”
Chapter 8
Ican’t believe I’m late for my date with Joe.
I’m cursing myself as I fly around every turn in The Hulk. After our facials, we grabbed Mexican food for lunch and stopped for huge convenience store fountain sodas (this was Mercer’s idea). Then we went back to their townhouse so Sunny and Mercer could curl my red hair within an inch of its life and apply the perfect amount of makeup to my face to keep me looking “natural” but also covering up my fresh crop of freckles. That had been my idea. Sunny complained, claiming that I should “let those cuties out to play,” but I had her coat me in light layers of foundation and highlighter anyway. Old habits.
I tried on all of the dresses, but when I put on the pink dress it was like stars aligned. The cut was flattering without being overly va-va-voom, and I felt pretty and comfortable in it. And after hours talking, laughing, and trying on Sunny’s clothes I realized I was late and darted out the door.
Now I’m skidding to a stop in front of Joe’s house, a cloud of dust blowing over The Hulk as I yank the parking brake. I hop out of the van, my tousled waves blowing around my face in the breeze. I take a deep breath, smooth the dress down with my hands, and start for the door. I can’t tell if it’s the 32 ounces of cherry Coke or the nervesthat are making my heart race, but I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.
Then Joe walks around the corner, flipping his keys in his hand, and my pounding heart lurches to a stop. He is killing me with his perfectly stubbled five o'clock shadow, and thick muscles barely hidden by the button down shirt that he has rolled up to his elbows.What is he doing in this tiny town when he could be starring in a superhero movie?Not that I am sad about that. It means, at the moment, I have him all to my selfish, chiseled-jaw-loving self.
All six-foot-something of him stops abruptly when he spots me. His eyes rake over me and I feel the tiniest bit self-conscious in this dress. I fidget under his dark gaze.Am I overdressed? What if he wanted to go hiking or something?
“You look…” His voice is just a rumble, but his eyes are bright, “You are beautiful.”
“Thanks. You clean up pretty good, yourself, Obbs.” I feel myself blushing, but hereallydoes. He is the kind of handsome that almost hurts. He is always rugged, but tonight he is also polished. His hair is damp from a recent shower and I catch a fresh dose of that clean mountain scent.
We walk side by side to his Bronco, where he pulls on the passenger door and holds it open for me, brushing the skin at my elbow as he guides me inside. He shuts the door and jogs around to his side. I smooth down my borrowed dress, my heart fluttering. I thank my lucky stars that Joe had replaced the top on the Bronco at some point—not only for the sake of my hair, which is vain, but it’s the truth. Any girl who says otherwise on a first date with the most attractive man alive is a liar. But also because with the top on it is like being in an immersion chamber of Joe’s perfect, manly scent. I wait for him to crank the engine to life so I can take a deep breath through my nose.
I can die happy.
“Whereare we headed?”
“I’d like to surprise you.”
“I don’t live here, remember? Everything is a surprise.” We both chuckle. “I was a little worried that I’m overdressed. Or underdressed.”
I feel his eyes on me before his gaze catches mine briefly. Then his attention is back on the road. “You look perfect.”
I feel myself blush. “Thanks. So… what are we doing?”
“You’re an impatient little thing,” he says with his crooked grin.
Teasing like that from Miles would’ve made my hackles go up, but from Joe it doesn’t seem belittling, maybe because underneath the teasing I sense Joe’s kindness. There’s no mean-spiritedness in him at all. Well, unless you count his knocking on my windows at the crack of dawn. But dang him and that grin. He could get away with murder using only that as his defense. One smile at the judge and jury: Case dismissed.
“Fine. I can wait. I am the model of patience.” I make a show of relaxing into my seat and throwing on my social media smile. I happen to know it’s extra dazzling because of the whitening strips I use from one of our brand partners. How refreshing to smile without offering a discount code or peddling whitening strips! I feel my smile grow wider.
We spend the rest of the drive making small talk about the town, and my time with Sunny and Mercer. I tell him about their makeover and our afternoon together. His eyebrows shoot up at the mention of a makeover.
“Uh oh. What did they do?” He sounds both nervous and morbidly curious as he pulls onto the shoulder of the dirt road we’ve been driving. The trip was short—maybe thirty minutes, tops—but now we’re on a small mountain covered in pine trees. The air is cool and fresh and I can hear a stream running somewhere nearby.
