Fiona’s transmission had set her back a few days, but she was almost done. Which meant she’d be leaving soon. Probably tomorrow. Hell, maybe even today if she wanted to put some miles behind her.
I didn’t know how to feel about that.
As much as I liked my space—I lived and worked alone for a reason—I was getting used to her. The way she hummed along to the music while she worked. The way she smiled when she caught me looking at her. Hell, even the way she talked to her plants, weird as it was.
Was I actually going to miss her when she was gone?
Of course not.
Except… maybe I was.
Fuck, this was confusing.
And what had Luke wanted? I trusted him about as much as old Harvey Johnston trusted Tilikum’s squirrel gang—which was to say, not at all. He was up to something, and the thought that he might use Fiona to get back at me made me fucking furious.
But if she was leaving anyway, it probably wouldn’t matter.
I hiked down the trail while Sasquatch veered into the brush and back again, following his nose. We stayed out about an hour, long enough that the temperature started to drop as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
When we got back, I went into the shop and found Fiona with her feet sticking out from underneath her car. Pausing, I watched her for a moment. I could just see her arms working; it looked like she was reattaching the exhaust. There was something undeniably sexy about a woman getting her hands dirty under a car.
Especially this woman.
She rolled out from under the car. “Oh, hey. How was your walk?”
I tossed her a rag so she could wipe off her hands. “It was good.”
“Thanks.” She got up and glanced over her shoulder at her car. “Almost finished, although I don’t want to jinx it. I’m afraid if I say everything is fixed, the universe will come along and break something else.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Out of nowhere, a thought popped in my head: Ask her to dinner.
It made sense. It was getting late and I was hungry. She was probably hungry, too. We’d eaten meals together plenty of times since she’d been here.
But if I asked ahead of time, would she think it was a date?
Did I want it to be a date?
Of course I didn’t. I didn’t date anymore.
And she was leaving anyway.
A goodbye dinner, then?
Still no.
“I’m going to reinstall the shifter, then take it out for another test drive,” she said. “Shouldn’t take me too long. Crossing my fingers everything works.”
“It will. You’ve done a great job.”
Her lips twitched in a smile. “Thanks.”
“So, what did Luke want?” Jesus, why had I asked her that? It wasn’t any of my business.
She blinked, like she was surprised by my question. “Luke? Why?”
“Because…” What was I supposed to say? Because I don’t trust him and I think he’s up to something. “It’s just weird that he stopped to talk to you like that.”
“I told you, he said no hard feelings about the Pontiac.”
“That was it?”
She glanced away. “Mostly. Don’t worry about it. I know he’s your mortal enemy or whatever, but he was nice. We had a pleasant conversation and then your brothers showed up. Why are you so worried about it?”
Pleasant conversation? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “Because I wouldn’t put it past him to use you to try to get back at me.”
“So you’re saying you don’t think he meant it when he said he was impressed with how I turned the deal in our favor? You think he’s just trying to get in my good graces to somehow get back at you.”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know.” She crossed her arms. “You don’t think he was being genuine.”
Was he hitting on you? Did he ask you out? “I just think there’s more to it than you’re admitting.”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
You’re right, it’s not. But if he touches you, I’ll rip his face off. “I’m just—”
“Since when do I have to tell you everything, anyway? It’s not like you told me you were seeing someone.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Even if you guys aren’t serious yet, you should have mentioned it.”
“Mentioned what?”
“Jill.” She flung the name at me like an accusation.
“Fuck,” I muttered. Hearing her name made my hackles rise. I was well aware that Jill was a problem I’d created—that my attempt to fuck with Luke by kissing her in front of him was coming back to bite me in the ass. But like hell was I going to admit it. “That isn’t what you think.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but it sure would have been nice to know, especially considering we shared a motel room.”
“I am not dating Jill.”
“Whatever, it’s fine if you are. You’re allowed to date whoever you want, just like I’m allowed to talk to whoever I want, even if they’re on the other side of some feud that makes no sense.”
“I don’t give a shit about the feud. Luke’s an asshole who never misses an opportunity to fuck with my business.” And I’m afraid he’s going to try to take you from me.
Whoa. Where the fuck had that come from?
Thankfully, I hadn’t said that last part out loud.
And what was I worried about, anyway? Fiona wasn’t staying.
That thought didn’t make me feel any better.
“Okay, fine,” she said.
I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Not Jill or Luke or any of it. Every word out of her mouth twisted my insides. I didn’t like it. “I have work to do.”
She didn’t say anything when I went to the other side of the shop. Sasquatch stayed with her, traitor dog that he was. He’d probably try to jump in her car when it was time for her to go.
Why did the thought of her leaving have me so knotted up? I’d known her for a little more than a week. That was almost nothing.
All these fucking feelings were precisely why I was alone.
