Page 18 of Bookworm

I sigh and fidget with the hem of my cable-knit sweater. “My very recent ex, who apparently thinks we have unfinished business.”

“Do you?” Waylon’s gaze is directly on me, like he’s looking for the parts I won’t speak about.

“No,” I laugh, “I don’t. But he won’t take no for an answer. I broke it off last week and he’s been showing up at my house, at the park, wherever I go. I turn around, and there he is. It’s insane.”

Waylon looks up toward the west end of the lot, where David walked off. His truck is gone. “Tell me where he lives, and I’ll go teach him a lesson.”

It shouldn’t feel so good to want David to pay for what he’s done to me, but it does. Waylon’s words fill into the cracks that have split open my heart, and somehow, make me feel important. That said, I say, “No, thank you. I couldn’t let you do that. Besides, I think he’s harmless enough.”

That’s a lie.I know it’s a lie.Waylon knows it’s a lie.Hell, I think the man throwing bread to the ducks by the pond, who hasn’t listened to a word of our conversation, knows it’s a lie. Nonetheless, I stare back at Waylon as though it’s the honest to heaven truth.

He tips his head to the side and stares at me, his hand still on my arm, now moving up and down comfortingly. “He had you pinned against the car. You looked terrified, Penny. I couldn’t go back to the ranch, look your dad in the eye, and not do anything about this.”

“Oh, you can’t tell my dad.” My eyes widen, and I flatten my body toward him, my face more serious than it had been.

“Why?”

Waylon and my father have been best friends for as long as I can remember. My dad is Waylon’s second in command on the ranch and they run in all the same circles through the rodeo in town. It’s not going to be easy to ask him to keep this a secret, especially one that involves the safety of his best friend's daughter.

“First off, there’s nothing to tell,” I lie again. “David is an ass, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Besides, you know how my dad is. He’ll go all caveman, wind up hurting David, get himself in trouble, pull me from my apprenticeship at the tattoo shop, and I’ll be destined to work at the diner or the ranch like everyone else in town. And no offense… but neither of those are my thing.”

“Why would he make you quit the tattoo shop? David doesn’t work there.”

“No, but I met David there. He seems to think that hanging around people who cover themselves in ink is asking for a life of a degenerate.”

Waylon looks down at his arms and then toward me. “I’m covered. And I’ve known the man for eons. He’s never said a thing to me.”

I cock my head to the side.

“What?” he probes.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You were going to say something, but you held back.”

I stare at him. “It’s nothing. Just… Dad always said that’s why you… why you’re single.”

He laughs. “Did he? Because of my tattoos? There are plenty of guys in town with tattoos and nice families. And what’s his excuse?”

I shrug. “Anyway, you can see how irrational the man is. I don’t want to stir things up with him. I’m begging you. If I thought I couldn’t handle myself, I’d reach out to someone, but I can.”

“And when the asshole comes back later? What then?”

“Then I handle him like I always have, and he leaves.”

Waylon looks toward me with a wary gaze, as though he’s trying to find the balance between respecting my wishes and safeguarding himself against possible fault. It’s a beautiful gaze, one that I’d like to paint and hang on my wall as the only man that ever took my wishes into consideration before acting.

“Fine,” he groans. “I’ll keep your secret,” he hands me his card, “but you check in with me every day, and you let me install a security system at your cabin.”

I consider his offer. A security system isn’t such a bad idea. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it sooner. Not only does it keep me safe from the asshole known as David, but it would also be nice to know when a bear is snooping around out back. I walked straight into one last week just making my way to the car for work.

“Okay,” I sigh, losing myself in his big, rough palm. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll text you my address.”

He nods and opens my car door, helping me inside carefully. My body lights. It shouldn’t be lit. If anything, this is only proof that I’ve read one too many books.

“Text me when you get home safe. I know a guy that can install the cameras quickly. I’ll have him stop by tomorrow morning. If I’m not with him, don’t open the door. Do you understand?”

I nod and stare up toward Waylon as though he has all the answers, like he’s Prince Charming, and I’m the girl whose panties are way too wet for chapter one.