Crime and Periodicals: Green Valley Library Book #2 Page 6

  I inhaled a huge breath and tried to let some bravery get in along with the air. I promised my sister I would be there for her kids, and that included running interference between them and their loser father.

  Luckily, while the kids had a miserable excuse for a father, that did not extend to his parents. Joe and Essie Adams were the best grandparents any kid could ask for. Joe was an attorney and Essie was the secretary to Bill Monroe, the owner of Monroe & Sons, a big construction company in town. I gasped as realization dawned on me like a tragedy.

  Monroe.

  Wyatt.

  Wyatt Monroe.

  Oh. My. God. I have got to get my head out of the clouds like Ruby keeps telling me.

  A few months ago, I had heard from my father that one of the Monroe & Sons boys had come back to town. Wyatt must be the one—the son that just came home. Didn’t he say he had just moved back to Green Valley? Oh, my freaking gosh, he did say that. That meant he was… No, I can’t think about that right now. I shook my head and continued staring off into space.

  “Earth to Sabrina.” Ruby laughed from the porch. “Let’s go in. I’m starving.”

  “Uh-huh. Coming.” I unstuck myself from my spot on the pathway and headed to join her.

  I had gotten lost in my humiliating thoughts. It wouldn’t be a problem. No one ever had to know anything. I’d just avoid him, and therefore avoid embarrassing both of us.

  I followed her inside. We took our usual seats at the table. I noticed the seat Lizzy usually sat in was empty again. Weston’s girlfriend hadn’t been coming around as much. Gah! Lizzy Monroe—she must be Wyatt’s niece. Weston was crazy about her. I could kick myself for not realizing who Wyatt was when we met him earlier. His roots in Green Valley ran so deep I should have known. I must have been struck stupid by his man beauty. I’d suffered from a case of temporary hot-guy induced amnesia. I blame his dimple! That dimple sucked the intelligence right out of my head like a black hole sucks stuff out of the universe or whatever. See?

  I sighed and passed the bag filled with tiny jars of soup to Ruby, so she could help Harry dish it up.

  “Ruby. What is it, Ruby?” Harry was so excited he was bouncing up and down in his seat.

  “Grandma Essie’s rainbow soup,” Ruby answered. Essie invented rainbow soup for Harry to accommodate his need for his foods not to touch and his compulsion to sort and organize things. It was vegetables of all different colors cooked in her homemade chicken broth, then separated and put into individual jars. I decided not to remind Harry of his promise to taste the fried chicken this week. We’d shoot for next week instead.

  “Best day ever. Best soup ever. Best Grandma Essie ever,” Harry said in a singsong voice. His mood was so contagious, even Weston smiled.

  “I’m glad someone had a good day,” Ruby said and held her fist out for Harry to bump.

  “Oh, Ruby. Bump it. Bump the fist. Just like Mel did. Just like at the park today with Sheriff Wyatt.” Harry bumped his fist to hers then blew it up. “Blow it up, Ruby.”

  Ruby sat there, fist held out, in shock that Harry had finally bumped it. Time after time, Harry left her hanging.; he had never once bumped it. He usually just looked at it and smiled or waved and ran off.

  “Psssht,” Ruby provided the sound effect as she blew it up and took her hand back. “He bumped my fist. Did y’all see it? He finally bumped it.” She let out a whoop. “All right, Harry.” The residual tension created from Weston’s bad mood had been broken, and we all let out a collective sigh.

  Ruby sat back down, then turned to me with her eyebrows up. “So, Aunt Sabrina. What did Harry mean? Just like Mel? Sheriff Wyatt? The park? Anyone else want to know what’s up with that?” Ruby asked the room as she passed me the iced tea.

  I sank down in my seat.

  “Sheriff Wyatt? Monroe?” my father asked.

  I sank lower and reached for the chicken.

  “Sheriff Wyatt is very nice. He is the dad of Mak and Mel. He looks like Superman. Riri is going to go on a date with him,” Harry said through a mouthful of orange carrots.

  “I thought you were asleep!” I cried, before I could think of a way to avoid the topic entirely.

