Miss ~ Harloe Rae

by Rae, Harloe

  “But this has been okay?” I clarify, and she nods.

  Before I can push farther, Addison asks, “Wanna go to the bathroom, D?”

  Delilah squints one eye while considering. “Yeah, sure.”

  Raven resurfaces from Trey-land. “I’ll come.”

  He chuckles. “Travel in packs. Fucking pack animals.”

  She flicks him. “You’d feel really bad if I slipped and fell without anyone there to save me.”

  Trey gives her a look. “Because that’s why you all go together.”

  Ravens hops off her seat and waves him off. “We’ll never share our secrets.”

  They link arms and giggle while disappearing into the crowd. I finish off my beer and feel when Trey’s attention turns to me. We exchange silent glares, neither backing down from whatever the hell this standoff is about. He jabs a thumb toward the parking lot, and I can only imagine what he’s going to spew.

  “Krue, your truck sounds like shit.”

  “How the hell do you know?”

  “Is that a joke? I can hear that rusted pile of junk coming from a mile away.”

  I clack my teeth together. “Get some earplugs. We can’t all afford to buy brand new,” I say, referring to the shiny pickup he’s been driving. That beast is hard to fucking miss in this town.

  Trey glances down, maybe pondering that possibility. “Bring it by Jacked Up,” he offers.

  I lean back in my chair. “No, thanks. I’ll pass.”

  Trey grunts. “Too good for my garage?”

  “Last I recall, as in twenty minutes ago, we hate each other. Why the fuck would you help me?”

  He lifts a shoulder. “Water under the bridge. We’re solid.”

  I send him a look. “The hell we are.”

  “Don’t be a dick, Krue. We’ll be seeing plenty of each other if you’re planning to date D again. I’m not going anywhere. Raven has promised me forever. What’s your status?” he asks with a sneer.

  He’s getting under my skin, needling me with sharp barbs. But I’m not giving the reaction he’s aiming for. “Still an asshole, huh?”

  “Meh, not as bad since Raven came around. But this leopard didn’t lose his spots.” He smirks.

  “Hope she catches those true colors of yours.”

  “Not sure why I’m wasting breath on you,” he mutters while standing up.

  I tense in preparation for his next move. “Good fucking question.”

  Trey surprises me by walking away from the table, effectively ending the conversation. Fine by me. I’m about to order another drink when Delilah weaves through the throng. The altercation with Trey vanishes as I get lost in a haze of blonde hair and seductive curves. She hovers in my space and smiles, but doesn’t say anything. A sense of peace settles in my gut as I soak in her warmth. Something needs to give, or I’ll maul her.

  I jerk my chin in the direction Trey went. “That guy? Really?”

  Delilah huffs. “Raven loves him. He’s grown on me. A little.” She shows a sliver of space between her thumb and finger.

  “For real? What the hell?” I demand.

  “He’s not so bad once you get to know the real him.”

  I peer into her green gaze. “Did he brainwash you or something?”

  She laughs and rolls her eyes. “I was a super bitch to him when they started messing around. It was wrong of me, and I realized that . . . eventually. Give him a chance.”

  “Do you have more of those to hand out?” I ask, forgetting about Trey altogether.

  An adorable crease forms between her brows. “Huh?”

  “Chances. I could use one.”

  “What do you call this?” she says and motions between us.

  I pretend to think on that, but can hardly stop a smile from forming. “A decent start?”

  Delilah bites her lip. “Well,” she starts and shifts closer. “Wanna check out the rooftop?”

  The sprouting hope grows a bit taller inside me. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  INTENTIONS

  Zeke

  I PARK MY ass on the row of concrete blocks and take another enormous bite of pizza. Devon was kind enough to order lunch, and I’m not letting any go to waste. I take a huge gulp of soda and sigh as the cold liquid relieves my throat. A dessert from Jitters is the only thing that would make this meal better.

  “Holy shit, are you smiling?” Lewis shouts out of nowhere.

  My expression falls away when he plops down beside me. “Not sure what you’re talking about,” I grumble with my mouth full.

