Something New

Goddess was entirely new.

Something about the way JD said it, brimming with pure, unfiltered enthusiasm, made her pause. It wasn't flattery or mockery—it was as if he truly believed it.

She signaled her dogs to return and her gaze shifted to the car JD was so proudly presenting. "First car" felt like a generous term for the rusted heap before her. The paint was flaking like dried mud, and the mismatched panels gave it the look of a patchwork quilt stitched together from spare parts.

But JD's pride in the vehicle was unmistakable. To him, it wasn't an old car; it was a symbol of something more—a step forward, however small. He needed the car now that he got the job.

Joanne didn't say anything, but JD's mind was already racing. This car, this moment—it all felt like the culmination of a whirlwind few years.

Since crossing paths with her, his luck had taken a sharp turn for the better. First, he had a whole meal after years, then he landed the job at Shamrock Logistics, and now, he'd managed to get his hands on a car.

Granted, he hadn't exactly paid for it yet. The salesman had handed him the keys on nothing more than a verbal promise, swayed by his earnestness. JD hadn't even needed to show paperwork; all it took was mentioning he was staying at McDonald's Farm and had just been hired in Shamrock Logistics. The man hadn't asked questions—just handed over the keys.

He loved how trusting people in small towns were.

Looking at Joanne now, JD couldn't help but marvel at how much had changed in such a short time. He didn't know much about her yet, but she had an air about her—a presence that commanded respect and seemed to draw luck her way. Maybe some of that luck was rubbing off on him.

Joanne, meanwhile, was sizing him up with a mix of amusement and incredulity. She couldn't help but wonder about him.

There was something unusual about JD that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

The spring breeze swept through the driveway, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers. Joanne exhaled, shaking off the thought as she folded her arms. For all his quirks, JD had managed to keep things interesting, if nothing else.

"Well," she said finally, her voice light but firm, "let's hope that car holds up long enough to get you back into town."

JD smiled wider, his excitement undimmed by her skepticism. She watched him for a moment longer, unsure whether to laugh or sigh. She found herself curious—intrigued, even—to see what he would do next.

"You really are influential, Jo Smith!" JD's voice rang out, brimming with unrestrained enthusiasm. His grin was wide enough to rival the horizon. "I got the job! Yay!"

Joanne crossed her arms, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. His energy was infectious, though she wasn't about to let it show too much. "Well, congratulations, Mr. Daniels," she replied, her tone playfully cool. "Hope you don't embarrass me there."

"I'll make you proud, Goddess."

The words rolled off his tongue with a surprising ease as JD strolled closer, his face alight with unshakable optimism. The last rays of sunlight danced across his features, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkle in his eyes.

Joanne's breath caught, and she hated herself for noticing just how... distracting he looked. Snack? No, more like a full-course meal.

"Did you just call me Goddess?" Joanne asked, arching a brow, her voice steady, though an undercurrent of something unfamiliar flickered beneath her composed exterior.

JD froze, his grin faltering for the briefest moment, a crack in his otherwise boyish confidence. He rubbed the back of his neck, his laugh softer this time, almost nervous. "Uh... it just slipped out," he admitted, the slight waver in his tone lending him an air of vulnerability that was unexpectedly endearing.

Her heart betrayed her, skipping a beat before she could catch it. Twice now. He had called her that twice. Once might have been an accident, but twice? 

Did he actually think of her that way?

Joanne found herself momentarily lost in the thought, her mind drifting in unfamiliar territory. A strange, alluring scent—earthy with a faint musk—broke her reverie. It wasn't overwhelming, not the kind that clawed at the senses, but something gentler, subtler. It was the sort of scent that crept in, uninvited, stirring something inside her before she even realized it.

Butterflies. Actual butterflies.

Her gaze snapped up, and her breath hitched. JD was standing toe-to-toe with her, his arms reaching upward.

"Uh…" JD began, his voice low, warm breath brushing against her cheeks and carrying an intimacy she hadn't anticipated. The cool breeze teased the edges of her hair, starkly contrasting the warmth that had sparked between them.

Joanne startled like a skittish kitten, stepped back sharply as if the proximity had burned her. The sudden rush of emotion, unbidden and unfamiliar, left her shaken.

She hadn't felt this way—this off-balance—in the presence of a man for a very long time.

JD's hand fell to his side, his expression softening as he seemed to sense her discomfort. "You have a leaf stuck in your hair…" he explained gently, his voice carrying an almost apologetic note.

Her cheeks warmed again, but this time it wasn't entirely from embarrassment. Joanne let out an awkward chuckle, brushing her fingers through her hair with more force than necessary.

"You have beautiful hair," JD said, his voice quieter now, his words unfiltered. "It suits you. Gives you so much character…"

She heard Jeffrey's frantic neighs from afar but she didn't allow herself to be distracted. She stilled for a moment, studying the man who reignited the feelings she had long buried deep down.

There was no artifice in his tone, no clever manipulation or practiced charm. He was genuine. JD didn't seem to have the capacity to keep a thought to himself—it all spilled out, raw and unpolished.

Something softened in her then, the earlier tension melting into a quiet warmth. The fleeting awkwardness was replaced by an inexplicable ease, like the shifting of a storm giving way to calm.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The crickets' rhythmic chirping filled the growing twilight, their song mingling with the soft hum of the cooling air. Overhead, the sky blushed with gold and lavender, the sun making its final descent, casting a faint glow over their silent exchange.

Joanne exhaled quietly, as though releasing the unspoken tension coiled between them. She cleared her throat, breaking the stillness. "Let's go inside," she said briskly, her tone measured and steady, even if her steps felt slightly too purposeful as she turned toward the house.

JD followed a few paces behind, his own calm unraveling with every step. His heart thundered in his chest, its rhythm erratic, and as his gaze wandered down, it landed on his hand—his fingers twitching as though still caught in the lingering sensation of the moment.

What the hell was that? He flexed his hand absently, as if trying to shake off an invisible tether. Why did I want to touch her?