  “Asleep?” Ruby prodded. “Now I’m really curious. Start at the beginning, Aunt Sabrina.” She leaned back in her chair with an expectant look.

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

  “There is no way you aren’t spilling,” Weston added. “No offense, but you never have news. I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “I never have news because I’m invisible. No one in this town knows who I am,” I huffed.

  Ruby laughed. “Oh, Aunt Sabrina… You do realize that when you’re out and about with your head in a book or the clouds or wherever you keep it when we’re in public that other people can see you? You’re not invisible because you refuse to pay attention. You’re not really hiding. You look like a hot Snow White. Believe me, everyone notices you.”

  “They do not,” I protested. She was right. I was not invisible, no matter how hard I tried to be. And sometimes that terrified me.

  “They do too,” Weston argued. “Not to be gross, but I’ve heard ‘your aunt is hot’ way more times than I’m comfortable with. I might be scarred for life.” He shook his head at his plate, then shoveled a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  Ruby laughed at Weston, then turned to me. “Sabrina—you have a date with Wyatt Monroe?”

  My face was now as red as the bell pepper Harry was currently spearing onto a fork. I shook my head and shut my eyes, willing her not to say anything more. I opened one.

  Ruby looked intrigued. Her mouth opened—

  Don’t say it, don’t say it.

  My eyes shot to my father as he interrupted, “The Monroes are good folk. Their sons are nice, responsible boys. Any of them would be good for you, Sabrina. But Wyatt—I like that boy. I operated on him after he injured his knee during a football game when he was at UT. He couldn’t play anymore after that. It killed his chances to go pro. He didn’t let it ruin his life; he carried on. He’s upstanding. Good for you, sweet pea.” He nodded his approval.

  Great.

  “I haven’t said yes yet,” I protested.

  “But you will,” Ruby said, eyebrows up and eyeballs glaring at me. “You are going to say yes. You had better say yes.”

  “He’s going to ask her again at the library. She didn’t answer him at the car,” Harry informed everyone.

  “I thought you were asleep!” I cried again.

  Harry just tilted his head, ate a bite of yellow squash, and shrugged.

  “You say yes to him if he asks again. Or I’ll find him and say yes for you,” Ruby threatened.

  I looked to my father for help, but he was just chuckling and spooning another helping of Front Porch fancy mac and cheese onto his plate.

  I looked over at Weston. He had already quit paying attention. He was busy stuffing his face with chicken and staring at his cell phone.

  And Harry—he was a tiny little traitor.

  “You wouldn’t,” I countered.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  She would.

  “Fine. I’ll say yes—if he asks again,” I huffed.

  “Good. Pass the biscuits please,” she said with a cat-eating-the-canary smile.

  I twisted my lips and handed her the biscuits.

  The rest of dinner was quiet. They were probably all shocked that I had news for a change. I could hardly blame them. I mean—I shocked the heck out of myself today.

  Chapter Seven

  Sabrina

  Since he was home, my father took over with Harry for the rest of the night. They had already gone upstairs to play Minecraft before bedtime. I was free. I did not need to be free. I needed distractions. Weston had left right after dinner to go hang at a friend’s house and I didn’t know where Ruby had disappeared to. Which left me alone. Being alone when I was in this kind of mood was awful. I already knew what my night would b
e like. I’d relive every embarrassing thing I did today while cringing, hating myself, and wondering where I went wrong.

  I headed into the kitchen and stood on tiptoes to reach up to the wine rack, up high in the walk-in pantry. I grabbed a bottle, uncorked it, and poured a big glass. I rummaged around in the snack basket and found some dark chocolate to go with it. If I was going to dwell on my crazy day and torture myself, I would need reinforcements. I snagged a bag of potato chips off the counter as I passed. Extra stress called for extra snacks.

  I headed out of the kitchen through the family room to the short bookshelf-lined hallway that led to my little one-bedroom apartment—also called a mother-in-law unit—attached to the side of the house. I had my own entrances. One on the outside of the house and one inside. I also had a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and everything else you would expect from an apartment. I loved it in here. It was my own comfy little lair. I always felt safe and comfortable while surrounded by my things, especially my books—otherwise known as my escape from reality. I liked that I could be so close to my family but have privacy whenever I wanted.

