All Rhodes Lead Here Page 10

  Was he mad? Was he going to kick me out?

  “That’s me.” I held back a gulp. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Thank you for what you did” was his reply, catching me off guard.

  Oh. “It was no problem,” I told the shadowed part of his front. He’d stopped just a few feet away, arms crossing over his chest, I was pretty sure.

  He didn’t sound mad. That was a good thing. Then again, he had no idea I’d just left his house.

  He took another step forward, but I still couldn’t see him that well, just the overall shape of his frame, so wide at the top and narrow at the hips. Did he go to a gym? There was one in town. He had to. Nobody looked like that naturally.

  The man’s deep sigh had me trying to peer at his face.

  “Look….” He seemed to struggle for his words, his tone just as stern as the first time I’d heard it. “I owe you. Am told me what happened.” His exhale was loud but steady. “I can’t thank you enough,” he rumbled in his hard voice.

  “You’re welcome.” The less I said, the better.

  Another exhale. “I owe you. Big-time.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  Another sigh, then, “I do.”

  “No, I promise you don’t,” I threw back. “Please, really, you don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad I could help and that he’s fine.”

  He didn’t say anything for so long I partially expected him not to, but what he did do was take another step forward and then another until he stood closer, arms loose at his sides, so near I could get another good look at that incredible face. The hard, sharply defined bones of his features were tight. He was in jeans, and his T-shirt had a fish on it.

  He was definitely mid to late thirties. Maybe early forties.

  An excellent mid-thirties to maybe early forties. I bet he’d just gone gray young. It happened. There was a singer I’d known who had gone totally silver by twenty-seven.

  And his age was none of my business.

  There were other things I needed to worry about, and I might as well get them over with. He was going to find out anyway, and if he felt like he owed me, maybe he’d forgive me and not kick me out. I could only hope. “I went over to your house real quick, and Johnny let me in. I just wanted to check on your son. I stood at the doorway and was only there for ten minutes, if that. Johnny was there the whole time. Please don’t get mad.”

  Again, he didn’t respond fast enough to make me feel better. He just… looked at me. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but I could see the whites at the edges.

  That’s what my honesty got me, I guess, and I squirmed.

  “I’m not mad,” my landlord said slowly before exhaling once more. His grumbling voice was still hard, but something about his features seemed to soften a microscopic amount. “I owe you. I appreciate what you did. I don’t know how I’ll pay you back, but I’ll figure it out somehow.”

  He took another deep breath, and I braced.

  “I’m… sorry for how I handled you being here.”

  He was apologizing. To me. Sound the alarms.

  “It’s fine,” I told him. “If I think of something I need, I’ll tell you.” Then it was my turn to hesitate. “If you two need anything too, let me know.” I’d be there until I… until I wasn’t. Then I remembered. “Can I ask one question though? You know, just so I know. How many people live in the house with you?”

  I could tell he was watching me carefully before he answered. “It’s only Amos and me.”

  Exactly what I’d thought.

  “Okay.” At least he wasn’t kicking me out. Since he wasn’t, I was going to take advantage of it.

  I extended my hand toward him, and a big, cool one slipped into mine, giving it a solid, slow shake.

  I smiled at him. He didn’t smile back, but that was all right.

  Before he could change his mind and kick me out, I backed up. “Goodnight,” I called out and slipped inside the garage apartment, flipping on the lights and the lock before running up the steps.

  Through the window, I watched Mr. Rhodes pull his Bronco up into his usual spot in front of the house. He opened the passenger door and pulled out two white bags with the name of one of the two fast food places in town stamped on them. Then I kept on watching as he went inside.

  Well, I was still here.

  And hopefully would be for another two weeks.

  Or at least as long as possible.

  Chapter 6

  “Bless your heart, honey, you don’t need to apologize,” the older man said with a smile so filled with sugar I was going to get a cavity.

  His friend, bless his heart, winked. “How could we ever get mad at such a sweet face, right, Doug?”

  My whole body went rigid at their kind words. Words spoken by two very nice customers that I’d been trying to help but couldn’t. I’d known from the moment they had walked up to the counter holding two fishing rods that they were going to ask me something I wouldn’t be able to answer, so I’d been prepared.

  Hell, the first thing out of my mouth had been, “Let me get someone who can help you with any questions you might have on those rods.”

  I had tried, and I knew I had tried to avoid having to stand there like a dummy. I’d memorized most of the prices for the models we carried. I even had a couple of the brands we carried burned into my brain, but that was absolutely it. What the differences between them were, much less why they should get a longer rod versus a shorter one, or even what kind of fishing—or angling as some customers had called it—they were used for, I had no clue.

  So when the man who had to be in his early fifties ignored my words and went ahead and asked, “What’s the difference between these? Why is this one twice the price?” I’d been pretty resigned.

  If we’d been less busy, I could have yelled for Clara across the room. But she was behind the rental counter, talking to a small family about something. Jackie was in the back taking her break, and the only part-time employee I’d met—for the first time that morning—had hung around for about two hours before waving and saying he’d be back.

