Adjusting myself while she takes notes on a scrap of paper, I grasp for some equilibrium. I think I have it until she looks at me again, sending me off-kilter.

“This is Rusty Carmine. He said they have a welding issue at their warehouse. He said you usually send Peck out to fix it and that it’s urgent.”

“Yeah. Tell him he’ll be there,” I say, signaling for Peck. Before she gets off the phone, Peck is on his way to his truck.

Pouring a cup of coffee after finding the coffee pot that has been moved, I wait for her to finish the call. Once I hear the “goodbye,” I turn to face her.

“I’ve been keeping track of your hours,” I tell her.

“Good for you.” She ignores where I’m going and changes subjects instead. “What do you think of the place? Looks nice, huh?”

The floors aren’t quite as dirty as before. The place has a floral smell to it and there aren’t any towels spilling over the bin in the back. It looks nice.

“It’s okay,” I say, taking a sip.

“Okay?” she barks. “It’s more than okay! It’s a one-eighty from where it was.”

“I can’t find anything.”

“Because you don’t know how to look. Typical man,” she mumbles. “I clearly marked all the folders in here. You can find everything super easily.” She looks up at me. “I never thought I had it in me to like paperwork. Must’ve been buried deep in my genes.”

“I’d love to be buried in your jeans,” I say before I can think twice. Hoping she didn’t hear me, my gaze snaps to hers, but it’s obvious: she heard. Not only did she hear, she’s not going to let it go.

My blood hotter than the coffee in my hand, I pivot on my heel towards the garage.

“You would, would you?” she teases, her voice dangling in the air.

All I can think about is what she’d look like sprawled in my bed, her body pressed against mine, her breath hot against my flesh. Shaking my head, ridding myself of the delicious vision, I say, “I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

“So you’ve been thinking it?”

“Come on, Sienna,” I sigh.

She leans against the desk, her bottom lip protruding. “Why are you so grumpy?”

“Grumpy?” I laugh, grateful for the change in direction. “What are we? In kindergarten?”

“No. But it’s the best word to describe you. Grumpy. You’re grumpy.”

“I am not.”

“See? And argumentative. It’s a wonder I even show up here.”

It’s my turn to lean against the desk. There’s an honesty in the way she speaks, and an edge of class or sophistication, that, at the end of the day, is both the worst thing and best thing about her. It’s what people respond to—Nana, Peck . . . me. It’s what she responds to in me that I don’t understand. I surely don’t give her much to go on. Most women are out the door by now.

“Why do you show up here?” I ask.

The levity from her features melts away and a somberness takes its place. “Because I owe you.”

“Is that why?” I press, not able to fight the hope swelling inside me that it’s not. “What’s your story, Sienna?”

Her story isn’t one I need to know, and if she responds, it’ll just fuck me further. I need distance from this chick, not her family history.

This is the problem I knew from the beginning: dipping even a toe into this pool will drown us both.

“There you are.” The door swings open without warning, causing Sienna and I both to exhale sharply. “I have a giant problem, Walker, and I need your help.”

“What’s up, Stuart?” I ask, clearing my throat.

“The tractor went down on me this morning. I hauled her up here, hoping you can take a look at it. I know it’s a huge job and you have other stuff happening, but I’ll pay you double. You’re the best and I need this fixed by tomorrow morning. Is there any chance you can swing it?”

The garage bay is fairly empty, just the truck and a van in so far today.

“How many appointments are there today, Sienna?” I ask. “Do you know?”

She looks at a calendar and lifts her eyes. “You have two. A van and a car this afternoon, although a bunch of people said they’re walking in.”

“Yeah,” I say to Stuart, leading him outside. “Let’s get it in the shop and I’ll start on it in a bit. What’s it doing?”

As he goes ahead of me, rambling about the problems I should be paying attention to, instead, I focus on what’s becoming the biggest problem in my life.

I TURN THE KEY and my car’s engine roars to life outside of Goodman’s gas station. Getting situated in the driver’s seat, I buckle my seatbelt and get the radio set to a station playing upbeat and happy music.

Tags: Adriana Locke The Gibson Boys Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net