Greg drove him a few minutes out of town on back roads, the conversation drying up to comfortable silence. Though Jake usually liked knowing where he was on a map, he was exhausted from the day and stared out the window rather than following the GPS on his phone. The landscape in East Texas looked way more like Louisiana or even the low country near Charleston, South Carolina: wild vegetation, swampy areas, and Spanish moss dangling from the trees. With the occasional Texas flair, of course. Most houses had Texas flags flying alongside or instead of the American flag and it seemed like every other pickup had a Don’t Mess with Texas bumper sticker.

The sun was getting low and Jake wished he had thought about dinner. The shop didn’t have a loaner car, so once he got to Shelby’s, he’d essentially be stuck. Maybe they had Lyft here? Doubtful. Maybe he could pay someone to use a secondary car or hire Matt to drive him around. If he wasn’t too upset still about Jake staying at Shelby’s.

Jake realized that he’d gotten used to what his money could buy. He didn’t think it had changed him that much. Memories of growing up poor didn’t seem so far off: eating ramen noodles by the package and cocktail sausages in a can. Picking out “new” school clothes at the Salvation Army because Goodwill was too expensive. Getting school supplies through local church drives.

The ghosts of those days clung to him in ways he didn’t want them to, coloring his decisions now. The idea of being stuck in a single place with no way of getting out made him feel panicky and claustrophobic. He realized in moments like this, when money couldn’t fix his problems, just how much he expected it to. It left him feeling slightly ashamed.

“Hey, Greg. You think anyone would let me pay to use their car for the week? Kind of an informal rental. Just so I’m not stuck. I mean, this is a little off the beaten path.”

Greg turned away from the road to give him a hard look, longer than anyone should look away from the road when behind the wheel. Jake felt sweat rising up under his collar.

“Don’t insult good people tossing your money around like that, boy. You could borrow a car from just about anyone in Lucky. If you asked nicely.”

“Oh, but—”

“No buts. I think Matt might let you borrow his old Jeep. He prefers the truck. I mean, who wouldn’t? But you could ask him.”

“Do you have his number?”

Jake punched the number in his phone as Greg recited it from memory. No one knew phone numbers by heart anymore. He realized as he saved the new contact that they’d turned onto a gravel road. Driveway, he corrected himself. He could see the lake at the end of the drive, lit up with sunset, just like the picture. Live oak trees stretched their hands over the road forming a shadowed tunnel. It was stunning.

It was the kind of driveway that seemed like it would lead to a white-columned plantation home, so Jake was surprised to see a squat house, hardly bigger than the Airstream trailer that sat across the yard from it. Like the whole town, the property looked like it needed a new coat of paint and a good handyman.

Greg pulled around the gravel drive to the front and idled while Jake got his bags from the back seat. “Best of luck to you,” Greg said, and winked. Then he drove away, leaving Jake standing in front of the house.

Shelby had messaged him through the app to say that he should knock on the front door and she’d get him settled in. Jake had stayed at his fair share of home shares like this. Some were totally seamless and some were completely awkward. If he had to guess, this place was going to be more of the second. Taking a breath, he knocked.

Almost immediately, the door flung open to reveal a tiny, beautiful woman with her light-brown hair in a single braid. She wore cutoff jean shorts and a bright blue tank top. Her feet were bare. And just the sight of her made Jake’s heart pick up the pace to a frantic level. He opened his mouth, but had no words.

He was used to seeing beautiful women at the events that Xander made him attend. Women in formal evening wear and flawless makeup, all looking like clones created in a lab, emerging with a complete set of social graces and the nose of a bloodhound when it came to money. Unlike Xan, who liked to have a different society woman on his arm every week, Jake never felt the pull of attraction to that polished type of woman.

Shelby was the opposite of that. But even without a trace of makeup on her face, she was stunning. Her light brown eyes had a spark to them, lighting them up from inside. Jake’s eyes glanced over the spray of freckles that dusted her cheeks and his gaze stopped on her lips, starting to turn up in a smile. The pull toward her was so immediate that a blush rose in his cheeks. He didn’t have the pale complexion of most redheads, but still blushed at the drop of a hat.

Then she smiled. Her grin looked more like the smile carved on a Jack O’Lantern, completely forced and a little terrifying. Jake stepped back without meaning to. It was startling and looked unnatural.

“Hello and welcome,” she said in a stilted voice, waving an arm to the side like a game show hostess. “Welcome to Sunset Lake. You have arrived at the best time—sunset.”

