“Sure, bring it up on Monday. I’ll see if my dad or Dean can hook it up to the diagnostic thing. Shouldn’t take too long.” I spun back around, jumped up on the curb and opened my truck door. It creaked—which I thought of as an anti-theft feature, even if I never locked it—then I hopped in. I chanced a look back at Vaughn, who was still standing there by the door of the restaurant.
I cranked my grey beast to life and rolled down the window.
He shouted, “Thanks for the sandwich.”
“See you Monday. I hope tomorrow runs a little smoother for ya,” I shouted back as I pulled out and headed for home. He lifted a hand and gave me a little wave as I drove off.
I slowed a little as I rode past the old Robinson house. We lived on the same road, but we were out of town about a mile and a half and they were the first house on the edge of the city limits. I drove past it nothing short of twice each day.
I saw the boxes he’d unloaded to get his house keys on the driveway, stacked neatly against the garage door. The whole bungalow needed a new coat of paint, and maybe even a new porch. As far back as I could remember, it had always been that color and it had never been remodeled, only maintained—if you could call it that. There were dowels missing from the railing on the porch and the screen door on the side was never shut and latched all the way. Sometimes it would swing in the wind if the weather was bad. It needed a new roof, too.
I’d been in it a few times as a child, and I was sure the inside was just as dated and neglected. It was nice that someone was going to fix it up.
I smiled to myself and my boot pushed down on the gas pedal, speeding up on my way out of town.
I didn’t know Vaughn, but anyone who would move to Wynne—from anywhere—and fix up one of its oldest houses, and take over for a dentist who’d been a lifelong resident ... well, he had to be pretty ambitious. And sadly, that’s one thing our little town lacked.
Ambition.
I pulled into our shed, where I normally parked, and killed the engine. It was only a little after eight, but I knew if I started on the lures I’d be up all night. And I had to get those invoices straightened out in the morning.
So instead, I grabbed a beer from the old fridge next to my workbench, let the tailgate down on my truck, and sat there in the dark, thinking about the new guy and watching the stars.
Read more ROOTS AND WINGS here.
Also by M. Mabie
THE WAKE SERIES
Bait
Sail
Anchor
THE KNOT DUET
Twisted Desire
Tethered Love
STANDALONES
Fade In
All the Way
CITY LIMITS SERIES of STANDALONES
Sunshine and Rain
Smoke and Mirrors
THE BREAKING TRILOGY
Break My Fall
Break Me Down
Break the Faith
(Coming in December 2018)
About M. Mabie
M. Mabie is a writer who made thousands of readers hate to love (and love to hate) the angst-filled contemporary romance, Bait.
Mabie lives in Illinois with her husband. She writes unconventional love stories and tries to embody "real-life romance." She cares about politics but will not discuss them in public. She uses the same fork at every meal, watches Wayne's World while cleaning, and lets her dog sleep on her head.
She has always been a writer. In fact, she was born with a pen in her hand, which almost never happens. Almost. M. Mabie usually doesn't speak in third-person.
She promises.
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