Page 80 of Never Pucking Ending

Just like that, we move on. No judgement (or maybe limited judgement) and no drama. He doesn’t seem hurt, so the guilt melts away the more we talk about the bookshelves. He gives me a timeline for completion, I give him a deposit, and walk him to the door.

“We’re okay still?” I ask, holding it open for him and giving him a sheepish smile.

He returns it. “We’re good, Belle. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

That isn’t why I’m asking, but the reassurance is nice to hear. “I just want to make sure you’re happy. You’re an awesome guy.”

He doesn’t take compliments well either. “I appreciate that. And I’ll be okay. Things are…good.”

I wonder if he means with his ex, but it’s not my business to pry about it. “Good.”

I wave him off and watch as he gets in his truck parallel parked on the side of the street and drives off. A weight that’s been sitting on my shoulders slowly eases when I’m alone. If I can admit to a man I went on a couple dates with that I have feelings for Jesse, then I could admit it to Mom. To my stepdad. To other people.

I refuse to risk losing the one person, other than my mother, who’s been a constant in my life. Who had my back without question. Who only judges me lovingly but loves me regardless of weird habits or character traits.

I won’t lose Jesse out of fear.

With that newfound confidence, I gather up the last basket of homemade goodies, turn off the lights, and lock up the bookstore behind me.

It’s a short walk to Hardy’s Jewelers and I’m grateful that the sun it out to cut the chill still lingering in the late-March air. The jewelry store is open with only one customer looking at the glass display of pretty diamond rings. He looks lost in thought, like he’s searching for the perfect ring for his perfect somebody.

“Hello. Welcome to—” Karen cuts her greeting short, her sickening sweet tone fading when she sees me walk in. I can see her struggle to remain smiling, saving face for the man still walking along the case and examining the gold bands inside.

“Hi, Mrs. Hardy,” I greet, lifting the basket of scones and cinnamon muffins. “I brought you something. I’ve been baking a lot to figure out what I want to offer at the café.”

She frowns down at the basket that I place on the counter by the register. “I don’t eat gluten.”

“These are gluten free,” I assure her. “I’m trying to offer options for different dietary restrictions. Heidi over at the craft store mentioned that you have a gluten allergy, so I made sure to bring you things you can enjoy.”

She blinks slowly, staring at the items like I’ve sprinkled anthrax on them. “That is very…nice of you.” Skepticism is thick in her tone as she clears her throat. “But bringing me baked goods isn’t going to change my mind about you or your store.”

Is that what she thinks this is? “I’m not here to bribe you, Karen. I’m simply trying to be nice. Maybe forge some friendships. You know I’m new to the area. My family is close enough to visit, but I don’t have anybody in the immediate area to hang out with or talk to. I want to get along with everybody.”

The harrumph that comes from her makes even the man shopping for rings look over at us with interest. “If friendship is what you’re expecting, you are barking up the wrong tree.”

Internally, I sigh. I also call her a few choice names that wouldn’t be kind to say aloud. All while smiling at her. “That’s all right. I don’t expect anything. I just came to give you those and I hope you enjoy them.”

I back up and turn, noticing the ring that the man is looking at. “That one is really pretty,” I tell him.

Some of the nerves melt from his face. “She likes silver more than gold.”

I gesture toward one of the rings in the section over. “Then white gold is your best option, not the yellow. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” he calls out as I walk toward the door, “You too.”

I know I can’t force anybody to be my friend. I don’t want to, especially people like Karen who have a vendetta against me for no real reason. I’ll always be kind because it takes far more effort to be rude.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see the text from Jesse that I somehow missed earlier.

Jesse: Are you okay?

I can’t help but smile a little wider.

Me: Better than okay

It’s the truth. Sure, Karen doesn’t like me. But Dane didn’t tell me I’m disgusting for kissing Jesse, the bookstore is painted one of my favorite shades of yellow, and the sign for out front has been ordered. Good days aren’t always guaranteed, but they can be formed. I won’t let anybody ruin that inner peace.

Not even when I stop mid-step when I hear Karen call out, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how close you and that stepbrother of yours are. We don’t need any kind of bad press around us. I don’t care how much money he brings in playing for that ridiculous team. Trouble is trouble. And you two reek of it.”