Jake simply stared. Was she joking around? He thought this had to be some kind of prank, but she pressed on.

“You’ll find yourself at home in the Airstream trailer and you can sit along the dock by the lake to enjoy our lovely weather—” Abruptly she dropped her game show hostess arm and pulled her head to one side, cracking her neck. “I can’t do this. Just ain’t me. Come in. I’m Shelby.”

She held out a hand and after a moment’s hesitation, Jake shook it. Her hand all but disappeared in his and the feel of her soft skin against his palm got his heart hammering again.

“Um,” was all he could say.

“Sorry about that,” she said, stepping back into the house. Her voice had dropped an octave and fallen into the twangy accent that he’d been hearing all day. It sounded better on her, almost melodic. “I’m trying to get my ratings up as a host, so I thought I’d work on a formal welcome and delivery. But I think I need to stick to my strengths. Because you look terrified. I won’t bite. Get off the porch and come in a spell. Daddy, you’re decent, right?”

“Don’t you start questioning my decency, darling,” a man’s voice called out from further in the house.

Jake stepped inside, but Shelby didn’t move. They stood toe to toe in the front hallway, which was about the size of a closet. It was as though she’d forgotten what to do next. She blinked up at him. She had a button nose with a few freckles across the bridge to match the ones on her cheeks. He stared into her golden-brown eyes, blinking up at him with long, dark lashes. What was she waiting for?

Something hung in the air between them and Jake fought for words to say. He didn’t know how to handle the stirring of attraction he felt standing so close to Shelby. After his last girlfriend Hannah, he’d avoided relationships. If he didn’t give himself too much free time to think about it, he didn’t mind being single. Solitary was safe. The twang of his nerves as he looked at Shelby was anything but safe.

When she reached up and touched his hair, standing on her tiptoes to reach, he was so startled that he froze, forgetting even to breathe.

“It’s red,” she said, brushing a hand lightly through the side of his hair. Her palm brushed his ear and it sent a current through him. “I’ve always been partial to redheads. Maybe because they’re so rare. The unicorns of the hair world.”

Jake felt a blush that went all the way to the roots of his hair. The hair she was still touching. As if realizing this touch was too intimate for a stranger, she pulled her hand away and gave him a sheepish grin.

“Redheads make up only 2% of the population, did you know that? It’s recessive, so both of your parents had to have carried the gene. Are you left-handed? That’s common too. And blue eyes are rare—yep. Yours are brown. A nice brown, too. Handsome.”

Shelby didn’t slow down and with her drawl, he felt like he only caught what she said a few seconds after she said it. It took him a moment to realize the compliment, maybe also because she said it the same way you might say that you liked a T-shirt or a pair of shoes. Jake couldn’t speak to save his life.

“Shelby!” her father called from the other room. “Save your words, girl! Let the poor boy into the house. You’ll scare him off before he even sees the inside of the Airstream!”

“Shut up, Daddy,” she called sweetly, still not moving. Then to Jake, she said, “Sorry, I’m just nervous. I talk a lot anyway, but when I’m nervous that’s all I do. Talk, talk, talk. My Daddy tells me to save my words because he says that we have a finite number and I’m set to use all mine up before I’m thirty. This is my first time hosting. I mean, obviously, right? I didn’t need to say that. Don’t put that in my review, okay? I think saying that I’m enthusiastic and honest sounds better, right?”

“Right,” Jake said.

“You still haven’t moved, girl. Get on,” her father called.

Shelby giggled and the sound sent a thrill through him. Jake was glad that she turned to walk through the doorway so she didn’t see the big grin that stretched across his face at the sound.

The living room was much brighter than the hallway and featured a few mismatched pieces of furniture and a TV blasting Wheel of Fortune. Everything looked worn and maybe from a decade or two ago, but the place was immaculate. It reminded him of his childhood home. It hadn’t been nice, but his mother cleaned within an inch of her life to keep it sparkling, shiny, and dust-bunny-free.

“Daddy!” Shelby shouted. Jake was so startled he dropped his duffle bag. “Put your leg on!”

Leg? Jake stared over at the mostly balding man who sat in a recliner. Sure enough—in front of his ample belly sat a prosthetic leg.

Jake knew very little about prosthetics, but this one looked cheap. It was flesh-colored but could not possibly be mistaken for an actual leg. The foot was outfitted with a white tube sock and a tennis shoe. Jake’s eyes moved down, where he saw one leg on the floor and the other leg hole of his shorts empty.

“I’ve got pants on!” he shouted back. “What more do you want from me, girl?”

