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When Tank dropped me off after our date, he was so quiet, I could barely pry two words out of him. The sudden change was startling. We’d been flirting before – making out against his motorcycle – and then that moron nearly ran us off the road. Ever since then, Tank’s effortless charisma seemed to have vanished, tucked away behind a stoic mask.
It had been three days since our date. Three days of silence. I set the crate of fresh peaches down and fished my phone from my pocket.
No texts. No missed phone calls. Nothing from Tank.
I tried not to let it worry me. We were adults. We had our own busy lives. And I seriously doubted he would ghost me. Not after he’d kissed me…like that. With tongue.
I swore under my breath and fired off a text. Maybe it made me look needy or clingy. I didn’t care. I was worried.
Is everything okay?
I stared at my phone, willing a response to come through.
“Are you texting your boyfriend?” Amelia sing-songed from a nearby tree. At eight years old, she was an unholy terror who always seemed to be up a tree with fruit stains on her shirt from all the apples, peaches, and pears she stole.
“None of your business, Mellie bee,” I countered, shoving my phone back in my pocket.
“Did you kiss him?” she called after me, relentless as ever.
I picked up the crate of peaches again and headed for the shop. I knew I couldn’t get away with dodging that question. Amelia had an uncanny ability to see right through me and I was a terrible liar. So I hurried away as quickly as I could.
Mom was at the counter, speaking to a man in a frayed denim jacket with wraparound shades. When I entered the shop and started restocking the peaches, he removed his sunglasses.
“Is this the lovely Jules?” he asked.
“Yes, she is,” Mom replied. “Jules, this is Lars. He said you have a friend in common.”
Something about Lars seemed familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He removed his sunglasses as he approached and held out his hand. When I took it, he raised my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
A shiver of something unpleasant squirmed down my back. While I certainly appreciated romantic gestures, something about Lars and the way his pale blue eyes studied me made me uneasy. As if I was a bug in a glass case and he was inspecting where to drive the pin through my body.
I pasted on my polite customer service smile and withdrew my hand from his grip as quickly as I could without appearing rude.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “None of my friends have mentioned you.”
Lars clucked his tongue. “That’s a shame. Could have sworn Tank would have told you I was coming.”
My wariness only grew. I hadn’t told Tank this was my family’s business. And I couldn’t imagine Tank would be directing his friends to me after one date.
“I was speaking to your lovely mother before you arrived,” Lars continued. He didn’t seem to require much conversation on my end to keep talking. “She said the business has been in your family for three generations. You must be very proud.”
I turned away, busying myself with the peaches. Something about Lars put me off. I didn’t want to share any more information than I had to. And I certainly didn’t want to encourage him to stick around and chat me up.
“It’s not easy to keep it running sometimes,” I admitted. “But it pays the bills.”
Lars hummed in thought and selected a peach from my crate. Holding my gaze, he lifted the peach to his nose and inhaled deeply.
“Must take quite a bit of work to keep those fruit trees going. Especially in this heat.”
“We make it work,” I replied, hoping I sounded disinterested.
Lars leaned against the shelves and bit into the peach, making a lewd sucking sound as he slurped up the juices that dripped down his chin.
“I bet those trees would go up like matchsticks, in the middle of summer like we are. All it would take was a single spark.”
He snapped his fingers. I flinched. Then indignation took over and I set the crate of peaches down.
“It’s been great to meet you, Lars,” I replied. “But if you don’t mind, I’m very busy. Lots of work to do, you know, running the family business.”