  “Ah, hell. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. Don’t stop on my account.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re a dick. Any reason you’re interrupting me? You should focus on eating or get back to work.”

  Lewis grips my shoulder. “I miss you, man. You’re not around the cabin as much. Is that blonde honey keeping you busy?”

  I drop the half-eaten slice on my plate and fix him with a glare. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

  His eyes expand, showing far too much white. “Oh, shit. This is serious, huh?”

  I turn away with a scowl, returning to my food. “Pretty sure there’s a better use for your break than all this talking.”

  “Dude, this is friendly conversation. Does your girl have hot gal-pals?”

  My stomach lurches, and the reaction is not from the greasy goodness. Could Delilah be mine again? The thought gives me pause, but then I remember what Lewis asked.

  “If she does, I wouldn’t set you up with them.”

  “What the hell? We’re friends. You’re supposed to be my wingman.”

  I snort. “Not likely. You just want a quick fuck. Do you honestly think I’d hook one of Delilah’s friends into a situation like that? Pretty sure it wouldn’t go over well.”

  Lewis lowers his chin, appraising me with cool eyes. “How is that different from what you’re doing? We’re in the same position, my man. When the job is done, we move on.”

  His words are a cruel smack to an already sensitive subject, and I try not to wince. Thinking about leaving is a dull blade slicing into my wounded flesh, but that’s reality. After my discussion with Delilah at Boomers, it doesn’t seem like she cares if I stay or go. But that could be an act.

  I stay silent, feeding Lewis’s assumptions. “That’s what I thought,” he says. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping her bed warm while you’re in town—”

  “It will never be that way with her,” I cut in. My low tone is full of warning, and he takes the hint.

  He nods. “Of course not. My bad, Zeke.”

  Rather than responding, I stew in silent fury. I finish off my lunch, but all the joy is gone. All I taste is wasted time and opportunities. Fucking Lewis and his big mouth ruin everything.

  Before I can storm off to my station, Devon ambles over. “Great work today, guys. Concrete is shit work but you make it look easy. Even in this heat, we’re ahead of schedule.”

  “Thanks, boss,” I say and shake off the suffocating pressure that’s closing in.

  “Yeah,” Lewis agrees. “Appreciate that, Dev.”

  Devon turns his sole focus on me, his weathered skin wrinkling with a grin. “Other than arguing with Lewis, you seem to be in decent spirits.”

  I give him a bland stare, blinking slowly. “What do you mean?”

  He claps my back a few times. “I’m aware of your reservations regarding Garden Grove, but this place has done wonders to you.” Devon pauses for a moment before adding, “Or maybe a certain someone has.”

  Lewis chuckles loudly next to me. I shoot him a scathing glare, telling him to keep his loud trap shut.

  “It’s her, not the town,” I finally admit after all. There’s no use denying it, and I don’t want to.

  Devon rubs his stubbled chin. “The pretty blonde, right? I’d change my attitude for her, too.” I grind my teeth, and he laughs, “Just joking, Zeke. She’s young enough to be my daughter.”

  My phone dings, an
d I’m thankful for the interruption. I stand and pull the cell from my pocket, tapping the screen.

  Trip: Hey, Zeke. Don’t mean to bug you, but I’ve got a favor.

  And just like that, my mood springs straight upward. A smile automatically lifts my lips as I quickly type a reply.

  Zeke: Good timing. I’m on lunch break. What’s up?

  Trip: Ugh, I hate to even ask. A shelf at Jitters broke, and it’s a serious eyesore. Is there any chance you could swing by after work?

  Lewis hoots. “Ah, the happiness returns. Must be your girl,” he says and wags his brows.

  “Fuck off,” I growl while calculating the hours until quitting time. Too damn many. I jab at the screen in frustration, but I’m hesitant to press send.

  “What’s she saying? Is there a problem?” Devon asks, seemingly aware of my irritation.

  I shrug and keep my chin tucked. “Something busted at her shop. She’s hoping I can fix it.”

  “Go ahead,” he offers without pause.

  My head whips toward him. “Now?” I ask. “I’ve got a whole afternoon shift left.”

