Dirt: A Sexy Small Town Romance (Copperwood Book 1) by Reese Patton Page A
Authors: Reese Patton
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apartments. I had no idea how she managed to pay the rent on her bartender salary, but she never really complained about money like the rest of us did.
Along one wall were two bookshelves with glass doors in front of each shelf. She packed books tightly into the shelves. Hardcovers, textbooks from what looked like college, and paperbacks. There was no rhyme nor reason to her tastes. A mystery by Agatha Christie rested next to a collection from Christopher Moore who resided next to a collection of Louisa May Alcott books. I hadn’t read The Giver in years, but it was in her book case, next to The Death of Ivan Ilych.
Every time I visited, I wanted to ask her about them, but somehow a conversation completely unrelated to books always distracted me.
“Kirstin?”
“Hmm?”
She stepped out of the kitchen and I was prepared to pepper her with questions about her books when her phone rang. Kirstin held up a finger and walked back into the kitchen to pick up her cell.
Part of me desperately wanted to sneak closer to the kitchen to hear who she was talking to. I didn’t know of anyone else in town who would call her, but maybe she had family or friends from out of town. Politeness overcame curiosity and I fell back against the couch.
We all had secrets. Kirstin would tell me when she wanted me to know. And since I really didn’t have any other female friend I could rely on for a cup of coffee and an ear to listen to my problems, I thought it was probably best not to do anything that might ruin it.
Her voice got a little bit louder, but it was still muffled. Whatever conversation she was having, it didn’t sound like she was enjoying it. I wanted to stay and be there for her, but from the tone of her voice, it sounded like she was trying to keep quiet. Giving Kirstin her privacy was the better thing to do, besides, I needed to head back home for a bit before going into work.
I slipped off the couch and headed to the door. “I have to run home and check on my dad, I’ll see you at work tonight.” I called out before stepping out of the apartment, just so she knew I was leaving.
13
Shane
I barely got back to my motel room from dropping Mya off at her father’s house when, what I could only assume was a fist, pounded on the door. My first thought was that Alene was back, but she wouldn’t have pounded on the door — she might have broken a nail.
I cursed under my breath and stomped to the door. All I wanted to do was sit down and get some work done. Mya had occupied so many of my thoughts lately, that I had fallen well behind on my writing schedule.
I grabbed the door and yanked it open. “What!”
Mike stood on the opposite side of the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Angry already? I haven’t even said anything.”
I stepped back and welcomed him into the room. Not that the motel room was very welcoming. I gestured to one of the two chairs and took the other. “I’d offer you something to drink, but all I have is tap water.”
Mike sat down in the chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and while he stared at me with his eyebrows drawn together. “What are you really doing here, Shane?”
“Settling my father’s estate.” I wasn’t about ready to give him any other information. He didn’t need to know all of the reasons I came back, especially if he was going to come to my door accusing me of something I couldn’t even begin to fathom.
“Then why are you showing up at Mya’s door?”
“I could be asking you why you were there.”
“Because I’m her friend. And I help out when I can.” Mike leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Don’t lead her on again, Shane.”
“We had lunch together.” He didn’t need to know I kissed her or that she kissed me back.
“Yeah, and you aren’t going to be around next weekend to take her out to lunch, are you?”
Mike wasn’t wrong. I opened my mouth, but closed it before I
Along one wall were two bookshelves with glass doors in front of each shelf. She packed books tightly into the shelves. Hardcovers, textbooks from what looked like college, and paperbacks. There was no rhyme nor reason to her tastes. A mystery by Agatha Christie rested next to a collection from Christopher Moore who resided next to a collection of Louisa May Alcott books. I hadn’t read The Giver in years, but it was in her book case, next to The Death of Ivan Ilych.
Every time I visited, I wanted to ask her about them, but somehow a conversation completely unrelated to books always distracted me.
“Kirstin?”
“Hmm?”
She stepped out of the kitchen and I was prepared to pepper her with questions about her books when her phone rang. Kirstin held up a finger and walked back into the kitchen to pick up her cell.
Part of me desperately wanted to sneak closer to the kitchen to hear who she was talking to. I didn’t know of anyone else in town who would call her, but maybe she had family or friends from out of town. Politeness overcame curiosity and I fell back against the couch.
We all had secrets. Kirstin would tell me when she wanted me to know. And since I really didn’t have any other female friend I could rely on for a cup of coffee and an ear to listen to my problems, I thought it was probably best not to do anything that might ruin it.
Her voice got a little bit louder, but it was still muffled. Whatever conversation she was having, it didn’t sound like she was enjoying it. I wanted to stay and be there for her, but from the tone of her voice, it sounded like she was trying to keep quiet. Giving Kirstin her privacy was the better thing to do, besides, I needed to head back home for a bit before going into work.
I slipped off the couch and headed to the door. “I have to run home and check on my dad, I’ll see you at work tonight.” I called out before stepping out of the apartment, just so she knew I was leaving.
13
Shane
I barely got back to my motel room from dropping Mya off at her father’s house when, what I could only assume was a fist, pounded on the door. My first thought was that Alene was back, but she wouldn’t have pounded on the door — she might have broken a nail.
I cursed under my breath and stomped to the door. All I wanted to do was sit down and get some work done. Mya had occupied so many of my thoughts lately, that I had fallen well behind on my writing schedule.
I grabbed the door and yanked it open. “What!”
Mike stood on the opposite side of the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Angry already? I haven’t even said anything.”
I stepped back and welcomed him into the room. Not that the motel room was very welcoming. I gestured to one of the two chairs and took the other. “I’d offer you something to drink, but all I have is tap water.”
Mike sat down in the chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and while he stared at me with his eyebrows drawn together. “What are you really doing here, Shane?”
“Settling my father’s estate.” I wasn’t about ready to give him any other information. He didn’t need to know all of the reasons I came back, especially if he was going to come to my door accusing me of something I couldn’t even begin to fathom.
“Then why are you showing up at Mya’s door?”
“I could be asking you why you were there.”
“Because I’m her friend. And I help out when I can.” Mike leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Don’t lead her on again, Shane.”
“We had lunch together.” He didn’t need to know I kissed her or that she kissed me back.
“Yeah, and you aren’t going to be around next weekend to take her out to lunch, are you?”
Mike wasn’t wrong. I opened my mouth, but closed it before I
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