She looked cute and younger than he’d known her to be.
It was that last bit that made him shove down whatever ill will had surged toward his brother when he saw the close proximity he had toward Libby.
Young girls had never been his thing, no matter what they said in the court. And Libby, looking so fresh-faced and innocent, and young, brought all that anger and irritation back.
That was the only excuse he had for what he said. “Looks like you’re getting a lot of work done today, brother.”
His words were directed at Foster, but his sneer was aimed at Libby. And he didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like she had done anything to him. They’d established that yesterday. She’d been so right with what she’d said; guilt had hit him right between the eyes. Hard. She had thought the best of him. She hadn’t been with her family at all. She told him she thought he was innocent. His brothers had said they’d heard she’d said the same thing.
Yet every time he saw her, he thought the worst of her.
Like now.
He wanted to lash out. Why was she letting Foster reach around her like that? They could stand at the computer together without practically hugging each other.
He wasn’t jealous. At least, he told himself that. He was just irritated that she was even there. A Hopkins girl, in the garage, and he had to work with her. That was the problem.
Foster grinned, showing his teeth. It might’ve been Blade’s imagination, but it looked like Foster moved just that much closer to Libby.
“Yeah?” Foster smirked. “Seems like you took a three-year vacation not that long ago. I think I can take a morning off.” If he’d been fifteen years younger, he might have stuck his tongue out. That’s what his tone sounded like anyway.
Yeah, that was the great thing about having brothers. They weren’t afraid to throw anything in your face. Even his prison record. One they knew wasn’t deserved.
“This is a workplace environment. I don’t think you two should be snuggled up together. If you want to do that, do it off the clock.”
His words didn’t alter Foster’s smirk at all. But halfway through his first sentence, Libby’s face had jerked up, her eyes wide, and hurt had touched them as his mouth continued to run. Unfounded accusations. And he knew it.
Seemed like every time he was around her, he was hurting her. Saying something stupid.
He probably should apologize. But it wasn’t good to do that in front of his brothers.
He strode over to his side of the garage and picked up the work order that was waiting for him.
The job he was doing, welding a couple of loose crossmembers on a dump trailer, wasn’t complicated, and he could do it in his sleep. Which made the morning drag even worse than it might have if he’d been doing something that took all of his concentration and he didn’t have time to think. Of course, no matter what he was doing, he was probably constantly going to be lifting his head up and looking over at the desk.
Funny how Ms. Reva had worked there for years, and Blade never thought about looking over. But now that Libby was behind the counter, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes from going that direction. And it was all made worse because most of the time when he looked, Foster was there beside her.
A couple of times when Foster caught him looking over, Foster smirked and moved closer.
He loved his brothers, and he knew they’d die for him, but he was seriously contemplating maiming Foster right now. Something slow and painful.
Lunch couldn’t come fast enough, but it presented a new problem since they always ate their lunch around the counter. There were a couple chairs and a stool, and they always kicked back, laughing and joking and talking with Ms. Reva.
Only now Libby was sitting there. Blade seemed to be the only one who had a problem with it. Foster, obviously from the way he’d hung around her this morning, was fine with her. And Thad said a couple quick sentences before he dove into his lunch. There wasn’t too much that got between Thad and his food.
Blade had been hungry just a couple minutes ago, but now the idea of eating a sandwich felt like he might as well shove sawdust in his mouth. He’d walked over to the counter, but he hadn’t sat down on his normal stool.
Foster said something too low for Blade to hear, and Libby giggled.
His veins felt hot, and his stomach balled up. There was no way he was going to eat. He couldn’t stand to see Foster and Libby giggling and laughing with each other.
“I’m going to take a walk.” His lunch bucket smacked the counter with a sound that echoed off the walls and reverberated around the large room. He didn’t stop to see what anyone’s reactions were, and he didn’t really care what they thought. He needed to get out for a bit. So he strode to the door. He was about six feet away from it when it opened, and Clarice stepped in.
There’d been a few times over the last few months when she’d stopped in at lunchtime. She worked at the beauty salon across the street. They’d gone out a few times.
“Blade. Just the person I was looking for.” Her hair was short and spiky with just a tint of blue to it. And her eyelashes seemed extra long. Her smile was knowing. He jerked his head in acknowledgment.
“I’m going for a walk.” But he slowed down, because he figured it’d be rude to blow by her.
“I’ll go with you. Did you already eat?” Her gaze skimmed around the garage, and he could easily tell when she saw Libby sitting behind the counter. Because her eyes tripped, went back, and widened.
Then they came back to him, fluttered. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to have a little bit of attention.
“No.”
“Then we can find ourselves a park bench and share my lunch.” She held up a bag from the convenience store down the street on the corner.
“Sounds good.” He didn’t see how he could get out of that without being rude. Clarice and he had lunch off and on. He’d taken her out a few times. There wasn’t anything between them. Not on his end. And he didn’t plan on there being anything. Because he didn’t trust women.