  I entered my tiny living room and found Ruby sprawled on my overstuffed white couch. She had pushed all my books aside and placed her laptop on the coffee table. So much for privacy. I should have known she wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Sabrina. Oh. My. God!” she squealed.

  Which was weird. Ruby was usually not the squealing type. Something must be up with her. She’d been squealy since dinner. Eye-rolling, sarcasm, and observations laced with a lot of snark—that was more Ruby’s type.

  “Ruby, I am trying not to think about it.” I held my glass of wine aloft as evidence.

  She laughed. “Too bad. I can’t believe you might go out with him. We must have watched that video ten times.”

  I had watched it with her ten times. And another one hundred times on my own—at least.

  About a year ago, when he still lived in Nashville, Wyatt had gone viral. He was the inadvertent star of one of those ‘hot cop’ videos on the internet. Wyatt had been the first officer on the scene of a robbery in progress at a Stop and Go convenience store. During his tussle with the robber, the spinny hotdog cooker-thing had crashed to the floor, caught fire, and caused a big panic. A group of little old ladies had been in the gas station at the time and Wyatt had carried them out—one-by-one—of the burning convenience store. The women screamed and swooned, and the smiles on their faces when he set them down outside were a testament to his bravery. A woman in the parking lot filmed the whole thing on her cell phone. Later, someone combined her video with the surveillance video footage from inside the store and put it online. The building didn’t burn down, and eventually the news anchors agreed that the incident contained more smoke than actual fire. But even so, they still hailed Wyatt a hero. He became famous locally, with pictures of him popping up everywhere online. #StopandGoSuperman.

  The sight of his gorgeous body carrying those sweet, tiny old ladies out of the smoky Stop and Go had permanently embedded itself on my brain. Except, in the video, his face was obscured by the smoke. His bulging biceps and strong thighs, tall frame and thick dark hair were all on magnificent display. Then he turned around and—that ass. It was the most glorious badonka-booty I had ever seen in my life. I had thoroughly enjoyed the sight—multiple times—by myself. It was my favorite thing to watch when I felt the feelings.

  I flopped down on the couch. The wine sloshed a bit in my glass. I tossed the chips and chocolate to the coffee table and sighed loudly for good measure. All of this time spent with my head in the clouds had come back to bite me on my own badonka-booty. I was in such a swirly brain fog when I met Wyatt today that I didn’t recognize him. But I might have if he had been surrounded by smoke and carrying an old lady. I sighed again.

  Unfortunately, I could never face him. His hotness had blinded me from reality—twice! In the video, and in person today. How had I not recognized him? Now that I knew what I should have known this whole time: Wyatt was the Stop and Go Superman, he was one of the Sons from Monroe & Sons construction. And as if those two things were not enough—he was also the unwitting star of my nightly bubble bath fantasies. Gah! I could never look him in the eye again.

  He would know. Somehow, he would figure out what I did when I watched his video and did the things, and then I would die. I would drop dead of embarrassment. I would be the first documented case. People would study it, and then I would come back to life and drop dead again.

  I managed to get out of my head enough to glance at Ruby. She was laughing at my dramatics while she scrolled through her cell phone.

  Um, rude.

  “Are you done obsessing? Can we watch it now?” she asked me with a smile. She placed her phone on my end table and fluffed the pillows behind her.

  “I doubt I’ll ever be fully done obsessing. But for now, I guess so,” I groused and took a huge gulp of my wine.

  “This is the best, most awesome thing that has ever happened to you, Aunt Sabrina. I’m happy for you. For real. I feel like—I think it’s joy? My heart has grown or something. It feels weird.”

  I laughed. “Ruby, I don’t think I can say yes to him. How can I go out with him after the things we said about him when we watched that video?” We had both expressed our avid appreciation of his assets. And that doesn’t even get into the thoughts inappropriate for sixteen-year-old girls I had not shared with Ruby.

  “I’m not gonna tell him!” she exclaimed. “No one knows but us. Let’s take a sacred vow. Right now. We can take it on your wine. Can I have a sip?”