  Clara and I had looked at each other from across the room, and I’d suddenly understood, even more so than before, how much of a pickle she was in with employees.

  For the record, he hadn’t come back.

  The two men though kept on ignoring me trying to pawn them off on Clara.

  I was glad and relieved that they weren’t being mean or impatient, but I couldn’t help but have my feelings be hurt anyway. I knew that I had gotten myself out of more pickles than I could ever count because some people found me attractive and I was pretty friendly by nature. Despite getting pulled over at least ten times, I had never gotten a ticket, even though some of my friends claimed I drove like a maniac. I just didn’t like to waste time. What was wrong with that? My cousins had teased me nonstop for the way people treated me for something I’d had nothing to do with.

  But at the same time, my genetics were kind of a curse. Some men tended to be misogynistic. Sometimes I got treated like I was an airhead. And a lot of times, I got more attention than I wanted, especially when it was the uncomfortable kind.

  I listened and I tried my best at just about everything, and I had a good heart—as long as you hadn’t wronged me. And all those things were a lot more important to me than what was on the outside.

  I didn’t want to get babied. It made me uncomfortable.

  And it took me a moment to collect myself enough to give the well-intentioned men a sweet smile. “Let me get my boss to help you. I’m new, and I haven’t gotten familiar with everything yet.”

  The one with more gray hair than the other glanced at my boobs so quickly I was pretty sure he thought he was so slick I hadn’t noticed. “Don’t you worry, beautiful.”

  I wanted to sigh, but I just smiled all over again.

  And that’s when the door opened and the last figure I would have expected to come in, did.

 
; Well, not the last, but one of them.

  It was the uniform on that long, strong body that caught my eye first.

  He was already looking at me. And if he was surprised, I wouldn’t have been able to tell because of the sunglasses he had on. Well, that and the fact that the customers decided to keep talking.

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing working here instead of a clothing store? Or maybe a jewelry store? I’d bet you’d sell everything in one those.”

  Pretty much any other job but this one was what they were hinting at.

  I was trying my best. I really was. But it had only been a couple weeks.

  I slid my gaze back to the less gray-haired man. “I’m not really that fashionable, and I don’t wear much jewelry.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, Mr. Rhodes wandered farther into the store, but I could tell he was still looking at me.

  “One of my friends is a lawyer in town; he might be looking to hire a new secretary if I put in a good word for you,” the one with the most amount of gray hair said.

  Did he insinuate he’d hint at his friend to fire his current employee to hire me?

  I shook my head and tried to give him another smile. “That’s all right, I like it here.” When I wasn’t screwing up. And when people weren’t petting me on the head like it was okay for me to not know things.

  Fortunately, they settled on a rod on their own, and I rang him up and did my best to ignore the way they both kept staring at my face and boobs. When he took the receipt and rod out of my hands, I gave them both a smile and only let myself sigh once they were out of there.

  But just as soon as the door closed, the reminder that if I was planning on staying—and yeah, I didn’t love every part of the job, but one more glance at how tired Clara was told me I wouldn’t be leaving any time soon—I needed to get my shit together. For her. I needed to learn so I could answer questions on my own and not feel like crap about being so useless.

  That was when I looked around the store and spotted the man by the fishing accessories.

  It hit me.

  Who would know more about outdoor things than a game warden?

  No one.

  Okay, maybe someone, but I only knew very limited someones here, and it wasn’t like I could ask Clara to sit me down and teach me anything. We barely had enough time to talk at the store, and she was always busy afterward. We’d made plans twice to go out for dinner, and she’d bailed both times because something had come up with her dad.

  And sure, Mr. Rhodes didn’t exactly seem to have a whole lot of extra time on his hands either, considering I only saw his truck at home after seven most nights but…

  I had saved Amos’s life, hadn’t I?

  And he had said he owed me, even though I didn’t plan on ever taking him up on the offer, right?

  The more I thought about it, the more I settled into the idea of asking him for help. What would he say? That he had better things to do? Or he’d remind me that I didn’t even have two more weeks left at his place?

  Which reminded me that I needed to decide if I was staying so I could find another rental.

  Or not.

  I rang out a couple more customers as I thought about it, and by the time he strolled up after saying something to Clara and saying something to Jackie that I couldn’t hear—how he knew them, I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to find out—he slowly walked up to the counter and set down two spools of line. I should really figure out what the point of one being thicker than the other was.

  “Hi, Mr. Rhodes,” I greeted him with a smile.

  He’d taken his sunglasses off and slid them through one of the gaps between the buttons of his work shirt. His gray eyes were steady on me as he said in that same uninterested, stern tone from before, “Hi.”

  I took the first package of fishing line and scanned it. “How is your day going?”

  “Fine.”

  I scanned the next package and figured I might as well go in for the kill since no one was around. “You remember that time you said you owed me?” A day ago.

  He didn’t say anything, and I peeked up at him.

  Since his eyebrows couldn’t talk, they formed a shape that told me exactly how distrustful he was feeling right then.