  Devon scoffs. “What’re we doing? Waiting for concrete to settle. The other guys can finish smoothing shit out. You can take off early today. Not like you ever ask for anything.”

  I nod eagerly, knowing better than to question his generosity. I drag a sweaty palm against my filthy jeans while trying to piece a plan together. After appraising the condition of my work clothes, I realize taking a shower would be wise. I don’t want to waste precious moments, but showing up sweaty and dirty won’t grant me any leeway.

  “You’d think I just invited him on a private tour of the Playboy Mansion,” Devon jests and elbows Lewis.

  The barb doesn’t bug me in the slightest because all I hear is Delilah needing me. She sought me out when something went wrong. I’m the one she wants help from. True pride inflates me for the first time in years.

  I have to force my feet to slow down and walk off the property. After rounding the corner and out of sight, I begin to jog. If the guys caught me rushing off to Delilah, I’d never hear the fucking end of it. Not that I give a shit what they think or say, but hearing their constant jabs taunts my temper. I’m trying to change my ways, which includes keeping a lid on that shit.

  I’ve never been more grateful to be staying at The Mossy Den. The short block is no match for my fast stride. After a fast rinse, I throw on clean clothes and grab my keys. With new found purpose surging through me, I hop in my truck and drive to Jitters.

  When I walk through the door five minutes later, Delilah seems surprised to see me. She appraises me with wide green eyes from behind the counter. Her pouty lips are parted, and I imagine kissing her shock away. When she glances at my toolbox, a dimple instantly dents her cheek.

  “Hey,” she greets. “Didn’t expect to see you until much later.”

  I freeze in front of her. In my haste to hustle over here, I never responded to her last text. I scratch at the burn across my nape and exhale heavily.

  “Guess I forgot to mention Devon let me leave early,” I tell her with a grimace.

  Delilah giggles. “Zeke Kruegan, are you blushing?”

  I shove my fumbling hands deep into my pockets. Being called out by anyone else would be asinine, but I like Delilah noticing how she affects me. I ignore my scorching skin and shoot her a wink. “Maybe?”

  She sucks in sharply, a matching flush creeping up her neck. “You’re trouble.”

  “Thank you,” I mutter.

  Delilah sags against the display case while her lazy gaze slowly traces me. I take this moment to enjoy the beauty before me. Her long hair is swept up into a braided knot that looks complicated yet effortless. A few wisps frame her tan face, and I picture my finger wrapping around the tendrils. Delilah isn’t wearing much makeup. The familiar spattering of freckles on her nose are a map to better days. I press against a cramp in my chest that’s making it hard to breathe. The twitch in my hardening dick isn’t helping. She’s so damn gorgeous . . .

  Delilah suddenly straightens with a jolt. “Uh, about the shelf,” she croaks.

  I shake the lust from my brain. “Right, yeah.” I glance around the shop and notice the crooked beam along the wall. “Did the brackets come loose?”

  Her mouth twists. “I have no idea. All of a sudden it just . . . fell.”

  I nod. “Okay. Should be an easy fix. Wanna lend a hand?”

  “Of course. I really appreciate this, Zeke. Thanks for dropping by, especially on your free afternoon.” Delilah walks out from behind the counter and meets me under the lowered shelf.

  I wave her off. “No problem at all. What else am I good for, right?”

  “Fishing for compliments?”

  I shrug. “Never hurts to try.”

  She grips my forearm and gives me a squeeze. My eyes nearly cross from the shock of pressure blasting into me. One gentle touch from her is apparently all it takes and I’m ready to go.

  “You seem very . . . capable. I’m glad to have such a strong man on call,” Delilah coos.

  I cough into my fist, trying to get this stupid arousal under control. “Thanks.”

  She smirks. “My pleasure.”

  I focus on the task, running a palm over the splintered wood. “Looks like the screw split the board. Where did you get this?” I point to the shelf.

  “Oh, it’s reclaimed barn wood. I got some at a craft sale.”

  “Makes sense. Those materials can break down faster due to age. I have stronger bolts that won’t cause more damage,” I explain while searching through my tools.

