For a second, he stared at me, blank.
Then something lit in his hazel eyes I knew I could bask in its warmth for eternity (so I pretended I didn’t see it, though did this poorly, but just enough to fight my desire to lean in, say, with my mouth touching his, to see it in close proximity).
And he gave me more.
“You’re a little crazy, gypsy.”
He said it like he thought it wasn’t a bad thing, a lovely nuance coating the rumble in his voice that I also could bask in for eternity.
I pretended I didn’t hear that as well, moved back, allowing him entry, and kept moving toward the hall to the garage, doing this speaking. “Coffee’s on, I’ll bring yours out.”
“Jus,” he called, and I stopped walking and turned back to him. “Max says you want the deck finished?”
“Yeah, do you mind?” I asked. “It’s looking awesome. I’m not going to be hanging in the utility room so it’ll be nice to have another change of space to hang.”
He nodded. “I’ll get on that.”
“Appreciated, Deke.”
He moved toward the glass door set in the wall of glass that led now, thanks to Deke, to the back deck.
I went to the garage to get him coffee.
* * * * *
An hour and a half later, showered, dressed and ready to hit town, this being finding somewhere with Wi-Fi so I could deal with emails coming in (specifically the ones from my interior designer), I opened the door to the back deck.
And Deke.
I again admired the herringbone way the boards were set in, making it just that much more interesting, and I did this so as not to admire the man working on the railing.
I didn’t have to call to him. The minute I opened the door, he’d stopped what he was doing to look at me.
“Hey,” I greeted, stepping out.
He jerked up his chin.
“Going into town,” I told him, stopping a few feet outside the door. “Need anything?”
“Nope,” he answered.
This made me curious.
“Do you bring lunch in your truck or something?” I asked.
“Yep,” he answered.
Wow. Deke packed a lunch.
Now I was surprised and curious.
“Water?” I went on.
“Yep,” he repeated.
“Cold water?” I pushed.
“Cold enough.”
Yeesh. He didn’t need to bring water.
I crossed my arms on my chest. “Dude, you can help yourself to the water in the fridge.”
“I’m good, Jus.”
“What’s for lunch today?” I asked.
“Bologna.”
“Yum,” I said.
He stared.
Then he asked, “You like bologna?”
“Well, cold, I can take it or leave it. Fry that up until it’s just a bit burnt with a slap of American cheese and put it on toast with loads of yellow mustard, dee-lish.”
He stared again, this time without speaking.
“What was for lunch yesterday?” I asked, still filled with curiosity, as, unfortunately, I probably always would be when it came to Deke.
“Bologna,” he repeated.
“Deke, you need variety.”
“Not sure about your eyesight, Jus, but I ain’t exactly wastin’ away.”
This was very true.
I grinned at him.
This made him look weirdly annoyed.
I decided to ignore that and get on with my morning.
I did just that, turning but saying loudly, “I’ll bring you a sandwich from the deli.”
“Don’t bring me a sandwich,” he said loudly back.
I stood in the open door and looked over my shoulder at him. “And chips. Maybe a cookie.”
“Jus—”
I slipped in, closed the door and walked across the creamy-white-foam-coated space to grab my laptop, head out the door and to my truck.
* * * * *
The only business I’d noted that had a notice that said free Wi-Fi (and theirs didn’t say free Wi-Fi, it said ♥♥♥Free Wi-Fi!!!!☺☺☺) was Carnal’s coffee house, La-La Land Coffee.
So I hit there because I could use a latte as well as Wi-Fi.
I walked in and knew why Krys had called me Free People.
She knew the difference between boho and hippie.
This was because the dude and chick behind the counter were so hippie, I wondered if they had a time machine.
“Hey,” I called as I walked up to them, noting the girl was doing something at the cash register but the dude with his bandana wrapped around his forehead and round specs with blue lenses was staring at me.
She looked up and caught sight of me.
Neither of them moved, including their mouths to use to greet me.
I stopped in front of the counter, clocking their looks and knowing the jig was up.
It was actually nice it lasted as long as it did.
“Hey,” I said more quietly.
“You’re Justice Lonesome,” the girl stated breathily.
“I am, honey,” I confirmed.
“Groovintude,” the guy whispered reverently.
“I…I…I…” the girl stammered, then shut up.
After that, they both remained silent.
I got closer, and to break the awkward, said, “It’d be super-cool if I could use your Wi-Fi and do it drinking a butterscotch latte with one of those butterscotch caramel muffins.”
I tipped my head to the case that looked filled with selections from Heaven’s bakery.