I have been living in White Creek for two weeks. Yes, I just said living. I finally got used to it. The small town vibe was helping clear my head of all the shit that was filling it. I knew a few of the regulars at the diner by name. I also ate dinner with Trace and Ivy a couple times a week. Ivy said it was good for me to interact with other people. I told her I do it every day I work at the diner. She just stared at me and then told me to go seat the table that just walked in.

Luckily in the last two weeks, I had almost zero interactions with Easton. We saw each other a few times, but there was no flirting at all. I was glad he finally got over it. Maybe he thought I would be in and out of town faster than I was and didn’t want to start anything with someone who was sticking around. But none of that mattered because he was the last thing I needed. And not just him but love. At this point, I am sure I’m swearing off it for good.

Ten minutes before I need to open the door of the diner, my cell rings. I fish it out of a pocket of my purse and see it’s my dad calling. I haven’t talked to my parents in over a week and I am hoping they have some good news for me.

“Hi, Daddy!” I answer.

“Hello, sweetheart. How are you doing? I hope I’m not calling too early.”

I pull out a chair at one of the tables and sit down. “No, you’re fine. It’s about seven and I was just getting ready to open the diner.”

“Oh well then I won’t keep you long if you have to work. You sound happy. Are you happy?”

I sigh into the phone. “I’m getting there, Dad. I’m nowhere near a hundred percent. Hell, I am not even at fifty percent but some days are better than others.”

“Good sweetheart. Improvement is good.”

“How’s your trip going?”

“It’s fantastic. We’re in Paris now. We’re headed home tomorrow. I really would like to sleep in my own bed.” I hear him say something I can only presume is to my mother and then hear the sound of footsteps. “I need a break from your mother,” he whispers into the phone.

I hear her yell something about hearing him over the phone. The sound of a door shutting is heard, the soft murmur of traffic and people is in the background. “I had to step outside so your mother wouldn’t hear. I can’t wait ‘til her calendar is filled with social events so I can tolerate her more.”

I laugh into the phone and glance at the clock. Five more minutes is all I can spare. “So, what’s up Dad?

“I wanted to let you know I’ve talked to your mother a lot about the money and helping you out and she won’t budge. I even tried when she was drunk, and she was relentless. I don’t understand why she is so upset about your marriage.”

“Dad do we really have to talk about this?” I groan.

“No, we don’t. That was why I stepped outside. I just transferred over some money to you.” I squeal on the inside. “It won’t be enough to cover everything, but I hope it will help. I sent over three thousand.”

“Dad that is more than enough. It’s pretty cheap to live around here and I haven’t been attending many social activities.” Okay, none. “And I am working enough to save a good chunk of money.”

“I know you’re working hard honey and I am very proud of you. Not everyone can do what you’re doing.” I hear the door open in the background and hope it’s because my father decided to go back inside. But I hear a rustle like the phone is being grabbed from him.

“Harper, honey, how are you?” My mom has the fakest sounding voice and I know she’s about to lay into me. I look at the clock on the wall and it’s already a few minutes past seven. Trace and Ivy went out of town for the weekend and Ivy entrusted me with running the diner for the next three days.

“I’m great Mom, but I really need to go.”

“Not so fast Harper. Why don’t I get to talk to you? You talked to your father,” she says sharply.

“I know Mom, but it isn’t a good time. I have to open the diner.” Shit. I told my mom I was working, but I didn’t tell her I succumbed to working at a diner. She thought I was doing something intellectual, not service work.

“Diner? What do you mean you have to open the diner?”

I guess that means Dad kept my secret on that front. “A diner. You know one of those quick service food places that people eat at sometimes.”

“Don’t get sarcastic with me Harper. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I thought maybe you found an office job or something for the time being. You know so you could make real money to fix your car.”

This woman pisses me off. I look at the clock. It is now 7:07 and a few people are standing outside. I look at Luke who is walking out of the kitchen tapping his watch. I point to the phone and he points to the door.

Duh, I see the people, Luke.

“Mom, there are approximately eight hundred forty-two people who live in this town, well eight hundred forty-three if you include me, there aren’t exactly options for office jobs. But seriously, I need to go I have a line of people outside that want breakfast.”

I try to hang up the phone on her, but she just continues. “You are ruining your reputation, Harper. What man is going to want you once they find out you’ve been slumming it in some redneck town and working at a grease filled diner?”

Oh, now she’s done it. I swear smoke was pouring out of my ears at this point. One of the Sergeants knock on the door and Luke walks over to open it, gesturing for me to hang up. “I can’t believe you. I don’t care about my reputation because as you put it ‘I’m slumming it.’ I live in a two-bedroom house. I’ve made friends. I have a job and people who rely on me. You were the one who told me to stay here and have an adventure. So that is what I am doing. Having a fucking adventure. I hope when all your friends find out what I have been doing the last few weeks and how you wouldn’t help out your own flesh and blood it tarnishes your reputation.” Before I let her answer, I slam the phone on the table, cracking the screen. “Fuck my life!” I scream.

