Mr. Good Enough, page 18
He flicked a glance at Abel, then back at Maddie. “Okay.” He stepped away from the table. “Later then. Whenever’s good for you.”
It was exactly what he was supposed to say, but it made her madder. She didn’t want him to cooperate. She wanted to him to argue. She wanted him to blame her for all his problems. She wanted him to sprout cold, slimy scales and have dirty sock breath so Cupid and her subconscious would quit reminding her how well he wielded a kiss.
“Shoot, Maddie, you’re Swish’s campaign manager?” Abel slid over to the wall, leaving a huge empty spot for somebody else to sit in. “Why didn’t you say so? Sit on down, Swish. You don’t mind, do you, Maddie? Ain’t like you’re gonna try and talk me out of my pants now.” He chuckled at his own joke.
Maddie got an unfortunate mental image of what that might look like, and the vodka started sounding good again.
Trent eyed Maddie. He took another step away from the table.
“By all means, sit.” Scowling, she waved at the vacant spot. “Abel has a lot of opinions on what’s good for Wendell Springs, don’t you, Abel?”
“Sure enough. There’s a time I’s thinking of running for mayor myself to get the Little League team going again, but I sure ’nough won’t be getting the votes. Got a nephew who ain’t got a team to play on no more.”
Trent lowered himself into the booth, still eyeing Maddie. “Things aren’t what they used to be.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Abel nodded vehemently. “Don’t know if I ever told you, but that night Andi let me take her to homecoming, that was the best night of my life.”
Trent smiled as though he meant it. “Seem to recall she had a pretty good time too.”
“She was one special lady.” Abel snuck a guilty glance at Maddie. “No disrespect, Maddie. A’course you’re special too.”
Her cheeks were hot enough to burn the plate of fajitas their waitress carried past. Would it be wrong if she snuck out the bathroom window?
“The mayor disbanded the Little League team?” Trent prompted.
Her shoulders hitched. Abel didn’t seem to notice, launching into his usual batch of complaints while Trent nodded as if he wanted to do something about it. Like he cared. Like he truly wanted to make a difference.
It was a lot easier to dislike the Trent who had obvious hidden agendas than the Trent who was starting to belong in this little patch of the world.
By the time the waitress got around to stopping by for drink orders, Maddie was done. Done with the fake games, done with the date, done for the day. She grabbed her purse and slid out of the booth. “Abel, I’m sorry, but work was tough today and I’m getting a headache.”
Abel’s eyebrows shot up. “Shoot, Maddie, you okay to drive home?”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
Trent looked about to say something, but she cut him off. “You two enjoy your evening. And don’t forget to tell Trent the part about not getting paid in January.”
Abel snapped his fingers. “Well, durn it all, I just ’bout forgot about that budget mess.”
While Abel continued his litany, Maddie made a break for the front door. Wimpy way out, but she had more important things to do.
Like look for a boyfriend outside Candella County.
Outside, there was an extra chill in the wind. It wouldn’t be long before she had to pull out her fleece pants and sweatshirts. She’d hoped to be relying on body heat this winter, but her odds didn’t look good.
It was time to face facts. If she wanted to meet someone worth settling for, she had to consider that he might live farther away than she would’ve liked. But Bloomington wasn’t far, and neither was Urbana. She could test the waters out, see what popped up. If he was good enough, she could move. They’d still be within an easy drive of her family. And Gina. Mad Designs was mobile. If business got any worse, there were more opportunities for both of them to pick up work in a bigger city. Less probability that anyone would care to shut down MisterGoodEnough.com, too, which still hadn’t produced a good match.
Not that Maddie was helping with that.
Her shoulders sagged as she unlocked her Bug. Dating had never been easy, but finding a date had never been this hard. She’d lowered her standards. What was the problem?
