“All full?” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning.
“I have to admit it’s the first time I’ve had a Spam breakfast burrito with a Coke. It might grow on me.”
“You’re disgusting.” I faked a gag.
“Maybe you should try it. You seem crankier than I remember. Maybe a change of diet would do you good.”
He reached over and ruffled my beach waves I’d worked so hard on that morning. (I didn’t want to stop and examine why I’d been so obsessed with my appearance this morning.) Old reflexes kicked in, and I reached over to smack his stomach. “Don’t touch my hair.”
An engine purred quietly behind us, and I tugged Nate to the side of the street so that he wouldn’t become a permanent speed bump in the trailer park. A shiny black SUV with dark-tinted windows drove by.
“Who’s that?”
“We all call him Gunrunner Gabe.”
Nate stopped and turned to face me. “Are you serious?”
“Yes?”
“He’s a gun runner? Why don’t you report him to the police?”
A motorcycle revved and then stopped next to the SUV at the corner. Johnny, who was driving the motorcycle, took off his helmet and started chatting with Gabe.
“Well, it seems pointless to report him to the police when he already knows them so well.”
Nate cleared his throat. “Remember that time you came home high from the dentist? And you made no sense?”
“Yes...” I remembered that instance clearly—or unclearly, as it were. Nate had been surprisingly sweet, delivering me frozen yogurt while I lay on the couch. Sharon and Rob had given me permission to stay over at the Mercier’s house after I’d had my wisdom teeth pulled. I thought Nate had finally matured and was being thoughtful. Turned out that he recorded an entire conversation of me talking about sharks that live in trees, all with a numb mouth. He probably still had that video somewhere.
“You’re making that much sense right now.” He pointed at the car. “What is going on there? Should I be worried about your safety?”
“Not too worried. Gabe’s nice, and he hands out great Christmas baskets every year. Johnny, the man on the motorcycle who just drove by after him, is an undercover cop.” I walked a little faster, hoping I could get around the corner fast enough for him to meet Nascar Jim.
“Kristin lives there with her kids.” I pointed to a house down a side street. The kids were already outside playing basketball in the street.
“Are all those hers?”
“Nobody knows. If we see a kid in the area, we just assume it’s Kristin’s.”
My speed-walk was Nate’s normal walk, and that bothered me. I stamped forward, trying futilely to outpace him. We turned the corner down a little side avenue of the trailer park. And there was Nascar Jim.
In all of his glory.
Nate had spotted him, too. I could tell by the choked sounds coming from his direction. “What the—“
“Hey, Riley!” Jim turned around and waved at us.
Nate squeaked next to me.
Nascar Jim wore his tighty-whities—and nothing else. They were a little threadbare and had a few holes.
“Why is he naked?” Nate asked me.
“He doesn’t like to get his clothes dirty when he’s gardening,” I whispered out of the side of my mouth.
Nate turned back to look at the man busily watering his plants in the small, raised bed next to his single-wide.
The house was black and had a large number three painted on the side.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked as he squinted at Nate.
I quickly introduced him to Nate who greeted him while busily trying to look anywhere else but at the pasty-white, unclothed man.
“You know, these little beetles are infesting my tomato plants again. I just don’t know what to do. Here, look.” Nascar Jim turned around and bent over the flower bed, studying his plant leaves closely.
“Dear Lord, I need a hedge of protection,” Nate muttered under his breath. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing as a rather large, white rear end faced us.
Nate held a hand in front of his face, shielding the obscene sight from view.
I leaned around Jim to look at the plants. “That looks like a slug is getting to them, Jim. I’ve got some slug bait back at my place. I’ll bring you some later this afternoon.”
“But I haven’t even seen any slugs!” He stared at his flower bed as if he could conjure up a slug at that moment.
“Try coming out early tomorrow morning.” I knew Jim never rose before nine, which was probably why he never caught those slugs in action.
“See! More proof you can’t trust early risers. They’re all out to get your tomato plants.”
“Well, if you keep after them, you’ll get them. If you don’t want to use bait, you could sprinkle a thick layer of salt around the base of your flower bed. It might deter a few of them.”
Jim finally stood up, and Nate sighed with relief. “You know I like the more natural remedies when I deal with my plants. Thanks for helping me.”
Nate pointed at the enormous pile of beer cans in front of the trailer and scowled quizzically.
I was glad Jim wasn’t facing him.
“Just let me know if you need anything else!”
“I got the new Territorial Seed company catalog. Want to come in and take a look?”
“I don’t have time right now, Jim. I’ve got to give Nate the tour before he has to leave.”
A large hand reached over and pinched my side lightly. I’d have to get him back for that.
We waved goodbye to Jim then walked down the street.
“I think I’m blinded by the light.”
I snickered, even though I did my best to hold in a laugh.
It felt annoyingly good to be around Nate again. And I wasn’t so sure I wanted to drive him away.
Which was a problem, because we were from two different worlds.
Chapter SixNate
She was still closed off to me.
I thought I had finally broken through her walls when
