“Is there any way you’d reconsider? It’d really help out Daisy. I’d be happy to pay extra for the service.”
Tyler lifted his head at the sound of Chris Jennings’s voice coming from the grocery-store owner’s office. Although Tyler had never had a problem with Chris, his nutso girlfriend was a different story, with her late-night spying and video-taking and trying to turn Chris against Tyler’s dad. He wished there was something he could do about her.
“I can’t,” Mr. Lee, the store owner, said. “If I offer delivery to one customer, everyone is going to want it, and that would be a mess. I’d have to buy a snowmobile—or a dog sled. Why don’t you just bring her groceries to her yourself? Heard that you’re over there just about every day.”
“Who’d you hear that from?” Chris’s voice had an undertone that was chillier than the freezer Tyler was leaning against.
“Uh…can’t remember,” Mr. Lee stammered. “But, anyway, there’s no way I can do the delivery. Maybe there’s some neighborhood kid who’d be willing to do it?”
Wheels started turning in Tyler’s mind, and he tuned out the rest of the conversation. Reaching into the freezer, he grabbed the first thing that came to hand and hurried through the store, finally finding his dad in the produce section. Tyler dropped his frozen selection into the cart.
“Black-bean burgers?” His father raised his eyebrows. “That’s a first. Are you going vegetarian on me?”
Tyler restrained a wince at his absentminded dinner choice. He wasn’t a big fan of beans. “No. Just didn’t notice they weren’t beef. I was thinking about something else.”
“Yeah?” Keeping his attention on Tyler, he started pushing the cart toward the registers. “What about?”
Trying to keep the excited smile off his face, Tyler pretended to be interested in a display of tomatoes. “I was thinking about getting a job.”
Chapter 11
A knock on the front door made her start. After the one o’clock call, she’d worked off her nervous energy on the treadmill for an hour before showering and returning to the computer just five minutes ago to dive back into research.
As she got up from her chair, her eyes flicked toward the clock in the corner of her laptop screen. It was still pretty early for Chris, and he would’ve texted her before showing up an hour and a half ahead of time. Walking to the front door, she pressed the intercom button.
“Hello?” She half expected to hear the voice of one of her recent guests, asking about some forgotten item. A young, unknown male answered, instead.
“Hi. Um…Ms. Little?”
“Yes?” Her tone was cautious. It was unusual for strangers to come to the door—not counting new friends recruited by Chris.
“I’m Tyler Coughlin. I work for Melcher’s?”
“The grocery store?” Her unease faded to puzzlement.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m going to be delivering your groceries from now on.”
“You are?” She knew she sounded like a clueless idiot, but that was basically how she felt.
“Yes, ma’am. So…uh, can I come in?” Strangely enough, the hesitation in the kid’s voice made her relax. He’d probably be shocked to know that he’d made her even more nervous than he was.
“Okay.” Her finger hovered over the unlock button for a long moment before she mentally told herself to stop being paranoid and just let the poor kid inside. He sounded like he couldn’t be over sixteen. If she started being afraid of children, then she might as well give up and become a full-fledged Amish hoarding grandmother. With a resolute poke of her finger, she unlocked the exterior door.
Her hands were sweating as she unfastened the dead bolts. Taking a deep breath, she tried to rearrange her expression to something that didn’t scream “terror” before opening the door.
As Tyler stepped into her entryway, she let out the air she’d been holding. Her initial estimate of his age looked to be right. He was tall, but gangly, and he had an ungainly puppy look, as if he hadn’t completely finished growing into his body yet.
“Hi.” Giving her an uncertain smile, he tossed his too-long bangs out of his eyes. His gaze flickered up and down her body in a clumsily obvious attempt at secretly checking her out, before he blushed and turned his eyes toward the floor.
“Hi.” As she relocked the door, Daisy noted that her hands had quit sweating once she’d confirmed it was, indeed, just a kid. “What’s this about groceries?”
His smile fell away, making room for confusion. “Uh, didn’t you talk to Mr. Lee?”
“Mr. Lee?” The name sounded vaguely familiar.
“The owner of Melcher’s?”
Daisy had to smile at the way their conversation seemed to be made up of questions, and she waved toward the kitchen doorway. “Want to come in?”