“That’s not what I meant. It’s not that I don’t want it; it’s just that… I know you had it fixed for Killyama, and now she’s making you give it to me.”
A stern-faced Train had T.A. nervously wiping her palms on the side of her bright-blue sweater dress while trying to keep her expression indifferent to whether he left the car or not. It was difficult to pretend she didn’t give a damn in front of Sex Piston and Crazy Bitch when they knew the truth. She hated the fact even Fat Louise could out-bitch her when she wanted to.
“I fixed the car for Killyama; it’s her car. I don’t ask permission when I do something for a friend, and I don’t expect her to. You have a problem taking the car from Killyama, take it up with her. I would wait until she’s had the baby though; she’s not in the best of moods right now.”
Concerned for her friend, she came from behind the counter. “Are she and the baby all right? She texted an hour ago that she was released from the hospital. If she needs something, I could—”
Train raised a hand to stop her rambling. “Killyama’s fine. She’s on bed rest.”
“Oh shit.” She reached out to pat him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Train laughed. “I’m good, but if you could wait until she’s in a better mood to argue about keeping the car, I would appreciate it.”
She wasn’t exactly anxious to get in a bitch fight with Killyama if she was already in a bad mood.
“I can do that.” T.A. nodded in agreement. Going back behind the counter, she reached for a bag that Stud had brought in from her car before taking it. “Give her that. I bought her a movie and got her a gift card for Kings restaurant. She loves his steaks.”
Train took the bag from her. “I’ll give it to her when I get home.”
“Thanks, Train.” She stared meaningfully into his eyes, letting him know she was thanking him for the car and not for delivering the bag.
His mouth opened and closed, as if debating accepting her gratitude.
He took a full minute before he responded, “You’re welcome.”
She was about to ask Shade how Lily was doing with the preparations of the food baskets she was organizing for the needy families in Treepoint for Thanksgiving when her cell phone rang.
Sex Piston handed her the phone over the counter. Frowning, T.A. almost didn’t accept the call because the number was unfamiliar.
“Hello?” she asked.
“T.A.?”
Her heart stopped beating at the sound of the voice that came through her phone. Conscious that Sex Piston was watching, she moved away from the others, hurrying toward the back to the supply room.
“Are you there?”
“I’m here,” she replied, closing the door once she was inside. “Dalton?”
“Yes, Dax gave me your number.”
She was so nervous at the unexpected call, she held the phone closer to her ear, afraid she would drop it onto the floor.
“I’m glad you called.”
“You are?”
“Of course, that’s why I gave Dax my number.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that shit out. “I liked talking to you.”
T.A. wanted to kick herself as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She sounded like a starstruck ninny. Dalton wasn’t like most of the men she had come in contact with. She should be playing hard to get.
“I was hoping you could do a favor for me?”
“Sure.” She hoped like hell it wasn’t for her to take her top off. Even over the phone a woman had to have some standards.
“Dax left a jacket at the Last Riders. Would it be possible for you to retrieve it for him? You could give it to Sex Piston, and Dax could get it back when we come in for Thanksgiving.”
The impersonal reason for the call crushed any hopes he phoned her because he had been interested in her. She should have known better.
“I can do that.” Matter-of-factly, she agreed. “I’ll text you when I have it.”
Not caring if she talked to him any longer, she went to the washing machine and started a load of towels that were used on the customers.
“Thank you. I’ll reimburse you for the time and gas. I—”
“Dalton, go fuck yourself.”
T.A. angrily disconnected the call, rapidly blinking back the tears that were forming behind her lids.
“You’re such a stupid, stupid bitch.” She was berating herself, reaching for the doorknob when her phone started ringing again.
“If you don’t want to get the jacket, that’s okay. I just thought I’d ask.”
This dude really couldn’t be that clueless, could he? Obviously, he was because he didn’t shut up.
“My intention wasn’t to make you angry.”
T.A. rolled her eyes even though Dalton couldn’t see.
“Stop right there. I’m not angry because you asked me to get Dax’s jacket. I’m angry because you offered to reimburse me. You might have just stayed in Kentucky for a couple of days, but that was long enough to learn about southern hospitality.” Deciding to go ahead and finish making a complete fool of herself, she threw out what had made her even more furious. “Around here, a favor is a favor. We don’t pay for it, and just so you fucking know, when a man calls a woman for the very first time, it isn’t to ask for a favor; it’s to tell them how smoking hot they looked, or like, I don’t know, ask them out on a date? Or something…” She trailed off, disappointment filling her as the excitement of his calling had fled to be replaced with a tumult of emotions that had her wanting to rip him another a-hole.