Ignoring her, I tried to focus on the Pontiac. I had so much to do, I didn’t need any more distractions. It would be better when she was gone. I could fucking work in peace.
So I was only vaguely aware of the sound of her working. I put it out of my mind when she lowered the jacks—she must have been done—got in, and started the engine. And I absolutely did not pay attention as she drove out of the garage.
She came back about twenty minutes later—not that I’d noted the time—and parked outside. Which probably meant the test drive had gone well. Her car was finished. She could finally go.
Good. It was for the best.
Sasquatch greeted her with a friendly sniff when she came back into the garage. She crouched down to pet him, murmuring something that I couldn’t hear.
“Evan?”
I glanced at her, a knot sitting in the pit of my stomach. Let’s just get this goodbye over with. Then life can go back to normal.
Her phone rang, interrupting whatever she’d been about to say. She slipped it out of her pocket, her forehead creasing when she looked at the screen.
“Hang on.” She swiped to answer and put the phone to her ear. “Dad?”
A prickle crawled up my back and my muscles tensed. Without conscious thought, I found myself moving toward her, crossing the distance with slow steps.
She shifted so she was facing the open garage door. “I already told you, I quit.”
“You can’t quit,” he said.
His voice was loud; I could hear him clearly. It wasn’t my business, and I shouldn’t have been listening. But I couldn’t make myself walk away.
“Yes, I can,” she said. “I can and I did.”
“You’ve been gone for a goddamn week and things are chaos around here. Stop acting like a child and get your ass back t
o work.”
“I’m not acting like a child. I’m doing what’s right for me. I’m sorry you can’t handle that.”
“You’re just like your damn mother.”
Fiona stiffened. “Dad, that’s not fair.”
“Not fair is walking out on your family’s business and leaving me high and dry. Jesus, Fiona, I have enough on my plate right now without this place falling apart.”
“Why is it falling apart? You still have Simone. She was never busy anyway; she should have plenty of time to pick up the slack.”
“You and I both know Simone isn’t smart enough for… pretty much anything.”
Her mouth dropped open. “God, Dad. Do you even hear yourself? Simone’s your… She was… And you were…”
“Don’t worry about Simone. She’s not important. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. I need you back here.”
She paused and a sickening thought rolled through my mind. What if she went back?
I ground my teeth together in frustration. Sure, I had my reasons for disliking—and more importantly, distrusting—her father. But that wasn’t what was pissing me off. I didn’t know the details of why she’d left, but she’d packed up and walked out on her entire life. This guy was at least part of the reason. And now he was trying to get her to go back.
None of this was okay.
“I’m sure you’re under a great deal of pressure,” Fiona said, her tone going icy cold. “Who’s after you now? Cops? FBI?”
“Fiona,” he snapped.
“I know you have some shady side hustle going on with Felix Orman again.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, Dad. You got an email from him just before I left. I saw it.”
“That’s none of your goddamn business.”
I clenched my hands into fists.
“You’re right, it’s not. Because I don’t work for you anymore. So whatever you have going with Felix, you’re just going to have to clean up the mess yourself.”
“You want to see me go to prison?” he spat. “Is that it? After everything I’ve done for you?”
“Of course not. But if you do, it won’t be my fault. I’ve been trying to keep you out of trouble for years.” Her voice started to break. “I’m not doing it anymore.”
She jammed her finger on the screen to end the call.
I stood there, staring at her, unable to move. I wanted to kick her dad in the teeth. Or gather her in my arms and hold her.
Maybe both.
She turned to look at me, her eyes filling with tears. She was on the verge of breaking, of falling apart right here in my shop.
I could have swooped in. Wrapped her in my arms and held her together.
But I didn’t. Like an idiot, I hesitated, and a heartbeat later, the moment was gone.
Straightening her spine, she sniffed and wiped beneath her eyes. Without a word, she walked out.
Fuck.
A few minutes later, she came out of my house with her backpack hanging from one shoulder, her houseplants tucked under each arm. I watched, helplessly—stupidly—while she packed up her car.
Only half aware that I was moving, I went outside. She stood next to her open driver’s side door.
“I’m finished, so I’ll get out of your way,” she said, her voice quavering slightly. “You’ve more than held up your end of the deal. So thank you.”
I nodded. My mouth wouldn’t move, my throat closed off. I needed to say something to her, but what? “Thanks for your help with the Pontiac.”
That was it? That’s what I was going to say?
Her bottom lip trembled. “Yeah. No problem.”
My chest constricted. God, I was so fucking angry. At her father. At Luke. Hell, even at Jill.
But mostly I was angry at myself. Angry at the feelings that thrummed through me, twisting me up inside. I’d spent years avoiding attachments to anyone because this was always what I got for my trouble. Uncertainty and pain.
Let her go, Evan. Let her go, and this will all go away.
So I did.
She got in her car. And I went inside.
18
Evan
The ache in my chest didn’t go away.