Luke looks at me. “You done?” I nod, and he opens the door.

I was looking forward to today. I was hoping I was really going to be able to prove that I could run the diner without Ivy. But that phone call led from one bad thing into a landslide, literally.

First, the Sergeants would not stop complaining for the two hours they were sitting inside the diner because I opened ten minutes late. Luke was nice enough to tell me it’s happened many times before and not to worry about it, but I let it bother me. At one point he offered to go into Sawyer’s and get me a shot of whiskey for my coffee, but I just looked at him like he was crazy and walked away. In hindsight, I probably should have done just that.

Around nine-thirty in the morning a mother and her three children came in for breakfast. Two children kept fighting with each other, a brother and sister who looked to be about five and six. The boy kept pulling on his sister’s curls and she kept yelling at him to stop. The mother tried to stop the feud, but then her year-old baby started wailing at the top of his lungs. I was grateful the Sergeants just left because I’m sure they would have complained about the family. The mother finally got the kids all to calm down when I brought the food out. But, just as I went to walk away, the girl threw food at her brother which landed on a customer’s table behind them. I walked over to the other table to apologize, but they got angry and walked out. The mother apologized to me and asked for some extra napkins. When I returned with them, the baby thought it would be funny to play with his food as well and I ended up covered in syrup and ketchup. Why the baby had both things, I don’t know. Luke must have noticed the commotion because he came running out from the kitchen to help me with the mess that made it all over the floor. Eventually the woman and her screaming children left, thankfully she left me a good tip.

As the morning rush finally died down, I attempted to clean the syrup and ketchup off my white t-shirt to no avail. It was a great day to wear a white t-shirt. Luckily, I had my hair in a ponytail so it avoided the syrupy mess. I made it almost the entire way through lunch without an incident until I slipped on water that spilled on the floor by the drink station and fell right onto my left hip bone. By the time three o’clock rolled around, I was more than happy to close the door. Luke helped me clean up the tables, so I didn’t have to stay much past closing time. I grabbed my purse, thankful I could leave, when a huge boom of thunder sounded outside.

Great. Now, I am wearing a white shirt and have no umbrella.

It starts to downpour immediately, so I make a mad dash to the car. My shirt and shorts are soaked through when I get into the safety of my car. I drive home thinking about taking a long hot bath despite the hundred degree temperatures outside. Today was rough and a bath sounds like the medicine I need. I get to the hill by my house and turn to go up. I make it about twenty feet before my tires start spinning and I reverse while hitting the gas.

“What the fuck?” I shout to no one. I roll back about ten feet and stop. I hit the gas but to no avail. The tires just turn over in the mud. I open the door and notice I’m stuck in about six inches of thick goopy mud. I step out of the car and sink into it. I decide there is no way I am going to get out of this by pushing so I decide to wait out the rain. I would walk up the hill, but I don’t think my legs would make it very far in the mud.

I sit back in the car, soaking wet, covered in ketchup and syrup, with mud up to my ankles. What did I do to deserve this? I can’t even call Ivy or Trace because they’re gone, and my stupid phone is broken. I collapse over the armrest in the middle of the car and rest my head on the other seat. I stare out the passenger window watching the rain drown out the sky.

I nearly fly out of my seat when I see a face with a cowboy hat in the passenger window. Then I realize it’s Easton. Thank God I am saved! I sit up and roll down the window.

“Looks to me like you got stuck out here in this mud, sweet cheeks.”

Thank you Captain Obvious. “Actually I just thought it was a great time for a nap.”

“Sure is a shitty place to take a nap,” he retorts.

I roll my eyes at him. “Can you help me?”

He walks around my car looking at the tires. He opens the driver’s side door. “I don’t have my tow hitch on this truck, so I can’t pull you out. We can try to push you out but I think you’re too deep and we’d both just end up covered in mud.”

I look at him waiting for some other type of answer to my dilemma. He replies, “You can leave it here. Ain’t no one gonna take it.”

“Can we at least try to move it?”

“Suit yourself.” Rain pours off his hat soaking his shirt and pants that I just now noticed were extremely tight. “Just put the car in drive and slowly hit the gas while I push.”

I do as he says but realize a little too late I forgot to shut the front door and spray mud into the car and all over myself.

I hear him chuckling as he walks around to the door. “Works better if you shut the door first.”

I glare at him and then notice he’s also covered in mud. “Maybe we should just leave the car here,” I concede.

