Chelsea Fine - Perfect Kind Of Trouble

I need to say sorry but sorry has never come easy for me, especially when it comes to girls. I’ve never really put much effort into making up with members of the opposite sex. Once they burn me, I typically back off so I can’t get burned again. It’s a rule of mine and, up until three days ago, it worked flawlessly.

But for some reason my chest just won’t seem to loosen up with all this guilt and gloom. I can walk away from any girl anywhere, but not Kayla.

The sound of jingling keys meets my ears and I turn to see Ellen approaching the front desk, where I’ve been restacking printing paper for the past ten minutes.

She smiles. “The repair guy towed Kayla’s car to Latecomers and gave it a jump, so it should be working now. I’m going to grab Kayla and we’ll meet you outside. You ready to go?”

I nod. “Yep. I’ll be out in fifteen minutes. I’m sure Kayla wants to get away from me as soon as possible.”

Ellen narrows her eyes. “Why?”

“Because,” I sigh, angry with myself, “I basically slaughtered her to pieces with my words the other day.”

“Ah,” she says softly with a short nod. “That explains your guilt.”

I frown. I wasn’t aware my guilt was noticeable. Shit.

“But what about hers?” she says.

“Hers?” I wrinkle my brow.

“Yeah,” Ellen says. “Kayla’s been darting her eyes away from you and looking at the floor every time I try to speak with her about you… just like you’re doing now.”

I snap my eyes from the floor and meet her gaze. “That doesn’t mean she feels guilty.”

“Well it certainly doesn’t mean she’s angry. You should talk to her.” She smiles. “Girls are big on communication.”

“Why, so she can tell me what a jackass I am?”

“Maybe.” Ellen shrugs. “But if it meant you’d get her back, wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“Get her back?” I shake my head. “I never had her.”

Ellen smiles with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, Daren. There is so much you don’t know about women.”

From how sexy and beautiful Ellen is and how put together she looks, I expected her to drive something sleek and flashy. Something sporty and wild, or maybe sophisticated and expensive. But instead, she walks me outside to an old beat-up bright yellow truck.

She laughs at the look on my face. “What were you expecting? A Porsche like Daren’s?”

I laugh. “No. Yes. Maybe. I think I pictured you driving something fancy.”

She nods with a smile. “I get that a lot. I think it’s because of the high heels I wear, or maybe just my overall appearance. Whatever the reason¸ I like to surprise people now and then by doing something that seems ‘out of character’ for the way I look.”

“Oh!” I immediately feel bad. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to stereotype you by your appearance, I swear.”

She laughs. “It’s no big deal. It’s just the way it is. The way I look makes life easier in a lot of ways, but it sometimes leads to people making assumptions about me.” She tilts her head at me. “But I’m sure you know all about unfair assumptions based on beauty.”

I open my mouth but don’t know what to say.

Ellen steps closer. “It’s okay to be aware of your beauty, Kayla. In fact, it’s important. It’s okay to know you’re pretty and to know that the world treats you differently because of it. It’s only a problem if you use your beauty to manipulate others, or make others feel bad. Which, after getting to know you a little bit, I’m confident you would never do. So it’s okay. Be beautiful.” She grins. “Hey and maybe someday you can surprise someone by driving a giant yellow truck.”

She gets into the truck and I walk around to the other side. As I slide into my seat I almost feel like crying. In just a few sentences, this woman who was a stranger until just yesterday showed me more understanding than any other woman has in my whole life. And she gave me permission to look the way I do without feeling guilty or ashamed.

Without thinking, I lean over and wrap my arms around Ellen. “Thank you.”

She hugs me back, embracing me tightly. When we pull away she looks at me.

“You know what, Kayla Turner?” She smiles softly. “You’re amazing. And the world is just going to have to be okay with that.”

I laugh and wipe away the single tear dripping down my cheek just as the back door opens. I seriously have a crying problem lately.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Daren hurriedly says as he climbs inside the truck and shuts the door.

“No problem.” Ellen turns the engine on and pulls away from Willow Inn. Then she glances at me with a sympathetic face. “I talked to the tow truck guy and he was able to jump your car and give it a little juice, but he said it’s on its last legs and probably won’t last much longer.”

I sigh and nod. “Yeah. I knew it was coming. It’s just a matter of time before it’ll just die altogether. But at least it’s working for me now and I have a way to get around.” I glance back at Daren, knowing he’s completely car-less and wondering what his plan is, or if he even has one.

I think about Jenna’s words all afternoon. She seemed so frustrated with that Jack guy, but at the same time so sure she wanted him around. Because he was interesting.

Daren has been nonstop interesting—and absolute trouble, just like I thought. But it was the kind of trouble I needed to feel alive. It shook me up. It woke me up. It was the perfect kind of trouble.

I glance in the mirror at the beautiful boy in the backseat.

And I want to be in it all over again.

The drive from Willow Inn to Copper Springs is just over an hour, but so far it’s felt like it’s taking us days. Most of the trip has been filled with light conversation—mostly initiated by Ellen—about nothing of real substance. We’ve stayed away from all the big topics. But during our drive, I learned some new things about Kayla. Like how she’s never had any pets and how she dated a jerk named Jeremy for a year, who treated her like a trophy he took out into public and showed off but never bothered to get to know who she really was. And she graduated at the top of her class in high school.

And thanks to Ellen’s extensive knowledge of my personal life, Kayla’s learned a few things about me. Like how Marcella died of a brain aneurism three years ago and I cried for two days.