Maybe once he got away from Libby, his appetite would come back. And it was a nice day out. He’d rather eat outside anyway.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
He opened the door and stood back, allowing Clarice to walk through. For some odd reason, he wanted to look over at the counter to see the reaction as he left. Not, of course, the reaction of his brothers. He wanted to see Libby.
But he didn’t turn his head, and he followed Clarice out the door.
Chapter 6
Libby finished typing the purchase order into the computer. After three days of working, she was finally getting the hang of things. Nothing that she did was super hard; it was just tough learning the ropes. She was starting to feel comfortable.
With everything except for Blade.
He and Clarice had gone out for lunch every day since Libby started. Not that Libby was paying attention.
It was kind of hard not to see Clarice come in right at lunchtime, and watch Blade walk out with her. It had been really nice out, and Libby might have gone outside to eat her lunch as well.
But she didn’t want to have to watch Blade walk out with another girl nor watch them eat together. Not that she particularly liked Blade.
Okay. Not that she had any reason to like Blade. She didn’t. But that didn’t stop her eyes from following him when he moved across the shop. Or her stomach from curling when she smelled the scent that was distinctly his. Or her heart from thumping when he came over to the counter, which he didn’t do if he could help it, it seemed like.
Currently, he was over in the far bay, welding a frame. Not that Libby was keeping tabs on him.
After the first day, when Libby realized that she wouldn’t be working constantly without any downtime, she had brought a book of flower arrangements she could study when she had a few minutes.
She got that out now since she was caught up on the paperwork and there were no customers.
She hadn’t gotten past figuring out the first design when the door opened, and Shirl Whitten, who went to Libby’s church, walked in.
Shirl held tight to the hand of her five-year-old son, Russell, like she was afraid Russell would run off and be corrupted if she loosened her hold.
Her eyes darted around the shop, like she was walking into a haunted forest and danger lurked around every broken piece of equipment that needed to be welded.
Libby put her bookmark back in her book, closed it, and put it under the counter. She put on a reassuring smile and said, “Hello, Shirl. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here today. Do you need something welded?”
Shirl’s eyes darted around the shop once more before she hurried to the counter, dragging her son behind her.
“The rumors are true. You really are working here.” She leaned across the counter a little, her voice coming out in a shocked whisper. “My mother spoke with Haley Blackstone whose daughter got her hair done at the salon across the street. Clarice has been her beautician forever. At least ten years. Since Clarice graduated from beauty school.” Here, Shirl relaxed a little and waved her arm. “I’m so glad Clarice finally got her life together, after she ran off with that Heinz Duncan before they graduated from high school. And she had to get her GED. And her mother was just in a tizzy. You’d’a thought the girl broke into the First National Bank and stole Harrison Gladwell’s bust.”
Libby nodded, her smile still in place. It always was a little difficult to get a word in edgewise when Shirl was talking. If she was really lucky, she might not have to say anything.
But Libby didn’t really believe in luck, and Shirl seemed to remember she was here to get gossip, not give it.
“So what are you doing?” Shirl gave the shop another covert glance before leaning into Libby like Libby was about to hand over her great-great-grandmother’s apple pie recipe.
Not likely.
“I’m working.”
Shirl rolled her eyes. “I can see that. Why? Isn’t it a little...rough for you in here? I mean these guys aren’t exactly your type, and that one was imprisoned for three years. He’s a registered,” if possible, Shirl’s voice got even lower, and she looked both ways before she said, “S-E-X offender.” She glanced down at her son, who was looking around the shop with big eyes.
Libby almost offered to let Russell ride one of the creepers while he waited. But she kinda figured that Shirl would be horrified. The creeper probably did have some grease on it, and she didn’t have a helmet. Both issues would probably offend Shirl.
Thinking about the boy, and creepers, hadn’t calmed the irritation that had climbed up in Libby’s throat. She hated the judgmental attitude. Although a sex offender was someone that she would want to keep her children away from, Shirl grew up in Peach Bottom and knew what had happened at the trial.
A man who was guilty just because a woman said he was wasn’t a man that she believed was dangerous.
She didn’t figure that was an argument she would win with Shirl, though. The whole town had already judged and found him guilty six years ago. She wasn’t going to right those wrongs herself now.
But she wasn’t going to change her mind either. Blade was innocent unless someone proved he was guilty.
“They’ve all been really nice to me.” And that was the honest truth. She felt more comfortable working here than she did in the church. Mistakes were better tolerated, and she didn’t feel like she had to live up to everyone’s expectations of her. The Truax boys didn’t have any expectations of her. At least, they didn’t seem to. They seemed grateful that she was working here and had treated her with nothing but the utmost respect.
All except Blade, who pretty much ignored her.
“I can imagine just how nice they’ve been to you,” Shirl said, emphasizing “nice.”
The irritation that Libby had never quite mastered burned hot in the back of her throat again.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean by that?” Libby kept her smile in place, but she was definitely only smiling on the outside.
