The Guy Next Door. Missy Tippens
I need to pay off my college debt to prepare to live on my own.”
“Your mom is worried about you, and so am I.”
“Did my mom send you?”
“It was my idea to come tonight.”
But he hadn’t denied her mother’s involvement.
Whether or not she had sent him, Luke hadn’t come by because he wanted to spend time with her. “Ah, I see. You dropped by to make sure I don’t get robbed making the deposit.”
“Your mom mentioned you carry cash to the bank each time you close.”
Darcy shook her head. “I appreciate you caring, but I’m perfectly safe. The night deposit drop box is located inside the front entrance of the mall, so I don’t even leave the premises with money.”
He ran a hand through his hair, causing a curl to drop across his forehead. “And you refuse to call mall security to escort you?”
“I walk with employees from several other stores.” When the timing works out.
“All of you sitting ducks, targets for someone armed and possibly desperate.”
Frustrated that he didn’t seem to be listening to her, she marched to the front of the store and raised the gated door. “You can either trust my judgment, or you can leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Then don’t show up when it suits you and start butting into my business. You’re not my keeper.”
Color streaked across his cheekbones, a sure sign he was majorly frustrated. His jaw sawed back and forth. “No, I’m not. I’m your friend. Your best friend. And that should count for something.”
Of course, he had to go and play the best friend card. They rarely did, only in dire circumstances. Darcy had pulled it once when he was dating a girl who ended up in juvie. He’d used it when she’d been sixteen and made plans to attend a party where there would be drinking, and another time when an overly charming lead singer of a band had asked her out in college.
He must be truly worried about her safety.
Begrudgingly, she reclosed the gate. “Wait here.”
Once again, his victory smile flashed, but at least he had the decency not to verbally gloat.
“I won’t be long closing out the cash register since we hardly sold anything.” She sighed. “If I can’t make the sale when these hoards of kids show up on the weekends, I’m afraid my boss will fire me.”
“And that would be a bad thing because…?”
His sarcastic grin made her smile, too. “Oh, hush.”
Leaving him to guard the place, she batched out the credit card machine, counted the cash and checks and filled out the deposit slip. She tucked the deposit in a lockable bank bag and then placed the cash register drawer, holding a set amount of money for the morning shift, in the safe.
Darcy quickly collected the to-go cups the girls had abandoned and emptied the trash. “I’m ready.”
Luke took the trash bag from her, dumped it in a large rolling bin mall management provided near the shop entrance, and then waited in the mall as she turned off the lights, set the alarm, pulled down the gated door and locked it. He looked around, alert, ready to defend her.
She laughed, but his action set up an ache in her chest that haunted her all the way to the night deposit box. She loved that he cared about her. Yet she longed for more.
Longed for something Luke couldn’t provide.
With a flourish, she tossed the money bag in the bank depository and closed the door, proving her shop closing ritual was safe.
He scowled at her flippant action. “I really don’t like the idea of you doing this several times a week.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to move back home and escort me each night.” She smiled sweetly, though the idea actually held appeal. Would he reconsider coming home?
His intense stare, as if he was possibly considering that option, made her heart race.
“You could do it, you know,” she said.
One side of his mouth hitched up. “Be your bodyguard each night?”
“No. Move back home. Open your own practice here.”
He shook his head as he opened the mall door, holding it for her. She pointed to her car, and they headed that direction.
“Can I ask you something without you getting in a huff about it?” he asked.
Which proved how well he knew her. “Probably not.”
His familiar chuckle, and the fact they’d been friends forever, made her miss the past, less complicated times.
“Why are you in such a hurry to move into your own place?” he asked. “Why not take your time, be a companion for your mom and give up the overtime?”
“I told you. I need to prepare to move out, to support myself. And having the student loans over my head stresses me out.”
“I can tell you’re worried about more than that.”
How could she explain her need to be financially independent in case she never married? “Mom needs her house and her life back. Needs her privacy, because I think she may be seeing someone. I should move on soon, but with bills to pay and no one to help me, I have to first plan and save.”
“Your mom would help if you needed her to,” Luke said.
“Sure, mom would let me live with her if I got in a jam. Even so, I need to be capable of supporting myself and don’t have any backup plan like you do.”
His eyes narrowed. “Backup plan?”
“If your business fails, your grandmother would help out, like she paid for graduate school.”
He straightened, offended. “My business isn’t going to fail.”
Her heart lurched. He’d always been sensitive about succeeding despite his dad’s doubts. “Of course it’s not going to fail. I only meant—”
“There’s your car,” he said coolly, cutting off her explanation. “I want to make sure you’re locked inside before I leave.”
Oh, man. She’d really made him mad. “Thanks for seeing me out safely.” She climbed in and locked the door.
He turned and walked away.
I’m such a rotten friend.
Luke rarely got mad. And when he did, it blew over quickly. But this time he was more than angry. She’d hurt him right where he was most vulnerable.
* * *
On Sunday morning as the congregation rose for the closing hymn for morning worship, Luke glanced at his dad beside him. They were standing in their regular pew in the middle of the sanctuary. Granny stood on the other side of Burt, singing her heart out.
All Luke could think about was that he needed to find a seasoned business partner—preferably his dad—and soon. He’d checked email that morning before leaving for the church and found a message from a client who had decided to leave the firm when he learned of Roger’s retirement, wanting a more experienced trial lawyer. And he wasn’t the first. Several others had already contacted Roger with concerns the past couple of days.
Luke tried to force his mind back to the music, to words that should inspire him and prevent his mind from wandering.
Staring at the hymnal, Luke recalled Darcy’s words from the night before. Did she truly think his business would fail? That he wasn’t capable of seeing it through the transition after Roger’s retirement?
The thought stung,