9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Mosby

I should have stuck around after dropping off the cooler, but I was still trying to figure out how I felt about the dreams induced by Tyler's handsome face. When I placed the cooler onto his back porch and walked toward my truck, I glanced into the salon to see Tyler cutting the hair of a handsome guy. I was immediately jealous, which was stupid. I barely knew Tyler and had no claim to him.

After I carried the last jars to the root cellar and stacked them on a shelf I'd made, I walked upstairs to the porch and sat in the chair I used when I painted. I wished I could see how Tyler reacted when he saw the cooler, but then again, did I care? Why would I? It was merely a repayment of his kindness for giving me food. Riiiight…

Barbara Bushy ran into the yard from the large oak tree and sat at the bottom of the stairs. "Good afternoon, Ms. Bushy. I left your plate over there?"

Barbara scampered up the stairs and over to the paper plate and the water bowl. She sat on her haunches and picked up a piece of banana to nibble before turning to stare at me.

"So, you like bananas? Good to know. Now, what do I do about young Tyler? He is quite handsome, and I can't stop thinking about him? What would you suggest I do?"

Barbara Bushy glared at me. I was guessing she thought I was an idiot. "Oh, you think I'm stupid?"

Of course, she didn't say it out loud, but the look she gave me? I could see her intent. While I respected Barbara Bushy for her companionship, I was a bit peeved at her judgment.

"Hey, you don't know how I suffered after I lost Alistaire because I haven't told you about every minute that we were together. I loved him."

Barbara Bushy chattered for a moment and then trained her eyes on me again, not blinking .

"Okay, maybe loved was a bit strong, but we were supposed to be partners. We pledged to make a life together."

The squirrel chattered again, but I didn't speak squirrel. I could only infer what she was getting at, and I was a little pissed. "Look, yes, Alistaire and I hadn't been as close as we were when we began our relationship, but it didn't help that he cheated on me. Hell, I know he cheated multiple times, and I'm sure there are many more I didn't know about.

"Bottom line is that I have a hard time trusting anyone after what happened with Alistaire falling in love with Tariq Jackson. I never cheated! "

Yes, I was shouting, but dammit, I had done nothing wrong. Barbara stared at me, and I could imagine her asking why I was keeping Tyler at arm's length.

"I don't know!"

Suddenly, everything was quiet as I watched Barbara scurry from the porch. The idea that she'd called me on why I was keeping Tyler at bay didn't sit well with me. I barely knew the kid. I wasn't ready to consider what was next for me, and now a squirrel was telling me what to do? That was fucking ridiculous.

I jolted awake, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. "Did you really dream about having an argument with a fucking squirrel? "

I sat up and looked out the window to see the sun was coming up. I had to ask myself what the hell that dream was about. The inner turmoil made my gut ache, but I'd learned one lesson. I needed to see the handsome barber again. I was attracted to him, and fighting it made me absolutely squirrely.

With my agent still hunting for me, I was hesitant to go to Foggy Basin. I was sure she had spies everywhere, and I didn't want to chance that I'd be spotted and my solitude would come to an end.

Early on, I'd dumped my old cell and phone number, and I'd bought a new one through a shell company I'd created to consolidate my assets when I first decided to get away from it all. I wanted the conveniences I'd had in my old life without being found, and Moslie Consolidated, LLC provided the privacy I sought.

I wasn't ready to jump back into the art world. It was a ruthless clusterfuck, and I'd been fed up with all of it when my world imploded. However, one fact remained: I missed painting something with meaning. The landscapes I had been painting could be sold at a box store for a buck .

After I went through my morning routine, I went outside with my coffee and sat on the front porch step, scanning the yard to see if Barbara Bushy had returned. The morning was warm and sunny, though the trees offered a nice bit of shade that I wanted to capture in a painting…with Tyler Rockwell in the foreground.

I'd already drawn one sketch of him the night I'd slept at his apartment. He starred in my dreams every night—except for the previous night when Barbara Bushy took center stage—and I needed to get some of those scenes on paper so I could get a good night's sleep.

I went back inside and grabbed a sketch pad off the table by the front door, along with a few pencils. I refilled my coffee mug and headed back outside. Barbara Bushy was nibbling on some acorns she'd gathered from under the oak tree. "I'm barely holding on by a thread, Barbara. Don't start any shit with me today." She turned her back and continued to eat. Apparently, I was filled with residual anger from my dream, and she was having none of it.

I closed my eyes for a moment and focused. Tyler's stunning brown eyes came to me first with the little glints of gold that reflected the sun. I had noticed them when he helped me up from the sidewalk in front of Shear Bliss.

I began sketching, his handsome face filling my mind's eye. His pouty mouth was calling to me, and I wished like hell I'd kissed him when I had the chance. He was slender with compact muscles and an ass that looked like two puppies fighting under a blanket. It would take me a million squats to achieve that amount of definition.

Unless I drew his head on backward, I couldn't highlight his ass, so I only drew him from the waist up and then I concentrated on the background. The glint of sunshine off the car windows parked in front of the businesses along Main Street added a bit of movement.