“I mean,” Shirl hissed, “that I know exactly how men like this behave. I worked in a factory for one summer when I went to college. In the office, of course. Those men were hogs. And they certainly had no idea of how to treat a woman. I would far rather scrub toilets at McDonald’s than ever go through that again.” She gave a delicate sniff. “These men, these Truax boys, are just like those factory workers. I feel bad for you.” Shirl pursed her lips, and Libby believed she was sincere. “I could probably help you find a job, or maybe the church would give you more hours. Did you ask?”
“No.” Libby clasped her hands together. Shirl meant well, she was sure. But that didn’t keep Libby from being offended over her maligning of the Truax boys. The guys had been nothing but nice to her. “I really like working here. Thad and Foster treat me like a little sister.”
Shirl’s eyes got big, and she nodded knowingly. “It’s that other one, the one that was in jail, that you really have to watch out for.” She yanked on the hand of her little boy. “I certainly wouldn’t want children to be in here.”
Libby had had no plans of arguing with Shirl. She wasn’t good at arguing; she wasn’t good at any kind of confrontation. And she didn’t like them. But she hated the lady’s attitude. Blade didn’t deserve it, no matter how unkind he had been to her. “I followed the trial. You know my dad is a judge. It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t proven guilty. He should never have been convicted.”
From the way Shirl was looking at her, Libby might as well have said that she enjoyed decapitating kittens and stewing their little dead bodies with noodles and corn.
Still, Libby couldn’t find any desire in her heart to take back her words. They were true. Blade hadn’t been proven guilty. But he’d served the time nonetheless.
“It was your sister. I would think if anyone would know how awful that man is, it would be you. If anyone has reason to hate him and avoid him, you do. I can’t believe you’re working with them.”
“If I thought for one second he was guilty, it would be a different story.” Libby’s smile hadn’t slipped; it had fallen completely off her face and was lying on the floor somewhere. She wasn’t going to take the time right now to look for it. She put her hands down on the table fisted, both of them. And she glared at Shirl, who probably didn’t deserve it. She was just saying what the rest of the town believed too.
As the red haze slowly faded out of her peripheral vision, she realized Blade was standing at the end of the counter, parts order in his hand.
He wasn’t smiling. And his eyes were still dark, pinning her. But maybe there was just a little surprise in them too. She couldn’t tell for sure, since she didn’t really know him.
She breathed out slowly and took another cleansing breath before swallowing and erasing the glare from her face. She reached out to take the paper.
“Thank you. I’ll get this typed up. This is for Harbaugh’s frame, correct?” She tried to pull the paper back, but he didn’t let go of it.
Their eyes caught.
“Yeah.” It was one word, but it wasn’t as clipped as everything else he’d ever said to her was.
It made her wonder how much of the conversation he’d heard.
For some reason, it made her feel uncomfortable to think that he not only knew what she believed but heard her defending him.
She wasn’t sure, exactly, what that said about her and her feelings about Blade. At one point, a long time ago, she fancied herself a little in love with him.
But that was understandable, since he’d been considered quite a catch, and he’d given a physically-challenged girl more attention than she’d ever gotten from a boy before in her life. Of course, she was in love with him. And of course, he was just being nice.
She hadn’t been under any illusions then, and she wasn’t under any now.
She knew what he saw in her face, but his eyes hardened.
“See i
f you can’t get this one put in right,” he said, referring to the fact that every one she’d done so far had at least one error in it. Maybe eventually, she’d have the PO numbers memorized. For now, she’d started double-checking every single one she put in since she had a tendency to mix numbers up.
He pulled the paper out of her hand and slapped it down on the counter. He didn’t look at Shirl or her son before he strode off, arrogant and cocky.
Libby didn’t have any idea what she’d done that had set him off. Actually, probably she hadn’t done anything. That’s pretty much the way he had treated her since she started three days ago.
Shirl’s head turned, and she watched him walk away. The woman might be married with a five-year-old son, but she wasn’t just watching him to wait until he got out of earshot. There was a lot to admire on the backside of that.
Libby took the paper that Blade set on the counter and turned toward the computer.
It was a good three seconds until Shirl turned back to her. “That man looks as good as he always has, but I don’t know how you can put up with someone that mean. And I don’t know how you can defend him either. I’ll try not to say anything about this at church.” She added that last bit as though as an afterthought.
It didn’t fool Libby.
Shirl raised her brows, almost like a warning, before she gave her chin a jerk and turned, striding out and dragging her son along behind.
Libby gave her stomach a few seconds to settle down before she turned back to the computer to continue working.
The feeling she needed to control was mostly anger. There was a curl of apprehension. A little twist. She didn’t want to lose her job at the church. And she didn’t really think she would, no matter what Shirl Whitten told everyone. But humans had a tendency to do the crowd mentality thing. Whether they were church members or not. To lynch someone. The way Blade had been lynched when her sister made her accusation. Libby could be lynched the same way. For hanging out with him. Even though she was working here, not socializing, and she couldn’t even say Blade was a friend.
The Bad Boy's Forever Girl Page 5