The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning, #2) (11)

“What about fishing? I like to fish.”

He nodded. “I have a fishing boat in the barn. Josh loves fishing.”

“I asked Josh where you lived before you moved here, but he just said you lived in a house.”

Kyle laughed. “He’s not wrong. We lived in Crested Butte, Colorado.”

“Why did you move?”

He gazed at my house. “We needed a change, but I still wanted to live in a small town, so when my brother suggested Devil’s Head, and there happened to be a job opening at the school, I figured why not try here.”

I nodded, but I was out of questions that didn’t involve quizzing him on the whereabouts and circumstances surrounding Josh’s mom. Yet, I wasn’t ready to go inside and call it a night.

“I don’t know if you bring your lunch to school, but the only decent meal they serve is chicken noodle soup with cinnamon rolls. Stay away from shrimp shapes. I don’t think they contain actual shrimp. And don’t be fooled by the beef burger. It’s a rubbery patty with a funky taste. Everything else is just a version of hot dogs. The fruit is canned in heavy syrup, the cookies are concrete, and the milk is sour. But sometimes they have chocolate milk, and it’s acceptable.”

Kyle eyed me, trying to restrain his grin. He was so handsome. I couldn’t believe he was my neighbor. I never wanted him to move.

“Thanks for the tip,” he said.

“Oh, also, don’t shake hands with Mr. Dillinger.”

“The principal?” He squinted.

“Yes. He picks his nose all the time.”

Kyle cringed.

When crickets were the only ones talking, I hopped off the fence. “I’m glad you moved into the Tallmans’ house. We haven’t had good neighbors in a while.”

“What was wrong with the Tallmans?”

“They fought all the time. We could hear them from our house. Mr. Tallman threatened to cut off my hands if I took his apples. And they had a mean dog who chased me up a tree on more than one occasion.”

Kyle chuckled. “So the bar for being a good neighbor has been set low.”

“The lowest.”

“I’ll take that as a backhanded compliment.”

I smirked while walking away. “You can take it however your pretty little head wants.”

“Touché, Eve. Good night.”

I waited until I felt certain he was on his way home, then I peered over my shoulder. But he wasn’t walking home; he was still at the fence, watching me. When I slowed my stride, he grinned, shook his head, and turned to head home.

I was obsessed.





CHAPTER FIVE





PRETENDERS, “DON’T GET ME WRONG”





Eve

Freedom wasn’t a strong enough word, but it was close enough.

The grounding ended. They returned the phone to my room. And I was permitted to hang out at the creek with the promise or threat that one of my parents might check up on me unannounced.

Thankfully, Erin’s fever broke just in time to attend Sunday morning service, because I was desperate to tell her about Kyle.

We sat in the front of the choir. Worth noting: I was a terrible singer, and so was Erin. However, after my oldest sister Sarah (the singer in the family) left Devil’s Head, my dad decided he needed one of his daughters to be in the choir like a Jacobson family mascot. My younger sister Gabby was next in line as soon as I figured out the best way to make it on my own outside of small-town Missouri. Erin was not obligated to be in the choir but joined it to keep me company or share in the misery—a true best friend.

“I have so much to tell you. It’s been torture not having a phone in my room,” I said as we watched the congregation file into the church in little groups, like ants at a picnic, deciding which crumbs to tackle first.

“What’s it about?”

“Our new neighbor is a single dad. I don’t know his age, but I’d guess late twenties. His older brother and my dad are best friends. And he’s the new math teacher and football coach. And he is so, so, so hot.”

Erin’s brows shot up her forehead, hiding behind her big, blond bangs. “Dang it. Why couldn’t he have come here a year earlier and been our math teacher?”

“I know.” I covered my mouth to muffle my giggle. “I think he’s going to let me babysit his five-year-old son after school.”

“What happened to his wife?”

Just as I started to speak, Kyle and Josh walked up the aisle and sat next to the Smiths.

“Good morning,” my dad said, resting his hands on both sides of the lectern. “Let us pray.”

After prayer, the choir sang the opening hymn and I whispered in Erin’s ear as we sat down, “See the blond guy and little boy next to the Smiths?”

Erin nodded.

“That’s my neighbor and his son.”

She squeezed my hand while pressing her other hand to her chest, confirming what I already knew. Kyle was the hottest guy in Devil’s Head, maybe in all of Missouri.

Whenever he looked at me, I shifted my attention to my dad because it was too much to handle. He and Josh wore matching navy suits, white button-downs, and robin-egg blue ties.

“I’ve died and gone to Heaven,” Erin whispered.