Chapter Seven
He found her, finally. Phoebe was perched on a stool in the record shop, massive headphones covering her ears, grinning across the vinyl stacks at fire chief Michael “If She’s Got a Rack, I’ve Got the Time” Cardona. The look Michael was giving Phoebe said he had all the time in the world. The man was his best friend, but that just meant John knew Michael couldn’t be trusted.
She slipped the headphones off laughing. “How have I never heard of ‘Baby’s Got Her Blue Jeans On’?”
“I heard Mel McDaniel’s voice in my head the second I saw you walking down the sidewalk,” Michael said with a slick wink.
John had seen enough. He wasn’t about to let Phoebe be devoured by the man who had taken two women to his senior prom.
They were still laughing, cozy as can be, as he walked up.
“We need to talk.” John had never in his entire life issued those words in that order.
Those wicked green eyes widened in surprise.
“Well if it isn’t my old friend John!” Michael’s enthusiastic reaction put his back up. His friend was hitting on his charge, the charge he’d chased off not an hour ago with his shitty attitude.
“Cardona,” John said coolly.
“It looks like fun the police are here,” Michael said in a mock whisper to Phoebe who grinned up at him like he was a fucking comedian.
Phoebe cleared her throat, refusing to look in John’s direction. “Thank you for the musical education, Michael.” She smiled prettily up at him.
Michael tipped his ball cap that sat on top of unruly blond hair. “The pleasure was all mine.”
“Give us a minute?” John asked Phoebe. She gave him a shrug of disinterest before wandering into the Pop section.
John waited until she was engrossed in a dig through the discount bin and gave Michael half a shove. “Leave her alone.”
Michael, affable as the day was long, just grinned. “Is she off-limits?”
“Way off-limits,” John warned him.
“Off-limits because you’re…” Michael prompted him.
“I’m in charge of her while she’s here,” John said, side-stepping the implication.
“If you’re not interested, then I’m not seeing a problem.” Michael enjoyed a challenge whether it was poured into a pair of hip-hugging jeans or it had two clenched fists like John did currently.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.”
“That’s right. You didn’t.” Michael grinned.
John thought about decking him and decided he didn’t want to deal with the blood and the whining.
Michael held up his hands in surrender. “Gotta say, I’m relieved, man. A guy names his pet cow after his high school girlfriend and his friends are bound to worry a bit.”
John’s muttered curse had Michael throwing his head back and laughing. “Don’t worry, dude. I’ll spread the word. Phoebe is off-limits, and John Pierce isn’t losing his damn mind.”
“Thanks, asshole,” John muttered.
“See you at the meeting?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“You bringing Phoebe?”
Taking a page out of his charge’s book, John tossed a middle finger over his shoulder as he stalked away.
Unfazed, Cardona whistled his way out of the store, and John set about making things right with Phoebe. He owed her an apology and an explanation. Neither of which would be easy.
She was listening to another song through headphones nearly the size of her head. The store owner, Linus Fitzsimmons, had given her a lollipop that she was enjoying with her music. She jumped when he laid a hand on her shoulder. With reluctance, Phoebe pulled off the headphones.
“I’m not apologizing,” she announced.
He blinked. “Okay.”
“Okay.” She nodded dismissively and made a move to put the headphones back on. But John yanked the plug out of the machine.
“Not done yet.”
“Three one-syllable words in a row. Is this some kind of record?”
He felt the corner of his eye twitch and pressed his fingers to the spot. “You drive me insane.”
“Back at you.” She crossed her arms, assuming a defensive position.
“I owe you an apology. I haven’t been welcoming or friendly or cooperative, and I’m sorry.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “I don’t want to leave. Not without getting what I came for.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
“If you want me gone, the only way to accomplish that is to cooperate.”
John scratched absently at the base of his neck. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that, too.”
“So, you’ll cooperate?” One eyebrow arched as if in challenge.
“I’ll do my best.” It was as close to a promise as he could make.
“What exactly annoys you about me so much?” she asked suddenly.
“A lot of things.”
She plucked the lollipop out of her mouth. “Gee, thanks.”
“I don’t mean it like that. You’re not annoying. Well, I mean you are. But I just wasn’t prepared to have my life interrupted by a woman who…”
“Drives you insane?” she supplied, slipping the candy between her pink lips.
“I like you.” He said the words quietly, but she caught them all the same.
She blinked. “I annoy you because you like me?”
Verbalizing was not his strong suit, and his frustration was rising. “You weren’t what I was expecting.”
“Do you think you’re what I was expecting? I thought I’d be spending the summer with some elderly man in coveralls who chewed on straw and said ‘yep’ a lot.”
“At least your expectation wasn’t that far off. I have coveralls somewhere.”
She gave him the tiniest smile, and the knot that had settled in his gut loosened. “I was expecting some young, eager grad student who I could dump shit jobs on and not worry about.” Not spend hours in bed laying there thinking about.
“I’m not that different from your expectations,” Phoebe argued. “I’m perfectly willing to do shit jobs. I just need you to talk to me.”
“You’re not hearing what I’m not saying,” John sighed.
“What are you not saying?”
“I’m attracted to you, and I don’t want to be.”
“Ohhhh.” She drew the word out, and he saw a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face. “That sounds like a problem.”
“I know you’re laughing at me,” John grumbled.
“Kind of hard not to. There are some men out there who don’t mind being attracted to a woman who shows up on their doorstep.”
“It’s not something I’m willing to act on.”
Like a dog with a bone, Phoebe dug in. “Why not? Hypothetically, if we were attracted to each other, what would be wrong with exploring those feelings?”
“Well, first of all, I don’t know that you feel the same attraction that I do. Me acting on my attraction without regard for your feelings is disrespectful.”
“Let’s just clear that matter up right now. I’m find you attractive as hell, John.”
He didn’t want his blood to pound through his veins like that in reaction to her confession. Didn’t want to feel that quiver of hope that swooped through his gut.
“Physically at least,” she clarified. “Your personality has yet to be determined.”
Hers had been determined from the first second she opened her mouth, he thought wryly. “We’re too different. I don’t like loud, opinionated women.”
“But you like me.”
“We’re opposites,” he said, grasping desperately for the words that would make her understand, make her shut up and leave it all alone. “You belong to Culture Club, and I haven’t been more than one state away from Blue Moon my entire life. You’re smart. I didn’t go to college. You’re funny. I think we can both agree that I’m not. And I’m responsible for you while you’re staying with me. I don’t want to get distracted from that.”
Now she looked genuinely confused. “Culture Club?”
“That shirt you wear. Culture Club.”
“‘Do you really want to hurt me?’”
John shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. “No. Of course I don’t want to hurt you. That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”
She was shaking her head. “It’s a song. By Culture Club, a band.”
Great. And now he looked like an idiot. “I’m not great with pop culture,” he mumbled.
Phoebe looked at him quietly and then slipped off her stool. She walked down the aisle away from him.
“Phoebe.” He followed her between the metal racks and bins of vinyl and cassettes. He wasn’t going to give up until this was settled. He’d been an ass before, and now he was fucking up his apology. If he could just write it out, deliver it that way, she’d at least understand.
She plucked a tape out of a bin and slapped it against his chest. “Consider it stage one of educating John.”
Culture Club Kissing to Be Clever.
“If I promise to listen to this and answer fifty percent of your incessant questions, can we start over?”
She gave him a smile that had his blood stirring. “I’d like that.”