Shelby grabbed the leg and poked him in the belly with it. “We have company! Put your leg on!”

Jake had no idea what was happening. He didn’t understand half the words coming out of this spitfire’s mouth. She was still jabbing her father with the prosthetic leg. He wanted to laugh but held it in for fear she’d turn on him with the leg. Plus he didn’t know if he should be laughing. They seemed to be fighting. Was this normal? Was this a Texas thing? Was he on some kind of hidden camera reality show?

“Give me that!” the man shouted. He grabbed the leg from her, but instead of putting it back on, he pointed it at Jake. “You don’t mind, do you? I’ve read about this. Millennials are open-minded. This fine young man won’t judge me if I don’t put my leg on. Will you?”

“Um…” Since the door to this house had opened and he laid eyes on Shelby, the power of speech had failed Jake.

Shelby bowed her head and whispered. “My reviews.” Then, head back up and voice honey-sweet, said, “Daddy, will you please put on your leg? I would so greatly appreciate your cooperation in this matter.”

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” the man said, bending forward with the leg. Jake looked around the room, like watching someone put on their prosthesis was like watching them change clothes. It seemed to call for privacy.

“I’m Bill Boyce,” the man said, standing now on both legs and holding out a hand to Jake.

“Jake,” he said.

“You got a last name, son?”

Jake rarely used his last name unless necessary, just in case people knew him by reputation. Unlikely here, but it was habit to hold back. When he stayed in hotels he often made the reservation in a full fake name, typically one from a book. But with people he had to talk to, he just cloaked the last name. No one usually recognized the characters. “Black. Jake Black.”

Shelby snorted. “Short for Jacob? Like Jacob Black from the Twilight books?”

Busted. “Um, yeah.”

“As long as you keep your clothes on,” she said. “If I find you shirtless in a pair of cutoff jeans, I’m going straight for the silver bullets. Is that actually your name? Because that kind of sucks.”

“Better than Jacob Marley,” he said. He didn’t know why he threw in the Dickens reference. Maybe because he hadn’t expected her to get the Twilight one. That was embarrassing.

“Huh. Raising me a Dickens for a Meyer.” She narrowed her eyes at him, then held out a hand. “Come here. I think I have something you should see.”

He stared at her hand so long that she shook it at him and when he still didn’t move, she grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the hallway. His body again reacted to her touch with heat in his cheeks, butterflies dive-bombing his stomach, and a goofy smile on his face. The last time he felt this kind of out of control crush was when he was a middle schooler crushing on the girl next door. Who didn’t know he was alive.

Part of him thought to be wary. Because so far walking into this house was like walking into some kind of Twilight Zone. But wherever Shelby was taking him, it was worth it to hold her hand.

Shelby paused outside a closed door down the short hallway. She looked up at him, as though trying to read his face, then opened the door. She did not go in, but dropped his hand and held hers out, inviting him to step inside.

Every wall from floor to ceiling held books. The shelves were cheap and poorly constructed, but clearly had been custom-made for the room. Aside from the shelves, the small room held only two mismatched armchairs and an ottoman between them.

Jake stepped inside and she followed him. He could feel her looking at him as he looked at her. It made him think of Layla and how he loved to watch people admiring her.

“This is incredible. Did your Dad build these?”

“Daddy doesn’t know the difference between a hammer and an Allen wrench. Matt did it. I heard you met him and Slim today?”

Matt. Jake had forgotten all about him. Greg said that Shelby was his girl. Now that Jake had met her, he completely understood Matt’s reaction to him staying here.

“Yeah, he gave me a ride earlier when my car broke down. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

“Matt? No. More like a protective older brother.”

“That’s not the vibe I got from him. Not brotherly at all.”

Shelby sighed. “He’d like it to be more than brotherly. But that’s how it is with us.”

Shelby said the words with a finality that made Jake’s chest soar. Not that he should care. It’s not like he was going to stick around Lucky. He couldn’t fall for Shelby. But his heart seemed to be in disagreement with his head over this.

He walked toward a shelf, trying to distract himself from the sweet smell of her perfume. Scanning the shelves, he looked for how she had them arranged.

“Alphabetical, but sort of by century,” she said, as though she could hear his thoughts.

“Better than by color,” he said.

“Right? Who does that? Gross.”

It was weird, but this room somehow made Shelby even more attractive to him. She’d made a literary joke—okay, so the Twilight books weren’t literary, but still books—and picked up on his Christmas Carol reference. This was the last thing he would have expected from her. Of course, he’d known her for all of five minutes.

