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The Weight of Perfection: Grand Harbor - Book Three Page 3
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“What do your parents think?”
“Once they moved to South Carolina, they were too removed to do anything about it. They kept sending him money every time he called to say he was in a bad situation, but all of that went straight up his nose. I doubt they’ve heard from him the past couple years either, unless he hit them up for money before coming here to ask me.”
The entire thing broke my heart. We were close as kids. He was a few years older than me, and I looked up to him growing up. The picture in my locker was taken on my twelfth birthday, when he was fifteen. Not too long after that picture was taken, however, he fell in with a pretty rough crowd. It all went downhill from there. I tried to help him so many times, but I felt like he ended up worse off each time. I so badly wanted to save him, but I knew I never could until he truly wanted to be saved.
“More importantly, you have a date tomorrow night with the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen,” Deborah gushed. I appreciated her changing the subject.
“I know. I think I’m going to vomit.”
*****
I had a half-day shift at the bank until noon, then joined my friends for some beach volleyball after lunch. We played for a few hours, soaking up the August sun, and then I finally headed back home to get cleaned up for my date. Olivia and Sophia gave me quite the pep talk about it earlier, but I could no longer remember anything they said. I was too nervous.
Right around six-thirty, there was a knock at my door. As I opened it, I felt like I stopped breathing. Luke looked even more handsome than he had the last few times I’d seen him. He was wearing dark jeans and a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms. His skin was tan, his face perfectly shaved, and his hair was perfectly styled. He had to be a felon. It was the only rational explanation for the universe giving him to me tonight.
He held out a white box.
“What is this?”
“I’m not really a flowers guy. I know they all have different meanings, and the colors all say something different, and with my luck I would pick out the ones people use for funerals, so I scrapped the entire flower thing. Do people even bring flowers to dates anymore? I wasn’t sure, and my friends had mixed opinions on it and they can’t be trusted. I’m more of a food guy, so I thought I’d bring you something edible instead. Is that weird? Maybe I’m over thinking this. I haven’t done this in awhile.”
Because you’ve been locked up in prison for years? It had to be true. What kind of man this attractive didn’t know how to pick up a girl for a date? Although come to think of it, it had been awhile for me as well, given how long I was with Nathan. Sure, we went out all the time, but the whole ‘formal dating’ thing passes so quickly when you’re in a relationship. Before long, the ‘dating’ ritual is merely just an argument about where you’re getting take-out from.
“What’s inside?” The box had a gold seal sticker on it from some bakery, so I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to open it now or later.
“It’s a peanut butter pie that will change your life,” he said enthusiastically. “The way I see it, now this night will end in pure bliss for you no matter what. Either you’ll want to keep my charming self around, or, if you think I’m boring or an ass or whatever, at least you’ll still have something amazing to come home to. I figured that was a win either way.” He shrugged his shoulders in an animated fashion, and this time I found him to be the oddly adorable one, caring so much about how I felt at the end of the night.
“It feels heavy.”
“That’s my eternal optimism. I’m secretly hoping I’ll get to eat some too, so there’s enough for both of us. Although that was one of those things I should be thinking in my head, but not exactly admitting out loud. Whatever. I’m literally bribing you to hang out with me for as long as possible. There. I said it. Are you ready to go?”
I giggled. “Yes. Let me just put this in the fridge real quick so it will be cold.”
“Ah, I can’t take this. It’s like we’re the same people.” He put a hand to his chest as I walked away laughing.
We climbed into his truck and made the twenty minute drive to Crescent Pier, making small talk along the way.
“I’m guessing you’re not from Grand Harbor?”
“What makes you say that?” He flashed me a curious smile from the driver’s seat.
“Well, I’ve never run into you before. Grand Harbor is too small of a town for that. How old are you? Despite the fact that we’ve kissed already, you’re technically a complete stranger.”
“Let’s play a game. You tell me what you think, based on what you know so far. Guess my back story. Let’s see how close you are.”
“Oh no, this is going to go terribly wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m a math person, right? I work with numbers all day. From what I’ve gathered, there’s like a 72% chance you’re a felon, running from the law.”
He laughed. “What? Why would you think that? Just because I punched a couple of mouthy guys at a concert and was escorted away by the cops?”
“No, because you don’t exist on the internet. You’re nowhere to be found. And trust me, my friend Olivia, she can find anyone.”
“You seriously got in a vehicle with someone that was 72% likely to be a criminal? Do you not have parents who’ve warned you about that kind of thing? Do you also cross streets without looking both ways, or dive into water without knowing how deep it is? I’m going to have to keep a close eye on you. You’re reckless.”
I giggled. “I’m actually an insanely cautious person. I swear. My friends were just doing their due diligence to make sure you weren’t a crazy person.”
“Yet they found nothing at all, good or bad, and here you are…”
“Yes. I’m also insanely optimistic, so please don’t murder me and prove me wrong. I hate being wrong.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a chuckle. “Well, I’m not a felon. I promise. I have a brother who is, but not me.”
“Kyle Beckett!”