But even though the entire ride has been us talking about, well, us, Kayla and I haven’t spoken—or looked at each other—once. Which is fine with me. But the closer we get to Copper Springs, the sweatier my palms get.

Because both Kayla and I know that she has no place to sleep tonight. And if she spends the money Ellen gave her on another hotel room, she’ll be broke by tomorrow. I know Amber can probably give me a ride home from Latecomers, but what’s Kayla’s plan? Driving to the Quickie Stop?

The idea of Kayla sleeping by herself again at that disgusting motel makes me want to punch something really hard.

If only we’d been able to find the inheritance money none of this would be an issue. Maybe we shouldn’t have given up so quickly. We were both frustrated and angry yesterday, neither of us thinking clearly. If we could just work things out between us then maybe we could figure out the last clue and Kayla would never again have to subject herself to a place like the Quickie Stop.

“Can I buy you guys dinner?” Ellen asks as we turn into the Latecomers parking lot. We start to protest, but she dismisses us as she pulls the truck into a parking space by the courtyard. “I insist. Now get out so I can feed you.”

The three of us walk into Latecomers and Amber lights up when she sees us. “Ellen!” She comes out from behind the bar and gives Ellen a big hug.

Ellen is good friends with Amber’s mom and has always treated Amber like a niece. And Amber thinks the world of Ellen.

“Hi, beautiful.” Ellen smiles.

Pulling back from the hug, Amber smiles at us. “Hi guys.” She waves us over to the counter. “Come sit at the bar.”

We each find a barstool. Ellen sits in between Kayla and me, a human buffer between the tension we’ve brought to the bar, and Amber takes our drink order. As Ellen and Kayla fall into a deep conversation about her father, Amber sets my drink down in front of me and leans in.

She lowers her voice. “So what’s going on?”

I lower my voice to match hers. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been hearing all sorts of stories about you and Kayla Turner running around town in handcuffs,” she says, lifting a brow. “What’s that about?”

I shake my head and quickly fill her in on Turner’s will.

“No. Way.” She stares at me. “That’s insane.” She looks back and forth between Kayla and me. “So where are the handcuffs now?”

I scratch the back of my neck. “In Kayla’s suitcase, I think. Angelo picked the lock for us and I saw her toss them in there.”

“So you forfeited the money?” she squawks.

“We couldn’t find the money,” I say. “So we decided to give up on the scavenger hunt.”

“Just like that?” She looks upset. “Why? Why would you give up so easily?”

I shake my head. “It’s a long story.”

She narrows her gaze at me. “Daren Ackwood. Did you sleep with her?”

“Wha—no!” I say sternly. “No, I did not sleep with her.” I pause. “Well, actually I did sleep with her—but I didn’t have sex with her.”

She pins me with her eyes. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she says, jutting her chin, “how did you fuck things up with Kayla?” She nods at Kayla, who’s still in deep conversation with Ellen. “You keep looking at her like she’s your long-lost puppy, and she keeps glancing at you like she’s afraid you’re going to take off at any moment. So what happened?”

I play with my glass. “Nothing. She just… She can do better than me.”

Amber swats me with her bar towel. Hard.

“Ow—dammit. What?”

She points at me and lowers her voice. “I let you throw a pity party for yourself for seven years, but you’re a man now. You’re a good man who’s worthy of a good woman. So suck up your insecurities and go fix things with Kayla.”

I glare at her, but I know she’s right.

“You like her, don’t you?” Amber says.

I stare at the bruise on my wrist and nod. “I like her. A lot.”

Amber scans my face for a moment and a smile tugs at her lips. “Oh my. Has Daren Ackwood fallen in love?” She sucks in a breath when I don’t respond. “I knew it. I knew the moment I saw your face when she wouldn’t shake your hand the other night. You’re totally smitten with her.” She giggles. “God, this makes me so happy.”

“Okay, enough with the mushiness.”

Her face turns serious. “You need to make things right with her. Tonight. And then you need to keep her by your side. Forever. Understand?”

Our food comes and saves me from replying to that, but as the three of us eat I can’t help but flick my eyes to Kayla. It’s easy to keep someone by your side when you’re handcuffed to them, but asking someone to be with you—hoping without any guarantee—that sounds hard as hell.

Awkward conversation carries us through the meal and when we’re through, we say good-bye to Amber and head back to the parking lot where Ellen parked. My eyes catch on the painted wall of the courtyard, taking me back to the feeling of Kayla in my arms as I pressed her up against that wall and kissed her hungrily. That painted wall was the last thing I saw before Kayla Turner changed me completely.

I walked into Latecomers that night with all my baggage and blues, and walked out with a racing heart and a chest filled with hope.

“Thanks for walking me out, guys. Are you guys sure I can’t drop you off anywhere else?” Ellen asks, pulling her keys from her purse. “I know Amber said she can give you ride, Daren, but it’s really no problem for me to take you.”

“No, you go,” I say with a smile. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”

Kayla smiles. “Thank you so much for dinner. And for the ride.”

“Of course.” Ellen smiles and says to Kayla, “And I’m serious about my offer. The job and room are yours if you want them. You have my number, right?”

“I do.” Kayla nods.

Ellen inhales. “I really hope you say yes and I get to spend more time with you.” She wraps her arms around Kayla in a hug.

I watch them as my mind spins. Ellen offered Kayla a job and a place to stay? That would mean Kayla would stay in Arizona and live at the inn, where I work, and I would see her all the time.