  I laughed. “No, you cannot.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I pinky swear that I will never tell a living soul that we perved on your future husband’s viral video together.” She held out her pinky.

  I linked my pinky with hers.

  “And so, it is done,” she said solemnly. “Let’s seal it by watching the video together one last time.” She eyed the chocolate bar on the coffee table. “Can I have the chocolate?”

  I handed it to her. “Yes, you may.”

  She smiled at me and clicked play.

  One last time won’t hurt, and Ruby was right, no one ever has to know. I settled back into the couch and sipped my wine. Ruby socked me on the arm at the first glimpse of Wyatt with old lady number one. She waggled her eyebrows and made a kissy face at me once he turned around to head back into the Stop and Go and we got a glimpse of that fine ass. I felt better about not recognizing him earlier today. You really couldn’t get a good view of his face. Plus, I’ll be honest—this video was all about that butt in those police uniform pants.

  “Hubba hubba.” Ruby snickered and took a bite of chocolate.

  “Oh, give me a break, Ruby.” I laughed. Then I let out a breath and just watched the rest of the video. Damn.

  “Are you nervous?” she asked, after the video ended.

  I let out a laugh. “Of course I am. I might actually end up getting a date. With him!” I pointed to the laptop. Is this my life?

  “You got that right. You might get a date with the hottest guy in town. I mean—it’s like Henry Cavill, Joe Manganiello, and Shawn Mendes got together and made a baby. It makes no sense, but it’s hot AF. You’re going from zero to whoa in one day.”

  Yep. I sure was.

  Yikes.

  I might see Wyatt. He might ask me out again. I would have to talk to him. I would have to use words that made sense, appropriate facial expressions, normal human body language, and everything else that people did. And I would have to do it all at the same time. I sighed and leaned back against the cushions.

  She smiled sympathetically at me. “You can do it. Oh! You should wear your red sweater, just in case you see him tomorrow. It’s tight around your boobs. You can substitute boobs for at least forty percent of your personality until you get comfortable around him.” She looked me up and down. “With your boobs I would say you could get away with only using, like, twenty-five per
cent of your personality. Maybe only ten.” She sat up straight in her seat. “Oh! I know! You could just smile and nod—men love that.” She grinned at me and flopped back against the cushions.

  I stared at her open mouthed. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “Cosmo. Also, Marianne.” Marianne had been best friends with Ruby since they were toddlers.

  I made a mental note to pick up a copy of Cosmopolitan the next time I was at the Piggly Wiggly.

  “Wear your hair down too. No headband,” Ruby instructed.

  “Anything else?”

  “No more of your nerd-wear. Ditch the cardigans and skirts, Sabrina. Wear some of the stuff we bought when we went back to school shopping for me.”

  “You mean the stuff you forced me to buy?” I smirked.

  “Yep. You already wear heels and makeup all the time—that’s good. Just replace the skirts with the jeans we picked out and you’ll be fine. Oh, start wearing your contact lenses and put your sweaters in the dryer next time you do laundry.” Her broad grin and smiling eyes showed how happy she was for me. Her joy was infectious; I couldn’t help but feel it too.

  I shook my head with a grin. “Anything else, Yoda?”

  “Yourself you should be. Funny and smart you are.” She laughed, then turned serious. “I mean it, Sabrina. Don’t get all hung up on stuff that doesn’t matter. If he asks you out—awesome. If he doesn’t, that’s okay too. What matters is you put yourself out there, right? Carpe diem. Seize the dude, get a life, be yourself, and all that.”

  “Yeah, but who should I be? Who am I? I feel like I’m two people—the me I am at home, with you guys, and the shy bookworm librarian I am everywhere else. I’ve never been myself outside of this house. At least not since…”

  “Since Willa left and then Mom died and you started helping Pop take care of us?” she finished for me with a knowing look.

  I nodded.

  “But you already know who you are. You just said it. You are you when you are here with us. Just do that everywhere. You’re Sabrina Louise Logan. You’re hilarious and smart. You are kind to everybody. You love to read—and yeah, you are kind of a nerd—but in a good way. You’re also shy. But being shy doesn’t mean you can’t have friends or get a boyfriend if you want one. Quit being afraid to be you.”