Read Second Hand: A Tucker Springs Novel 2 for Free Online Page B

be on the lookout for yards that were well-kept, colorful, and inviting. Of course, flowers would also cost money. How much could I justify spending in an effort to win $500?
I glanced over at my neighbor, who stood watching me, his hose hanging forgotten in his hand. He was clearly hoping to win the money, too.
“That’s a good idea,” I said to Velma. “Thanks for the advice.”
She smiled at me. “You bet.”
Too bad the pawnshop didn’t sell flowers.

chapter 6

“S
    o,” Denver said as he shoved his laundry into the washing machine next to El, “what’s up with Strawberry
    Shortcake?”
El laughed, less at Denver’s description of Paul than at the
fact that El knew exactly who his friend meant. “Nothing.” “Not like you to date, is it? Always thought you were more
about quick and easy.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“It looked like one.”
Choosing not to answer, El finished loading the washer
and put his money in.
“Not sure what I thought your type was,” Denver said,
“but that skinny kid sure wasn’t it.”
His words annoyed El, but the fact that he was annoyed at
all annoyed him even more. “Lay off, man.”
Denver leaned against his machine. “Don’t get touchy.
Kinda got a thing for that type myself. Just not what I imagined
you being into, that’s all.”
“That’s because I’m not,” El said, but there wasn’t much
conviction behind it.
El couldn’t really say that he’d ever had a “type” the way
Denver meant it. For him, real attraction had never been about
age or size or the color of their hair. It was more complicated
than that. It had to do with gentleness and vulnerability, and
the truth was, Paul had both those things in spades. He was
the only thing El had thought about for days. Something
about his confused eyes and his freckled nose made El smile. The thought of his pale lips and the soft skin of his throat
made El’s heart pound and his blood race for his groin. “You’re smiling,” Denver said, interrupting El’s thoughts.
“Cut it out. You’re giving me the creeps.”
“It’s not that unusual, is it?” El asked as they headed for
the booth to wait out the wash cycle.
“It’s not that you’re smiling. It’s the way you’re doing it.” That brought El up short. “What the fuck’s that mean?” Denver sat down and regarded him across the mustardyellow Formica of the table. “Nothing wrong with admitting
you like him, you know.”
“I have an idea.” El turned to stretch his legs out along the
length of the plastic bench. “Let’s talk about your love life.” Instead of answering, Denver flipped him the bird. Which
was exactly what El had expected. Denver Rogers was not the
kind of guy who sat around laundromats chatting about his
personal life.
“Fine,” Denver conceded. “Forget Strawberry Shortcake.
Tell me the latest about your sister.”
“She’s in love. He’s wonderful. He’s the best thing that ever
happened to her. For now.” El’s fingers itched for a cigarette
but had to settle for drumming irritably against his thigh.
“This one isn’t an ass to the kids, which is a nice change.” “Maybe it will work out this time.”
El couldn’t decide if Denver was deliberately trying to rile
him up or if he truly was that secretly romantic. With Denver,
one never really knew. Threading his hands behind his neck,
El regarded Denver. “So what about you? When you moved
to town four months ago, you said you were passing through.
You look like you’re settling in.”
Denver shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe. Jase’s still
paying me, and I got plenty of ass on tap. What more is
there?”
They’d had this conversation before, and El always got
some version of that answer. Except it wasn’t entirely unlike
watching Paul and thinking there was something more there,
something that hadn’t woken up yet. Denver wasn’t exactly
Sleeping Beauty. El did think, though, that he was looking for
something, waiting for something.
Which was