Hours passed. I worked on the Pontiac, then closed up the shop for the night. Ate dinner by myself. Answered a text from Logan, if only to make sure he didn’t decide to come out here and annoy me for not answering. Watched TV.
And I didn’t miss her.
Except that was too big of a lie to convince myself it was true. I just didn’t want to miss her.
Sasquatch wasn’t helping. My traitor dog had spent the evening moping around like a lost puppy. Now he sat curled up in the opposite corner of the couch with his ears drooping.
“Really? You’re just going to mope over there all night?”
He let out a whine.
I took a drink of my beer. “She was here for what, eight days? You got that attached to her?”
His ears drooped lower.
“Yeah, I know. I kind of did too.”
It was the weirdest fucking thing. She’d crash-landed in my life just over a week ago, and I was moping around as badly as my dog.
Pathetic.
But I deserved to feel like shit. She’d been upset, and I’d been too caught up in my own stupid feelings to do anything about it. What kind of man was I?
An idiot.
I let out a long breath. I was still confused. Why did this matter to me so much? She was upset, so what? Her shitty father wasn’t my problem.
Except that despite the fact that I’d been kind of a dick to her, we’d become friends. I was reluctant to admit it, but it was true. Those hours we’d spent on the road had forged a fast friendship.
Which meant I cared about her.
Precisely what I’d been trying to avoid.
And yet, here I was.
“Fine.” I put down my beer and grabbed my phone. “I’ll text her and see if she’s okay.”
With my thumbs poised over the screen, I hesitated. What should I say?
I heard what your dad said on the phone, and—
No. Delete.
Fiona, I wish I had—
Nope. Delete again.
I’m sorry I didn’t—
No again. Delete. What the fuck was wrong with me?
Just checking in to see if you’re okay.
There. Good enough.
Her reply came through a couple of minutes later. Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.
She was okay… which was good. Unless she wasn’t and didn’t want to tell me. And her reply gave me no useful information, like where she was or what she was doing. Whether she had a safe place to stay tonight. Had she left town? Was she already on her way to Iowa? Maybe I should have asked her something more specific.
Fuck.
I tossed my phone on the couch next to me. Now I was really being an idiot.
After finishing my beer, I watched TV until I felt sleep tugging at my eyelids. I went to bed, hoping I’d feel better—or just less—in the morning.
With sharp intake of breath, I opened my eyes to the darkness of my bedroom.
Why was I awake?
I listened for a long moment. Silence. I didn’t even hear Sasquatch walking around. Apparently whatever had woken me hadn’t roused him.
I’d probably been dreaming.
My mouth was dry, so I got up and shuffled to the kitchen to get some water. Still no Sasquatch, which was weird. Normally if I got up in the night, he’d come investigate.
Chill air brushed my bare shoulders and chest. Why was it so cold in here? Had I left a window open or something?
I put the glass in the sink and went to the living room to check the windows. All closed, but I still felt a cold draft. And where was my dog?
“Sasquatch?”
Usually he alternated between sleeping in my room and on his dog bed in the living room, but I didn’t see
him anywhere.
With a growing sense of alarm, I checked the front door. Shut and locked. The spare bedroom was closed, as usual, so he wasn’t in there.
A gust of cool air wafted across my skin and I heard the creak of hinges.
The back door was slightly ajar. He must have gotten out. How the fuck had that happened?
With a groan, I stepped out into the chill night air. “Sasquatch?”
I’d always wondered if he’d figure out how to work the latch on the back door. He was too damn smart.
“Sasquatch, come,” I bellowed into the darkness.
He never ran off. Where the hell was he?
I was about to check the spare bedroom—I always kept the door closed, but just in case—when I heard a sharp bark coming from the tree line.
Sasquatch ran toward me, then did a U-turn and darted toward the trees. He circled back, running hard, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He brushed past my legs and ran away from me again.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He repeated the pattern, like he wanted me to follow him.
“Who are you trying to be, fucking Lassie? Did someone fall down a well?”
He stopped near the trees again and looked at me.
Something had him all riled up. I’d never seen him behave like this before.
“Sasquatch, I’m not wearing any clothes.”
That was apparently an unimportant detail. He ran to me, then toward the trees again.
“Fine. Hold on.”
I ducked back inside to tug on a pair of sweats and a flannel. I didn’t bother with the buttons, just slipped it on, shoved my feet into a pair of shoes, and grabbed a flashlight.
Sasquatch was still waiting for me by the trees. My property extended pretty far up the mountainside, and my brothers and I had cleared a winding maze of dirt bike trails. Sasquatch darted though the woods until he met up with the trail, then turned downhill. He ran ahead, then circled back, as if to be certain I was still following him.
I was still half asleep, but starting to realize I was following my dog into the woods in the middle of the night with nothing on me but a flashlight. Not exactly my smartest move.
Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3) Page 13