  “You do, okay. Well,” and I lowered my voice, “I was going to ask if I could redeem that favor.”

  Those gray eyes stayed narrowed.

  This was going well.

  I glanced around to make sure no one was listening and quickly said, “When you aren’t busy… could you teach me about all this stuff? Even if it’s just a little bit?”

  That got him to blink in what I was pretty sure was surprise. And to give him credit, he too lowered his voice as he asked slowly and possibly in confusion, “What stuff?”

  I tipped my head to the side. “All this stuff in here. Fishing, camping, you know, general knowledge I might need to work here so I have an idea of what I’m doing.”

  There was another blink.

  I might as well go for it. “Only when you aren’t super busy. Please. If you can, but if you can’t, that’s okay.” I’d just cry myself to sleep at night. No biggie.

  Worst case, I could hit up the library on my days off. Hang out in the grocery store parking lot and google information. I could make it work. I would, regardless.

  Dark, thick, black eyelashes dipped over his nice eyes, and his voice came out low and even. “You’re serious?” He thought I was shitting him.

  “Dead.”

  His head turned to the side, giving me a good view of his short but really pretty eyelashes. “You want me to teach you to fish?” he asked like he couldn’t believe it, like I’d asked him to… I don’t know, show me his wiener.

  “You don’t have to teach me to fish, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I haven’t been in forever. But more about everything else. Like, what is the point of these two different kinds of line? What are all the lures good for? Or are they called flies? Do you really need those gadgets to start a fire?” I knew I was whispering as I said, “I have so many random questions, and not having internet makes it hard to look things up. Your total is $40.69, by the way.”

  My landlord blinked for about the hundredth time at that point, and I was pretty sure he was either confused or stunned as he pulled his wallet out and slipped his card through the reader, his gaze staying on me for the majority of the time in that long, watchful way that was completely different from the way the older men had been eyeballing me earlier. Not sexually or with interest, but more like I was a raccoon and he wasn’t sure if I had rabies or not.

  In a weird way, I preferred it by a lot.

  I smiled. “It’s okay if not,” I told him, handing over a small paper bag with his purchases inside.

  The tall man took it from me and let his eyes wander to a spot to my left. His Adam’s apple bobbed; then he took a step back and sighed. “Fine. Tonight, 7:30. I’ve got thirty minutes and not one longer.”

  What!

  “You’re my hero,” I whispered.

  He looked at me, then blinked.

  “I’ll be there, thank you,” I told him.

  He grunted, and before I could thank him again, he was out of there so fast I had no chance to check out his butt in those work pants of his.

  Either way, I couldn’t help but be relieved.

  That had gone better than I’d expected.

  * * *

  I was still in shock over my tutoring lesson when the alarm on my phone went off at 7:25 p.m.

  I’d set it so that I’d have more than enough time to finish whatever I was doing—that was putting together a puzzle I’d bought at the dollar store—and walk next door.

  Was it dumb that I was nervous? Maybe. I didn’t want to say or do anything to get me kicked out ahead of time.

  But I hated screwing up.

  And I hated being in a position where I was unprepared.

  Most of all, I didn’t like to feel dumb. Yet that was exactly how I’
d felt way too many times while working at the shop. I was fully aware there was nothing wrong with me not knowing things—because I was sure I knew a hell of a lot more about a lot of things than other people did. I’d like to see most people work in a music store. Personally, I’d kill it. I’d spent the last decade of my life around musicians. The amount of random knowledge I’d picked up over the years, surprised me. I could keep time and decently play three instruments.

  Yet none of that benefitted me at all anymore. I hadn’t even felt the urge to write since that month with Yuki. My words had dried up; I was pretty sure. That part of my life was done now. It wasn’t like I knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my life anyway. No pressure, right?

  So in the meantime, I might as well help my old friend.

  If I was going to do that, I wanted to do it well. My mom hadn’t half-assed things, and I had never been the kind of person to do that either. She would have told me to study, to not give up.

  And that’s what led me down the stairs and across the gravel driveway, holding a container of blueberry muffins I’d bought from the grocery store after work and the notebook I used to take notes for the hikes I was planning on doing. I thought about the box full of notebooks that I hadn’t opened in a year, then shook the thought away.

  I eyed Mr. Rhodes’s truck as I walked past it and knew I was going to the right person.

  I hoped.

  I knocked and took a step back. About three seconds later, a shadow of a figure appeared down the hall before lights were flipped on, and I took in the size of the body. It definitely wasn’t Amos.

  That thought alone made me smile just as he opened the door, didn’t say a word, and gestured me in with a tip of his head.

  “Hi, Mr. Rhodes,” I said as I crossed the doorway and beamed up at him.

  “You’re on time,” he noted, like that surprised him, as he closed the door behind us. I waited for him to walk ahead so he could tell me where to sit. Or stand.

  Maybe I should have just googled all this. Or gone to the library. But I wasn’t a resident yet, so more than likely I wouldn’t be able to get a library card.