Perfect Kind Of Trouble

32 Daren

I listen to Kayla cry softly into her pillow, and my throat begins to tighten. Every fiber of my being wants to roll over and pull her into my arms, begging her to forgive me. I want to take her face in my hands and kiss away her tears. I want to undo all the damage I’ve caused.

I can’t stand this—not having her smiling eyes on mine, not having her wrist banging into mine every few minutes. It’s like I’ve lost a piece of myself.

And it hurts. God, it hurts.

I fucked up so bad.

I stare at the ceiling and clutch at my aching chest as I listen to Kayla sniffle. I broke her. I broke Turner’s daughter.

Just like his priceless pocket watch, Turner entrusted me with Kayla and I damaged her. Crushed her to pieces.

Sleep won’t come for me. But I don’t deserve it anyway.

The next morning, I wait until Kayla has already left the room before padding into the bathroom and washing my face. Even though I work here, I’ve never been in this room before. Generally, when I stock the supplies I don’t go into the guest rooms.

I finish washing my face and dry it with a towel then look in the mirror. I have two days of scruff that looks very out of place on my usually clean-shaven face. There are dark circles under my eyes and a faint bruise on my left wrist and my hair is a matted mess. And even though I smell clean from my shower last night, I feel rotten.

Mostly because of the Kayla thing, and partly because I have no plan. I know I’m getting to a point where I’m just going to run out of money. My jobs aren’t enough to continue paying Connor’s medical bills, and now that Kayla and I have decided to forfeit the inheritance, I don’t even have a backup plan.

A knock sounds on my door. I open it to see Ellen waiting in the hallway.

She smiles. “Breakfast is ready.”

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

“Breakfast is included with every night’s stay,” she says. “You know that.”

“Yeah,” I say. “But I’m not a guest. I’m a freeloader who crashed your inn and stayed in one of your rooms last night.”

“No,” she says, drawing out the word, “you’re an employee of Willow Inn. And all employees get five guest nights for free each year.” She grins. “I’m glad to see you’re taking advantage of your employee benefits. Now hurry and come downstairs before Mable throws away your hot food and complains about it all day.”

“But I—”

“Do not make me tell Mable you don’t want her breakfast, you hear me?” She sharpens her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

Her smile is back. “Good. See you in ten.” Then she disappears from my doorway.

Shaking my head, I finish getting dressed before making my way downstairs. In the dining room, all the tables are set for breakfast and most of them are full.

“Morning, Daren,” says Earl Whethers, one of the inn’s regulars, seated at the nearest table.

“Morning, Earl,” I say. “Where’s Vivian?”

He chuckles. “At the bar.” He points to where his wife is seated at the bar top, trying to sweet-talk a shot of whiskey out of Angelo.

“Vivian, like I said yesterday and the day before,” Angelo says. “The only drinks we serve at breakfast are mimosas.”

She curls up her lip. “You’re no fun, Angelo.”

“Sit down, sit down,” Earl says to me, and pulls out a nearby chair. “Ellen says you’re off today, so I’ve decided you should join me for breakfast.” I take a seat. “So what brings you to town?” Earl says with a wink.

“The car I was riding in broke down nearby, actually,” I say. “So I stayed the night.”

“With…?”

I lift a brow.

Earl says, “Oh come on, now. Everyone is talking about how you came to the inn with a young lady. Who is she?”

“Oh, Kayla? She’s…” I blink. Who is she? “She’s my friend,” I say. “Kinda.”

He laughs. “Sure she is.” Then his whole face changes and goes pale. For a moment, I think he’s having a heart attack because his eyes bulge and his limbs go rigid. But then he whispers, “Well, I’ll be…”

I follow his gaze and relax a tinge when I realize why his mouth is hanging open the way it is. Kayla has just entered the dining room. And now that she’s all cleaned up, she’s stunning.

She always looks incredible, but in the morning light coming through the dining room from the dramatic floor-to-ceiling windows she is completely breathtaking. Her hair is tied back in a mess, she’s not wearing makeup, and she’s dressed in a ratty tank top, torn up jeans, and dirty sneakers. But she’s absolutely beautiful.

Which just reminds me of what an asshole I am.

Earl clucks his tongue. “That might be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I pull my eyes away from her. “Tell me about it.”

“Is that your lady?” he asks with a dirty wink.

I smile tightly. “I wish.”

“What happened? Did you screw it up?”

“Yep.” I nod. “I sure did.”

He sighs. “Stupid boy. I tell ya. Youth is wasted on the young. If I were your age, I’d find a way to keep that girl happy and by my side forever.”

“Why?” I say defensively. “Because she’s pretty? Because she’s more than just her good looks, you know.”

“Well, sure—”

“She’s smart. And she sews. And she wants to be a nurse. And even though life has been shitty to her she has a kind spirit. And she cares about people even when they don’t deserve it—”

I stop talking because now Earl’s staring at me like I’m crazy, and maybe I am. In fact, I know I am.

I’m crazy for thinking I was ever good enough to touch or kiss Kayla. And I’m crazy for saying mean things to her and making her cry. And most of all, I’m crazy because I just now realized that I love Kayla Turner.

It just hit me. A lightning bolt in the middle of this dining room. A warm sensation rolls over me, overwhelming me with deep affection as I stare at Kayla across the room. Oh my God. I actually love Kayla. I love who she is and what she wants and how she feels.

And it scares the shit out of me.

Guys like me don’t get to have girls like Kayla Turner. Guys like me end up as alcoholics in jail. Guys like me can only dream of girls like Kayla Turner.

So go ahead, Earl Whethers. Look at me like I’m crazy.

Because I AM completely, utterly, irrevocably crazy.

“What?” I snap, staring down at my coffee mug.

Fortunately, Mable comes up to our table just then, saving Earl from my intense eyes, and sets breakfast down in front of us.

On the other side of the room, I watch as Kayla sits down at a table by herself. Mable moves to Kayla’s table, and Kayla smiles as Mable introduces herself and starts chatting her ear off.

“This bacon is amazing, isn’t it?” Earl says.

I stare at Kayla and distractedly say, “It’s really good.”

“You know,” says Earl as he butters a piece of toast, “I remember when I first fell in love with Vivian.” He laughs. “It scared the hell out of me. I never felt worthy of her.” He says. “I still don’t.” He looks at me and smiles. “But you know what? I never regretted going after her.” He takes a bite of toast. “And you won’t either.”

I look at Earl and frown. “You want me to go after Vivian?”

“No, dumbass. You know exactly what I mean.”

My eyes catch on Kayla’s eyes across the room and my whole body goes rigid as we lock gazes. I know exactly what Earl means.