“What’s your favorite section?” he asked. “Or do you have one?”

“That’s tough. I collect a lot. I mean, I haven’t read all these. Mostly I like contemporary stuff. But also Shakespeare. The man had humor.”

“People sometimes miss that. They’re so busy revering him and all.” Shelby gave him a long look. “What?” he said.

She shook her head. “It’s just…no one here wants to talk books. This is new. I like it.”

“No one talks books with me either,” he said. “Or movies. I like both equally.”

And it wasn’t something he had minded or realized he was missing until just now. Jake could see himself sitting in one of the armchairs across from Shelby, their feet together on the ottoman, drinking coffee and talking about their favorite books. He could also imagine her here as a girl, curled up in a chair with a stack of books beside her, nose buried in one.

“Did you spend a lot of time in here growing up?” he asked.

“That obvious, huh? Yeah. I’m kind of a nerd.” Nerd was the last word he would have used to describe her. “The shelves are more recent. Matt put them up a few years back. Before that I had some mismatched shelves and mostly just stacks. Stacks and stacks of books. I knew where every single one was, but this is much better.”

“What are your favorites?” she said. “Plural because obviously more than one.”

“Obviously. Well, if I had to narrow it down East of Eden and Franny and Zooey.”

She leaned back against one of the shelves and he tried not to notice how cute she looked talking books with him. “Interesting. Kind of a highbrow taste for someone using a fake name that comes from werewolf in a YA series.”

“Shape shifter.”

“What?”

“Technically, according to the legends, Jacob and the others were different than traditional werewolves. They were shape shifters.”

He grinned as her mouth dropped open. “Maybe your taste isn’t so snobby after all.”

“I like literature, but I also like crime novels and thrillers. Your turn. What are your favorites?”

“Tough call. I change. But I’d have to say Pride and Prejudice…and IT.”

He scrunched up his face. “What? Like, Stephen King IT?” He studied her, trying to picture that. Ever since she had opened the door he felt like new surprises kept unfolding. He was used to reading people and situations. Shelby was a complete mystery. It thrilled him that he couldn’t pin her down. Somehow it made her even more attractive.

“I know. Weird pairing. But the book is incredible. Just totally underrated. It’s like coming of age and good versus evil in a cosmic way and growing up in a small town—I think that’s the part that I most identify with. What?”

“Nothing. You just…I’m still trying to wrap my brain around you identifying with IT.”

“Have you read it?”

“No.”

She pushed past him to a shelf and again, his whole body reacted to the brush of her shoulder against his arm. She pulled a giant black book off the shelf and smacked it into his chest. It was substantial. “Here. Something to do while you’re here.”

He looked at the cover of the book. He didn’t really do scary. “Uh…I don’t think I’m going to read this.”

“Don’t be a baby. If you get scared, you can come wake me up. We’ve got Daddy’s shotgun and my pistol—”

“You’ve got a pistol?”

She just rolled her eyes and kept on going. “—and Daddy’s leg, which is almost as good as a baseball bat. Better, because it’s creepier and unexpected. And we do have baseball bats too. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. Totally, totally safe.” His mind had gotten lost imagining first waking Shelby up at night and then seeing her with a pistol in hand. He tried to shut down the goofy grin he knew was taking over his face.

“What?” She stood looking up at him with her hands on her hips. She was at least a foot shorter than him and even that was adorable.

“I’m just trying to picture you fighting off a pack of zombies with a prosthetic leg. It’s quite a mental image.”

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Now come on and I’ll show you to your room. Feel free to come in here anytime. Though I only allow one borrow at a time and think IT will keep you occupied.”

“I’m probably not going to read it,” he said, but he tucked the book under his arm anyway, following behind her through the living room where he grabbed his bag. Her father still had his leg on and didn’t seem to see them as they passed through the kitchen and a back door.

The sun had gone down and the night insects were alive and loud in the darkness, the kind of rich sound you could almost feel on your skin. The trailer had a cheerful string of lights that hung from its roof to a nearby tree. A picnic table sat under them in the grass.

“You should look up,” Shelby called over her shoulder.

Normally Jake would have asked why before lifting his head but in the last half-hour, he’d stopped asking that question. He lifted his head to see a spray of stars punctuating the velvety deep black of the sky. He stopped walking so he could just look. Living near Chicago most of his life, he’d never seen the sky with so little light pollution. It looked almost otherworldly.

Jake realized after a moment that Shelby stood watching him. “Wow,” he said.