He smirks and offers me his hand as I get out of the car. I sink even farther into the mud than before and feel like I am waddling around. I walk over to the passenger side of his truck and go to climb in when I feel his hands on my hips. I glance over my shoulder at him.

“You had trouble getting up there last time and you didn’t have a ton of mud weighing your feet down then.”

I just nod and let him help me into the truck. He climbs in on the other side and makes his way up the hill. I can’t help stealing glances at him. He really is a sexy man and that cowboy hat he has on is like the cherry on top of a sundae. It makes his defined jaw pop even more and the five o’clock shadow he is sporting makes my mouth water.

“I told you, you should get a truck.” He glances over at me. I just nod in agreement, embarrassed he might have caught me staring.

We pull into the driveway of my house and he jumps out of the truck before I even have the door open. He helps me out of the cab and walks me to my front door. “Thanks for helping me out down there.”

“Anytime darlin’. You really should get a truck, though. That hill does not like cars when it rains.”

I realize how close he is standing to me. I’m trying to make myself believe it’s just so we both fit under the awning to avoid the rain but I am ninety percent sure that is not why. “What would I do with a truck when I leave here?”

He grimaces like he doesn’t want to face the fact I’m not going to become a permanent resident of White Creek. “You know people do drive trucks in Florida.”

I’m surprised he remembered where I was going. “I just don’t see myself with a truck.”

He sighs, “SUV then. You need something to climb that hill. Although you don’t know what kind of fun you could have in a truck.” He winks at me.

“For fuck’s sake stop with the sexual innuendos!” I scream.

Easton steps closer to me backing me up against my front door, enclosing me within his arms. “I wasn’t talking about your truck bed fantasy, sweet cheeks. Although that could be arranged.”

My face turns red and my knees weaken. This man has too much power over my emotions. I push at his solid chest hard enough to make him take a step back, “I will not be anywhere near a truck bed with you. Now leave me alone so I can clean up.”

He takes a step back, the smile still holding smugly across his face. “You sure you don’t want to invite me in?”

“Positive.” A loud clap of thunder rings overhead causing me to jump.

“You won’t say no next time,” he says as he turns around and walks to his truck. I am so glad I got out of that situation because if he kept his game up, I might have succumbed to my weaknesses.

I unlock the front door and turn on the light switch, but nothing happens. I flip it on and off twice.

Nothing.

Fuck me. The storm must have blown out the power and I have no idea how to use the generator Ivy said was in the back.

I walk outside and see Easton jumping into his truck. God help me for having to do this.

“Wait!” I yell.

He just sits in the truck staring at me. I let loose a string of curse words and run back out into the rain. “My power’s out and I don’t know how to use the generator. Can you help me?”

“You invitin’ me in?” He grins.

“No.” I stand my ground. “I’m asking you to turn on the generator. In the backyard. That involves no entering of the premises.”

He jumps out of the truck and walks toward the house not even acknowledging what I said. Then he goes and walks right in the front door! I run after him shouting, “Hey I didn’t say you could-“

“Well, I’m already inside.” He spreads his arms out in a gesture.

“Whatever,” I mumble.

He looks at me with an air of accomplishment in his eyes. “Ivy’s had me turn it on for her a few times. I know where it’s at.” He is about to head toward the back door when he asks, “Why do you smell like syrup and look like someone tried to stab you?”

“Another fun day at the office.” I glance at myself in the mirror in the foyer and embarrassment takes over. My hair is a rat’s nest. I have mascara dripping down my face and ketchup that is half rinsed out is splattered across my chest. I look down and see my muddy feet. I am a mess. I pull my shoes off and throw them out the front door not wanting to track mud through the house. I look at Easton and see his are just as bad. “Shoes.” I point toward his feet.

He looks down and says, “But I gotta go turn the generator on.”

“Then go around the side of the house to get to the back.”

He stomps his muddy feet over to me ensuring clumps of mud fall all over the floor. “You have syrup in your hair.” He brushes a finger through my hair that remains sticky despite the rain.

“I know.”

“And ketchup on your shirt.” He runs his finger down my chest and sends shivers through me.

“You are very observant.”

His fingers reach the waistband of my shorts and just when I think he is about to say something else, he walks out the front door and leaves me with an unwanted feeling of need.

A few minutes later the lights come on. Easton walks back around to the front of the house. I am about to thank him when he leans down close to me, his hair is wet from the rain and is dripping down my neck and shoulder, he whispers into my ear, “Next time you’ll be inviting me in.” His breath is warm against my ear and it nearly makes me melt. I close my eyes and hold in a whimper. Coldness meets my chest and when I open my eyes, he’s already back in his truck and pulling away.

I’m going to need a cold shower.