“Seriously? You found dirt on my brother?”
“Yeah, dreamy eyes, but not so good at breaking and entering, right?”
“That’s what you took away from his list of crimes? Dreamy eyes? Dear Lord, I will never understand women. I don’t even know how to redirect you on that one.”
“Other than the dreamy eyes, you guys don’t really look alike though. His hair is so much lighter.”
“He’s just a half-brother,” Luke clarified. “I have a couple of those. So there it is, I’m not a felon, but I can’t even begin to imagine what other assumptions you may have about me.”
“Well, here goes. I think you’re a few years older than me, maybe twenty-six or twenty-seven? Being from out of town, you must be here for a reason, like work or something. That new Riegart plant they’re putting here, they’re opening two thousand jobs for that. Maybe you’re like a roofer? No, your hands look too clean and soft. You work inside. Project manager? Construction foreman? You don’t really look like an IT guy. Anyway, you mentioned brothers, but you definitely have a sister too. Probably a few dogs. Your family is proud of you. Hobbies probably include kayaking and…basketball? Sorry, too cliché because of your height? Let’s go Lacrosse. And pie – you like sitting in diners eating pie with your grandma because it reminds you of your youth and makes you feel nostalgic.”
He stared back at me with a bewildered expression.
“How’d I do?”
“That’s actually really impressive.”
“What? I nailed it?”
“No, you actually didn’t get one single thing right,” he said with a laugh. “Not the dogs. No grandma. Kayaking? I’ve never even been in a kayak before.”
“Really? None of that is right? You have to at least have a sister.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You seem…kind. Sensitive. Chivalrous, I don’t know.”
“Yeah? What gave you that impression?
When I hit two guys in the face over a dumb comment? Or when I bailed on you in the middle of our conversation after that because I couldn’t find the courage to ask you out? Or when I brought you a pie because I don’t know a thing about flowers?”
“For the record, I would take dessert any day over flowers, so you actually aced that one. You opened the truck door for me when I got in. And that night at the concert, you just seemed…sweet. I was a stranger in trouble and you helped me. That was a big deal to me.”
“Well, no sisters, but I was raised by a single mom. And given mention about the two half-brothers, clearly she was a pissed off wronged woman who wanted to make sure not every man in her life was a complete asshole. She would smack me upside the head if I so much as looked at a girl the wrong way. Worse if I didn’t hold open a door for someone, so maybe that’s where it comes from. I wouldn’t call it chivalry. More like fear of a woman scorned.” We both laughed.
“Well you have to be from out of town. That part has to be true.”
“I’m not from as far away as you probably think,” he replied. “Not technically Grand Harbor, but I grew up only twenty miles north in Oak Shores. I went to Oakland High.”
I was surprised he grew up so close to me, but not all that shocked that our paths had never crossed. Oak Shores wasn’t all that safe of an area, and it was too small of a school to compete against mine for any sports. My friends and I never did anything in Oak Shores.
“I moved to Grand Rapids for awhile after school though,” he continued. “Just came back recently for family reasons.”
He didn’t offer more, so I wasn’t sure I should ask.
“Well I failed all of that. Your turn now. What’s my back story? Let’s see if you fare any better than I did.” I smiled back at him from the passenger seat, appreciating how easy he was to talk to.
“You’re outgoing. Easy to talk to. Honest. Organized. Genuine. Though unfortunately easily lured by dangerous men who offer pie.”
“I’ve told you all of those things. That was easy. What else?”
“You’re a good person.”
“That’s all you’ve got? That’s not unique. You could guess that about anyone.”
“It’s not as common as you think.” He chuckled, pulling the truck into the parking lot by Crescent Pier. “Trust me, there are not a lot of good people where I’m from, so it’s an anomaly. I don’t know very many good people.”
“Dammit,” I groaned.
“Am I scaring you off already?”
“No, that’s not it. You want to talk about bad people? Right there.” I motioned toward a gray Camaro, cursing some more under my breath. “He’s the worst of them all.”
Chapter 4
“Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No. He doesn’t get to win everything.” I grabbed my purse from my lap as he shut off the engine.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. He’s not worth it.” I hated that Nathan’s car was parked in this same lot, no doubt eating at the same restaurant we were headed to. That was the downside to Grand Harbor – these tiny Lake Michigan towns were hard to hide in. It was only a matter of time before I ran into him. I just hated that this was the first time since our breakup. I hoped so badly he wasn’t with her.
We climbed out of the truck and headed into the restaurant. Thankfully we were seated on the opposite side of the room from my ex. I couldn’t see the face of the girl he was with, but based on her long, dark hair, it looked like the girl from the pictures I found on his phone when I accidentally glanced over at some texts coming through while he was in the shower one night.
We placed our food order and easily slipped back into our conversation.
“I like this place,” I commented, looking around at the industrial ceiling and the cool wooden bar top lining the side of the restaurant.
“Is he ruining this?”
“What?”
“The guy in the orange shirt sitting at the back table.”
“How, uh, how did you know it was him?”
