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Vivian rushed out to the car to collect the things she’d need for the day ahead, keeping Gretta’s insecurities in mind as she went back to her room to ready herself. There was only one bathroom on the second floor, and it was just as nice and cozy as the rest of the house with its circa twenties subway tiled walls and black-and-white honeycombed floors. She was instantly in love with the old-world charm.
By the time she’d finished blowing her hair dry and slapping on a little foundation and blush, Vivian could hear the commotion downstairs of men traipsing in and out, laughter and conversation, and dishes clanking as if the house had come alive in her absence.
Used to parties and social gatherings, Vivian wasn’t exactly shy, but as she approached the top of the staircase and listened to the chatter below, she smoothed her hand down the simplest outfit she owned—a basic navy T-shirt and white cotton capris from Nordstrom. She was nervous. Completely out of her element, every face was unfamiliar, and she was painfully aware that she was out of place here.
Vivian was high-society, and these people were rural farmers and small business owners. They had nothing in common, and yet here she was, on their turf. Even though no one had outwardly judged her and everyone had been exceptionally friendly to her so far, she was still fearful that they’d dislike her in some way.
But she couldn’t hide away upstairs all morning. Gretta was expecting her at the table, and she still had a hell of a drive ahead of her.
Sucking in a huge breath, Vivian descended the stairs. A weak and ready smile played on her lips as she followed the sound of the voices, which had dimmed considerably since her moment of crisis upstairs, and by the time she reached the kitchen, only Gretta and two men remained.
Gretta moved around the table, making sure both men who were seated had plenty to eat on their plates. The one with his back toward Vivian dug into his breakfast with enthusiasm, while the man across from him held up a hand to hold Gretta off from another pile of eggs. He wiped his mouth on a checkered cloth napkin and said, “No more for me, ma’am. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you out there getting hungry before lunch.”
“I’m sure.” He chuckled as he rose from the table, embraced her quickly, and said, “How am I ever gonna find me a wife if you keep trying to fatten me up?” He winked at her, then started for the door, toward Vivian. He didn’t seem surprised to see her standing there, a stranger in his friend’s home. Instead, he just sized her up as he approached, tipped his head slightly, and brushed by her as if she was of no consequence.
Vivian wasn’t sure if she should take offense or not. But if he’d been a woman, she definitely would have. Men were different, though, so she simply couldn’t tell.
“There ya are,” Gretta called. “Grab a seat. The boys have laid waste, but there’s still plenty left for the both of us.”
Feigning confidence, Vivian entered the kitchen fully and sat down a ways from the last remaining man, close to where she’d been before, but not close enough to invade his personal space or hers. He was still actively shoveling food into his mouth and didn’t appear to notice her arrival, which was fine. Gretta smiling widely across from her was enough company to make her happy and comfortable.
“So what are your plans today, dear?” Vivian held out her plate as Gretta loaded it up with a little bit of everything at the table.
“Well, I don’t have a plan, exactly…” she hedged.
Gretta frowned. “No plan? Then where the heck are you headed?”
Clearing her throat, Vivian admitted, “I don’t know that yet. But I was thinking I’d see the ocean.”
“That’s a few hours’ drive yet. But if you don’t know where you’re going in general, how will you know when you get there?”
Shrugging, she said, “Well, I guess when the gas runs out, that’s where I’ll settle in.”
Gretta pinned her with a look. “From what I’ve been hearin’, seems to me that’s already happened.”
Vivian opened her mouth to say something, but she didn’t know what to say. The plan had been to stick where she stopped when the tank ran empty. She was right; it had happened. Did that mean she had already reached her destination?
She still had some money to keep her going for a little while, but not for much longer. Surely, Andrew would cut her out of the joint account once he realized his oversight, which should be soon. The idea of traveling no longer held its appeal either. But what did this little two-stoplight town have to offer her when she was used to bigger places where she could blend in and lose herself in a crowd?
Did she want to lose herself though? Around here, everyone had been so nice to her—welcoming and accommodating. Helpful. Trusting. She’d never met people like these before. It was…kind of nice. Even though she’d never met any of them before, they almost felt like old friends.
Glancing around the kitchen, she reflected on the last twelve hours. There was such warmth here. The pace felt slower, too. Relaxed. She didn’t feel the pressure to move and do and entertain and be so perfect. She didn’t have to constantly strive to impress. The people around here didn’t seem to focus on the material, but the connection with each other.
As Vivian ate, she started questioning whether she could settle down here, make a home for herself. She was surprised to find the idea wasn’t entirely distasteful.
“You’re that city girl from the road.”
The gruff male voice captured Vivian’s attention, and she whipped her head up to look at the formerly quiet farmhand sitting at the opposite end of the table.
She didn’t recognize him right away without the hat, but she’d know that voice anywhere. Which was absurd, since she’d only met the guy one time, but for some reason, he’d stuck with her.
Probably because he was a thief. And super hot. Oh Lord, why was she always attracted to the bad boys? She wouldn’t be the only woman in history to say that, so at least she wasn’t alone.
“And you’re the man with the five-finger discount,” she replied with a fake smile. Nash. That was his name, and it suited him. She refused to admit that she liked it.
Those baby blues were filled with humor that she didn’t understand. Was he proud of himself, or did he just like pissing people off?
