Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3)

“I can give you the money.”

“Are you nuts? Hell no! Then all my hard work would’ve been for nothing. No. I’m so close. So close.”

“You didn’t get mad when you found out about the job at The Yard.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“I know I’m qualified for that job and I’m a hard worker. You couldn’t go wrong with someone like me.”

I nodded. “You’re more than qualified for that job.”

She grinned at me, then took a couple more bites of her sandwich, nodding in approval. “Not bad, Bigfoot.”

I grabbed her bottled water, tipped it to my mouth so she wouldn’t see my smile, and almost spilled.

She chewed for a minute. I knew she was busy contemplating something. Kara didn’t think quietly. Her face showed her emotions.

“Everyone is asking me why I work so hard. The people at work gossip about me, talking about why I do so much overtime and where my money goes. I don’t care. I can take all that. I’ve been bullied worse than that when I was younger. They think they can stop me, hurt me with harsh words, they better think again. I’m made of steel, baby. Steel. I’ve had worse, and that mean-girl bullying shit sure as hell won’t get to me.”

“They’re gossiping about you because you work hard?”

“I have seniority over them. When there’s OT available, I take it. Almost all the time. So they’re mad at me because they can’t. They think I’m a bitch, and you know what? I don’t give a crap. I don’t have time to join them at gatherings outside work either because I have a lot of shit to do. So on top of being a bitch, I heard I’m also a snob. Yummy. Get over it, bitches.”

I let out a small laugh. She was on a roll. I loved seeing the sparkle in her eyes, the fire and passion that always came out in everything she did.

“In my extended family, Dylan and I are the only ones who don’t have a degree. My dad doesn’t either. My mother running away with another man was the icing on the cake. So most of my relatives look down on us. I detest family dinners with them—especially with my dad’s brother, Andrew. They all feel superior. I hate condescending advice masked as concern and fake love. It’s so cheap. It’s crap. I reject it.”

I know, I thought but didn’t say anything.

She continued, “That breaks my dad’s heart because he loves those assholes. And it hurts me because I love my dad so much. Degrees and money could be useful, but they don’t buy morals or values or a heart. I get up every morning and force myself to work because I see that amazing man, my dad, working harder than anyone I’ve ever met from his family. I respect the hell out of him. I want to be like him.” Her voice cracked. “I work hard not because I want to prove to everyone that I can do it. I work hard because I want to prove to myself that I can do it. And I will. I can save my family from this. Money has always been tight. I can help my dad out. I can give him what he deserves. Dylan too. He’s always been a softie, and he takes it hard when people say bad things about my family. There are so many things that could stop me if I let them.”

She lowered her eyes and took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to mine. “But I can’t let anything bother me—I won’t. Because I don’t want to sacrifice my world just to be in other people’s. I want my own world, filled with all the people I care about.”

I watched her silently as she finished her sandwich, sipped water, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Like a little kid.

But she was a woman. A woman with the heart of a child. A child who wore her heart on her sleeve but had learned to protect it with thorns.

Was it a wonder why no matter how hard I tried to let her go, I couldn’t? Why I wanted desperately to be in her world?

“Kara,” I said gruffly. “Am I in it?”

She looked up, and our eyes met and held. Everything that I wanted, without knowing I had wanted it, was in her eyes.

“You know you are, Cam,” she whispered. “You just hid from me for a while. But you’re here now.”

I stepped forward. She wrapped her legs around my waist. I placed my hands on the small of her back, pulling her closer to me.

“I am,” I murmured. “I want to…stay.”

“Then stay.”

She rested her chin on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around my torso. “But I want you to do something for me.”

Anything. ?

?What is it?”