“The daggers in your eyes as you glanced over there,” he said with a smirk.
“Sorry, I wish it wasn’t that obvious. I’m trying to be unaffected by it.”
“Do I need to sucker punch someone else for you?”
“You would do that again for me?”
He smiled. “We could make it a tradition of sorts.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that something you do often?”
“The manly part of my brain wants to say yes, but the truth – outside of the concert incident, it’s been years since I’ve hit someone. The last person I punched was probably my brother Kyle, back in high school. And he would’ve deserved it too, so don’t think I just go around punching people unjustified. What about you?”
“Have I ever punched someone?” I almost spit out my water. It was a crazy assumption – I had a hard time squishing bugs because it seemed cruel, so naturally I preferred to leave humans unharmed as well. “Never. I couldn’t do it. I’m more fond of harsh verbal warnings.”
“Wow, you live dangerously,” he teased.
“I thought you were a felon, remember? I do live dangerously, when it involves dimples and pie. My recklessness brought me here, remember? I just don’t think punching is even one of my reflexes. One of my friends has done it, though. Olivia. I’ve actually seen her do it twice. Maybe not a full punch, but an open-handed slap at least. She’s the feisty one. I doubt Sophia has ever hit someone. She’s the wise one. Definitely too rational for a quick reaction.”
“Those are the girls you were at the concert with?”
“Yep. We’ve been best friends since I moved here in middle school. They’re my favorite people on this planet.”
“Well, which one are you? You have the feisty one and the wise one…who are you?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. That’s a good question. I wonder what word they would use to describe me. The normal one?” I giggled. “I’m the cautious one, for sure. Olivia’s crazy, Sophia is reliable. I’m safe. Loyal. Stable. Geez, does that make me boring? I’m just easy-going, that’s all. Predictable.”
“There could be worse traits.” He smiled back at me from across the table and I loved talking to him. He held up his water glass, holding it out to me. I lifted mine up as well and he clinked them together. “You seem pretty perfect to me as you are. Don’t ever apologize for that. Here’s to being cautious.”
I laughed as he said it. “You don’t seem cautious at all. You seem a lot more...free spirited. I imagine you don’t second guess yourself all the time. Not like I do.”
“I reckon there’s a whole lot more you need to learn about me,” he said with a raised brow. “I second guess everything. The pie, remember? There’s proof. I don’t know why I’m back in Oak Shores, taking care of an old man who abandoned our family. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I don’t know what I’m doing with a girl like you, which I imagine I don’t deserve.”
“What makes you say that?” I narrowed my eyes at him, surprised by his admission.
“I told you, you’re a good person,” he said hesitantly.
“And you’re not?”
“I’ve made some…missteps.” I could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I mean, I’m not a bad guy. I’m not trying to scare you off.”
“Are you or aren’t you a felon?”
“I told you I’m not. That was true.”
“Then I’m not scared.”
“Glad to know you have that as your tipping point for your dating life,” he teased.
Our food came, interrupting our conversation. We thanked the waitress and began eating. The pizza was amazing, and within a few minutes, the opening band started playing. It was a little too loud to converse across the table once the music began.
We listed to the next two bands, making small talk about music in between the songs. Neither of us cared for the sound of the last band so we
decided to head out for a walk down the pier. He grabbed my hand as we walked, and I felt his touch throughout my entire body.
“He cheated on me,” I blurted out as we strolled down the old wooden dock away from the bar. “The guy in the orange shirt – we dated for a year, and it came out of nowhere. I was totally blindsided by it, which was even worse. He probably could’ve carried on that way forever, which is what really eats at me. I haven’t really processed all of it. I’ve kind of just been ignoring it. My friends have been trying to set me up ever since, but truthfully, I’m probably not ready for it. They think I need a rebound, but I don’t. I’m a mess. I thought I was fine, but seeing him - I feel like a complete fool all over again.”
“He’s the fool for doing it. He’s clearly an idiot.”
“Yeah? Then why does it feel like I’m the idiot for trusting him in the first place? And maybe even more of a fool for wanting to put myself through all of that again by agreeing to a date tonight?”
“I don’t know. Why do people do that to themselves? Why do we blame ourselves when someone else lets us down? Human nature, I guess. But I assure you, the only fool is him. He’ll come to realize that eventually.”
“I wish instead he’d fall off the end of this pier,” I muttered. “Sorry, that was mean. I don’t want him to die, but some mild suffering would make me feel a little better.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about.”
“What?”
“You’re too good of a person. I’m not saying everyone should turn out like my mother. That’s the opposite message. She was done wrong and she was out for blood and she’s been bitter and angry about it ever since. That’s no way to live either, I know that. But someone commits this horrible wrong, and you wish ‘mild suffering’ upon them? That’s asinine. It’s okay to be angry about it. It’s okay to do something about it.”
“Like push him off a pier?”
He laughed. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying you don’t have to be so polite about it. What did you tell those guys that night at the concert? That your boyfriend would be displeased by their behavior? That’s what really struck me about you.”