  Her forehead scrunches as she watches me. “Sounds like a plan. I’m not good with this stuff.”

  “Who usually handles repairs for you?”

  “My dad is fairly handy. And Trey has done a few things in the kitchen for Raven.”

  “But now you have me.” It’s not a question, but I want Delilah’s confirmation.

  “I do,” she murmurs without hesitation. Her green gaze latches onto me, exchanging years of longing love with a single glance. I’m lost in this powerful grasp and my head dips lower. Delilah gasps, and I assume the trance is broken, but her face tilts up putting those delectable lips inches from my mouth. I feel her rapid exhales, the warm puffs giving me chills. I soak her in, shifting to close the gap when a loud crash explodes beside us.

  Delilah jumps, and I flinch, the noise effectively popping our bubble.

  “Shit,” she whispers. “That scared the hell outta me.”

  The guilty object rolls into a neighboring table. Thankfully, the canister is made of some kind of metal so it didn’t shatter. I reach down to pick it up and set it on an empty chair. I glare at the shiny cockblocker before facing Delilah again.

  “Close call,” I mutter.

  “Yeah,” she returns. That lovely blush is coloring her skin again.

  No more fucking funny business. Otherwise I’ll have blue-balls for a week.

  I clear my throat. “Can you hold this end while I get the bolts secured?”

  Delilah moves into position, hoisting the beam without much effort. It only takes a couple minutes for me to fasten the rivets and secure the shelf. I rattle the wood to make sure. It doesn’t budge.

  She whistles. “I’m impressed. Great job, carpenter.”

  I smile and wipe the specks of sawdust from my palms. “All in a day’s work. I’m more than willing to be on retainer for any repairs.”

  “Aw, thanks. We’ve been open less than two years, and everything is fairly new, so there shouldn’t be much. But it’s good to plan ahead.”

  I turn toward her after packing up. “What happened to Nova Tova? I thought that boutique did pretty well. Hell, you alone kept her in business.”

  Delilah sticks her tongue out. “She had cute stuff, so sue me. Georgina, the owner, had a better offer. Pretty sure she moved to Tantiga Park. Bigger city, more clients.”

  “Who lives upstairs?”

  “I
do,” she answers simply.

  A stream of late nights with her, closing up Jitters, flash before my eyes. We’d stumble to the loft after I’ve fucked her over every surface down here. Shit, that’s fucking hot. I yank on my shirt, the fever spreading like rapid fire.

  “That’s convenient,” I manage to choke out.

  Delilah gives me a funny look. “You all right?”

  I grip my throat. “I’ve got a little something stuck. No big deal.”

  “You sure? How about some water?” she offers and starts walking away before I can answer.

  “That sounds nice.”

  Delilah pours me a glass, and I step behind the display case to accept it. I’m tired of being separated by that damn counter. She doesn’t kick me out of her domain so I relax against the wall. I chug greedily and slide the empty mug along the glass top.

  She shuffles her feet, clad in pink flip-flops. “So, what do I owe you?”

  I jerk back slightly. “Seriously?”

  “You helped me out. I don’t wanna take advantage.

  “Trip, we’re square. Trust me.”

  “I have plenty of cupcakes or coffee?” Delilah prods.

  I bite my bottom lip. “A date sounds better.”

  She blinks quickly. Her mouth opens and closes several times, but no sound comes out. Finally she stammers, “Uh, well . . . I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “No pressure. We can grab a bite or some drinks, just as friends.” I tack on the last part to appease her, though it’s tough to spit out.

  Delilah studies me, maybe weighing the options. “Well, I’ll be busy with Garden Daze this weekend. After that?”

  My heart lurches at the possibility she’s handing me. I can’t agree fast enough. “Definitely. And I’ll see you there. We’ll make sure to stop by your booth.”

  She crosses her arms. “We?” I suspect a hint of jealousy in her tone, but it’s probably my imagination.

  “I’m going with Ryan on Saturday.”

  She grins. “Oh, it’ll be nice to see him.”

  A flicker of darkness skitters through my stomach. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”