She slid into the car and buckled up. Next week would be better. Next week she’d have a couple of new prospects, a couple of real prospects. If Trent stayed in the campaign, she’d turn him over to Ruby. Cat for a campaign seemed like a fair trade. Especially since said cat had been sniffing around the door to her paint supplies when she left. Bailing on Abel tonight was definitely a good thing. She had an animal to bond with, after all. So she slid her key into the ignition and turned it.
Nothing happened.
She tried again, but the engine wouldn’t roll over.
She glared up at the sky. “You win, okay?” she yelled. “I give up. Can I please have a decent guy now?”
Dusty orange clouds drifted by overhead as a new rhythm drummed through her core. She paused, tilted her head, and the whistling burst out in her mind.
“Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”
Cupid was damn lucky Maddie couldn’t take a paintbrush to his bathroom.
IT TOOK Trent exactly three minutes to pay for Abel’s drink and pawn him off on some of his buddies at the bar. He was pretty sure it was three minutes too long. Especially since Abel hadn’t had any qualms about summing up his date with Maddie during those three minutes. Abel wasn’t a bad guy, but Maddie could do better.
A lot better. It pissed him off that she’d settle so low.
He crashed through the door. Maddie’s purple Beetle was still tucked into its parking spot beneath a streetlamp a few spaces beyond his truck.
He barreled across the parking lot, but slowed as he got closer. The hood was popped, and Maddie slouched over the steering wheel muttering to herself.
Maybe he’d get to play hero for real this time.
He cautiously reached out and rapped on the window. Maddie’s head jerked up. Her eyes narrowed. Her arm moved, and he instinctively jumped out of reach. She bounded out of the car. “Fine. You want to talk this bad, talk. Then fix my fucking car and leave me alone.”
He held his hands up and took another step back. Been a long time since he’d dealt with one this hot. “Easy. Just looked like you could use some help.” Apparently not the kind he was equipped to give, if the deranged look in her eyes was any indication. Maybe he’d keep the news about Hunter Galloway to himself for a little while.
“What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Car.”
Despite the low evening light, he could make out the blotches on her cheeks, and it hadn’t escaped his notice that her fists were balled and ready to fire. Would’ve been nice if he had the luxury of being offended. “Cross my heart, I didn’t even breathe on it. You want me to call somebody to come take a look at it?”
“No, I want you to fix it.”
He tried a smile. Maybe she’d loosen up if he could act as though he were relaxed. But having Maddie this angry wound him tighter than he’d expected. And damned if it wasn’t turning him on at the same time. “Sorry, don’t know much about these foreign cars.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Your truck’s a Toyota.”
“But it’s put together here.”
A feral growl escaped her lips. He retreated another step and fumbled in his pocket for his phone. “Look, I do houses, not cars. Don’t know how to take ’em apart, don’t know how to put ’em back together. You want to talk to my mechanic? He’ll tell you.”
“Yeah, actually.” She held her hand out. “I do.”
He pulled up Slick’s number and handed her the phone. She pulled her own phone out of her pocket and thumbed over the screen. Probably checking Slick out on the Internet.
Trent fought back a grin. Working for it, trying to be good enough for Maddie, this was new. He liked the challenge.
After a minute, Maddie put her own phone back, then dialed the number on Trent’s phone. He tucked his hands in his pockets and waited, enjoying the view.
She drummed her fingers on the roof of her car while she glared at him. After an eternity, a diabolical smile split her lips. “Sorry, hon,” she said, “I’m not Sawyer. I’m in possession of his phone, a broken 2004 VW Beetle, and his word that you’re going to tell him how to fix it.”
Slick’s hoot of laughter erupted from the phone and echoed across the parking lot. When the laughter finally died away, Maddie’s brows dipped into dangerous territory. Trent could only imagine what Slick was telling her. Nothing complimentary about Trent’s mechanical skills, that much was certain.
“Well, I hope he pays you good for advice like that,” Maddie snapped.