“I thought maybe this would be new. Though I don’t know where you’re from. You just strike me as a city boy.”

“Do I?” he said, joining her in front of the Airstream.

“Am I wrong?”

“Dead right. I’m from Chicago.”

“I’ve always wanted to try the pizza,” she said. “Is it really as good as they say? I feel like I’d prefer New York Style.”

“If you have the right kind of Chicago deep dish, you’ll change your mind. Don’t get me wrong—I appreciate a good New York Pizza. They just don’t compare. You’ll have to look me up if you’re ever in Chicago. I’ll take you to the best place. You won’t ever see pizza the same way again.”

He hadn’t planned to extend the invitation—the words just came out. Shelby was rubbing off on him. He saw a flash of white across the yard, a smile. “Did you just ask me on a date?”

Before he could think of an answer, Shelby opened the door to the Airstream and stepped inside.

He followed her inside. There was a kitchen area just in front of them, two cushioned benches on either side of a small table to the right, and then a bed to the left next to closed doors that probably led to the bathroom. Inside was smaller even than he would have imagined and he and Shelby were practically standing on top of each other. She backed away, leaning against the kitchen counter in front of him.

“The trailer is pretty self-explanatory. There are a few things in the fridge and basic toiletries in the shower just in case. The water temperature in the sink can be a bit fussy but the shower’s okay.”

She looked him up and down and the blush started again moving from his chest to his face. If she noticed, she didn’t mention it. “You’re tall. This shower might be a stretch for you.” She giggled. “I’m not actually sure your head will go under it. Let’s try it.”

“You want me to shower?”

She shoved his arm playfully. He fought the urge to grab her and pull her close. “No, dummy. Just stand in it. I need to see if you can even fit.”

“I can check later.”

She gave him another shove toward the door to the bathroom. He could see that she was going to keep fighting him and honestly, he didn’t mind spending more time with her, even if he felt silly as he climbed into the tiny shower space.

He had to duck to stand upright, which meant that his body was touching the shower wall. And still the showerhead was no higher than his chin. Her giggles turned into full-on laughter. He loved the uninhibited sound of her laugh.

“This is fine,” he said, grinning. “As long as I don’t need to wash my hair or face for a few days. You won’t mind the smell. Probably.”

She wiped her eyes and he unfolded himself from the tiny space. “Get out of there before you pull a muscle. You can shower inside. We’ve got one bathroom, but it’s clean. Just come on in when you need it. Don’t mind Daddy. He’s a perfect gentleman to everyone. Well. Except to any would-be suitors. The only one of them he likes is Matt, which is too bad since—I’m sorry. I’m doing it again. Too many words.”

He had followed her back out to the main part of the Airstream while she babbled, coming to rest with his hips against the tiny kitchen sink. Crossing his arms, he watched her, feeling a smile twitch at his lips.

“I don’t mind hearing you talk,” he said.

The words seemed to carry more weight to them than what he meant, though maybe it was his subconscious talking. Because he felt like he could listen to her talk all day.

For a moment they stood looking at each other. She pulled the end of her braid up to her lips and chewed on the end. The motion drew his eyes down to her lips and Jake found himself staring. When he looked back up at her eyes, she had an expression he couldn’t read. He wanted to find something to say, to get her to stay there, to keep talking to him, but he couldn’t find any words. She spoke first, breaking the charged energy between them.

“I like you Jacob Black. Even if you are a little bit of a liar.”

He was blushing. Again. Maybe she wouldn’t notice because his permanent color around her seemed to be red. “Only about my name.”

“So why the fake name? You famous or something?”

Only in certain circles. Obviously and thankfully not the ones she traveled in. “I always travel incognito. It’s a habit.”

“Well, I don’t care about the little lies. As long as there aren’t any big ones.”

Jake swallowed. Just the lie about who he really was and why he was here. Was an omission the same thing as a lie? “Noted.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Shelby said. “Breakfast is around 7:30 or 8am tomorrow in the house if you want to join us. You don’t have to eat with us.”

“I’d like to,” he said.

She smiled. “Okay. Night, Jake.”

“Good night, Shelby.”

She hesitated before the door, and he felt an overwhelming urge to take one big step across the trailer and hug her goodnight. But that would be totally weird for someone he just met. He hated for her to leave, but feeling like a typical guy, he liked watching her go. He’d never seen a girl look so good in cutoffs.

Before she was gone even five minutes, he missed her. Greg better get those parts fast for Layla or Jake might have trouble leaving Lucky at all.