There were signs in front of the dozen or so stores, shops, and eateries. Flags hung from the light poles, bragging about Foggy Basin being a historic shopping district. Their bright purple colors waving in the breeze stood out from the green and brown hues of the trees lining the streets.

The only store I'd found on Main Street that I liked was Beauty and the Boutique. It was definitely not farmer-chic like many of the stores I'd seen in neighboring towns. Ezra had a sense of style that was all his own, and his boutique reminded me of the haute couture I'd seen in shops on Rodeo Drive.

I took the sketch inside to my studio, dragging two easels over to the window—one for the sketch pad and one for a canvas. After opening the supply closet, I gathered a plastic palette and the colors I needed from the rows of paints. My brushes were already in a large coffee can, heads up so they'd dry properly, and I grabbed a few rags from the bag I'd ordered.

Once I had everything where I wanted it, I sat and stared at the too-white canvas for thirty minutes, suddenly forgetting everything I'd just played in my head. "I need to see him again."

I went to shower and dress, pulling my hair back in a bun before I hopped into the old Bronco and drove to Foggy Basin. I had no reason to go, and no clue what I'd say to Tyler when I got there, but something inside me pulled me toward the town.

Thirty-minutes later, I parked on the lot across from the grocery store. I stopped on the sidewalk and stared across the street, seeing Tyler laughing and chatting with the customers through the salon window. His smile was infectious.

I strolled down the street, his handsome face on my mind, and wandered into Don't Go Bakin' my Heart, the local bakery on Main Street. The baker, a man named Percy, was restocking some fancy pastries and was humming along with the satellite radio station that was playing French music. It was sort of odd, but then again, what else were you going to do when you were trapped in a small bakery starting at god-knew-how early? You'd learn the playlist and hum along.

I perused the cases and found some fruit tarts and croissants, so I ordered a dozen of each. "Special occasion?" Percy seemed nervous. Was it because he was alone in the bakery with me? Did I already have a reputation as a jackass? Most people in that town were annoyingly friendly.

"Just a thank-you present for some nice people."

Percy packaged my things beautifully, and after I paid, he gave me a nervous smile. "I hope they enjoy them. I made them today. Have a great day."

"Thank you."

I paid, grabbed the bag with the goods, and left. When I approached the stairs to Shear Bliss, I saw that the bottom step was freshly repaired, which made me smile. There was yellow caution tape around half of the step, which led me to believe it had been done earlier that morning.

Stepping closer to the repair, I saw the concrete was still wet. I fought the temptation to swipe my initials into it. Instead, I put a little heart there to commemorate my entrance into Tyler's life. It was something only I'd know the significance of, but going forward when I walked by that step, I'd remember the beautiful man.

The little bell over the door rang as I walked inside. A young woman I didn't recognize stood behind the desk where I'd seen Tyler standing the day I fell. "Welcome to Shear Bliss. How can I help you?"

She was cute and pleasant—too pleasant—but I couldn't fault her for it. "Is Tyler Rockwell here?"

"Oh! Do you have an appointment with Tyler?"

I exhaled. "No, I don't. I was the lame-ass guy who tripped over the step. I wanted to thank Tyler and Miss Marlena for taking care of me. Are either of them available?"

"I'm Alice, by the way. Give me a second." She hurried away, and I was beginning to feel like a damn fool. I shouldn't have come. I damn well shouldn't have brought sweets.

I glanced around to see nobody nearby staring at me. I dropped the box on the desk and headed toward the door. Just before I walked out, I felt a gentle hand on my bicep.

I turned to see a beautiful, smiling face. "Hi, Leslie. How've you been?" Tyler pointed at the box on the counter. "I've wondered how you're doing. What's that?"

"Just a thank-you gift for you and your coworkers. I'm sorry if I was a pain in the ass. I appreciate what you did for me." I stared into those beautiful brown eyes and did my best to memorize them.

"Thank you very much. Are you okay? Any lasting issues from your almost concussion? "

"Not really. Just a short lapse in memories. It's all cleared up now. Have dinner with me at Midnight Pleasure? Or if you're game, I found a couple of recipes we can try out." Where the fuck did that come from? I had no recipes to try.

"I'd love to have dinner with you." There was that killer smile. It would be the death of me. How the fuck could I get out of it?

"Where would you like to cook? My kitchen's not a chef's dream, but my mom will be gone. I'll ask if we can use her kitchen."

His mother's place? Hell no. "Uh, how about my place? I'll come back for you. I'll shop while you finish up here."

I must have lost my fucking mind. I came to town to get another look at him, and here I was, inviting him into my safe space, my sanctuary. Who the fuck had control of my big damn mouth, because, surely it wasn't me.

"I hate that you have to come back to town or stick around to wait for me." Yeah, I hate it too. Tell them you need to leave right now.

"It's fine. What time do you get off? From work, I mean?"

Tyler chuckled at my unintended double entendre. "Five. We're closing at five today. "

I nodded. "Okay then, I'll be back at five." We smiled at each other, and I left before I committed to something more outrageous. How the fuck would I kill a whole day in this one-horse town?