Slick howled again, then said something else Trent couldn’t make out. Maddie’s nose twitched, and her frown deepened. “You’re not even good on the phone. What makes you think you’d make me any happier in person?”
Ah, that was right. Slick liked the firecrackers. Trent was beginning to understand why.
“You keep on talking,” Maddie said into the phone. “I’ll make sure to have my daddy say a few extra prayers before my brothers load up their shotguns and head down to see you.”
She snapped the phone shut and shoved it at Trent. “Nice to see you keep company with your own kind.”
His lips twitched. She was funny when she was pissed. Mostly when she was pissed at somebody else. “You need a ride somewhere? Or you want me to go get Abel and see if he can help?”
She held her hand out again. “Tell you what. You stay here and work this out with Abel, and I’ll take your truck.”
He winced. He’d let Ella drive his truck only once or twice, and never by herself.
Maddie rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. “Go away.”
“Look, she’s pretty loaded down.” He hated groveling. But it felt wrong to leave her here to wait for somebody else when he was perfectly capable of giving her a lift home. “You drive a big truck before?”
She paused and squinted up at him as if she couldn’t decide whether he was serious. But some of the venom finally left her voice. The resignation that replaced it hit him in the gut though. “What do you want this time?”
“Not a thing.”
Her lip curled. “Right. You came all the way out here to interrupt my evening because you don’t want anything.” She sighed. “So what happened? The mayor see Ruby’s menu and threaten to tar and feather you? Somebody make a crack about your not belonging here? Or did you want to come in here and see your picture hanging on the wall for old times’ sake? Go on, spit it out so I can get back to my regularly scheduled life. You’re not getting my house, so don’t bother with that one.”
Yeah, he had that coming. “I wanted to apologize for being an ass.”
“Uh-huh.”
He rubbed his hand over his neck. “I ran into the mayor today. He thanked me for running. And then I saw Ruby’s new menu. I swear, Maddie, I’m not doing this. Somebody else started the petition. I don’t want to be mayor.”
She chewed on her lip and waited.
He scratched his shoe over a pebble in the asphalt. “You were right about the house too. Linda doesn’t want it. I’m sorry. I won’t bother you about it anymore.”
“Reverse psychology will get you nowhere with me.”
He probably deserved that too. “Took me a while, but I realized people are more important than buildings. I’m sorry.”
She shifted on her feet, eyeing him curiously, but then indignation brought her nose up a notch. “Oh my God. Parker threatened to blacken your other eye, didn’t he?”
Trent felt another grin forming. “He was holding a sledgehammer.”
“He was what? If your behavior costs my brother any more grief with his daughter, I will hunt you down and ruin you.”
Trent held his hands up. “Just a joke. Kidding. Sheesh.”
“So he wasn’t holding a sledgehammer?”
“It was a civilized discussion. I promise.”
She was gnawing on her lip again. “Swear on Andi’s grave.”
If he did that, he’d probably get called a cheat because Andi didn’t have a real grave, and then he could forget the ideas he was getting from watching her lips. “How about I swear on the ground her ashes are scattered on. Good enough?”
She seemed to mull it over. “For now.”
“Truce?”
“You want a truce, hand over your keys.”
Calling a cab would be easier. Probably cheaper in the long run too. “How about I give ’em to you once we’re both in the truck?”
Her eyed narrowed again. “Do you honestly think I’m the kind of person who’d steal your truck?”
“Making sure there aren’t any little addendums to the cease-fire.” Like making him walk his ass back to Wendell Springs, or letting her paint the truck purple before she drove it.
Neither of which he’d be suggesting to a woman who’d probably take her own shotgun down to meet Slick.
“What if there are?” she demanded. “Are you going to withdraw your offer? Keep blaming me for everything that goes wrong? Find a new campaign manager?”
He fought back the grin threatening to blossom, deciding yeah, he was just brave enough to see how far he could push her. “Don’t suppose I can buy you off with chocolate.”
“Chocolate. Is that the best you can do?” She rolled her eyes, puffed out her chest, and dropped her voice a few octaves. “Here, Maddie, have some generic chocolate gift to placate you so I don’t have to sleep with one eye open tonight. How about some generic flowers from the grocery store too? I hear they’re every woman’s favorite.”
Coughing to cover a laugh, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Okay, okay, you win.”
She snatched them from him. “Last time I’ll hear that,” she grumbled. She shut her door, then her hood, and beeped the car locked. Holding his keys in a death grip, she stalked past him.
He took a minute to enjoy the swing of her hips, then smothered his smile and adjusted his pants. This was going to be either the shortest or the longest fifteen minutes of his life.
Chapter Fifteen
How receptive are you to the idea of the Big Man (or Woman) in the Sky directing your life?
Pphhhhhhhttt.
It’s a spiritual partnership: The universe advises, I decide what I do.
God guides my every decision.
Believing in signs and recognizing them are two different things.
MADDIE SWUNG herself up into the driver’s seat of Trent’s truck. Excitement surged through her. She loved her car, but there was power in a big truck. Also power in being able to reach the gas and brake pedals, so she scooted the seat up, then took her time adjusting anything else she could think to adjust. The seat reclined a bit, and ooh, lumbar support. She could mess with that. Definitely had to move the mirrors. She’d change the radio station too.
Forget power in the truck. She wanted to have some power in whatever this screwed up relationship with him was.
He buckled into the passenger seat and sat silently while she made herself comfortable. She flashed him a smile full of mock innocence. “All set. Gee, I hope it won’t be hard for you to get it back the way you like it.”
He’d apologized. Again. And now he was letting her drive his truck. Maybe there was hope for him after all.
Not that she’d let up on pushing his buttons. She still didn’t entirely trust him.
He leaned across her and hit a switch on the door. While she tried not to inhale the clean scent of his hair or notice the way her breasts tightened where his arm brushed them—because he still wasn’t good enough material—the seat moved beneath her. Maddie squeaked out a surprised protest. Soon she couldn’t reach the pedals, the incline was wrong, and her lumbar support disappeared. She gawked at him. “What did you just do?”
“Memory seats. Ella wasn’t much taller than you. You gonna drive us back or what?”
Ella. So that’s who she was. Maddie rolled the fluffy name over in her mind, and decided it was a very good thing she hadn’t eaten. “I’m starting to think or what. You can be a real jerk, you know that?”
“Curse of being a man.”
Maddie got the seat right again and rolled the engine over. It purred to life like a tiger with a full belly, unlike Maddie, who’d developed a permanent twinge of nausea over her dating life. She reached over to mess with the radio and noticed a paper bag at his feet. “Is that from Ruby’s?” Maddie asked.
Trent nudged the bag with the toe of his sneaker. “Sacrifice to the election gods. Think if I burn it, they’ll let me out of the race?”
She shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the parking spot. Trent stiffened beside her. So her driving made him nervous. Excellent. “Doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”
“Because you don’t think I have a shot at winning.”
She shifted into drive and tested the gas pedal. The engine whined, then the truck inched forward. He was right. The truck was heavy in back. Not the same as driving tractors over at the Simpson farm all those summers ago, but she could handle it. She pointed the truck out of the parking lot. “Win, lose, run, don’t run. I really don’t care anymore.”
Her heart danced in her chest. She was playing a dangerous game and she knew it. But she was tired of dealing with Fake Trent, and he was either on his game today, or he’d finally found where he fit in, and neither option gave her much hope for her survival instincts. Her temper tantrum had apparently amused him, so apathy was the only weapon she had left.
If only she could convince herself she didn’t care.
Trent stayed quiet until they hit the edge of town and she coaxed the truck up to fifty-five. “So,” he said, “guess you weren’t expecting Abel.”
She gritted her teeth. “No.”
“You looked interested last week.”
How polite of him to notice. “I was having a bad day.”
