“Oh,” I murmured, at a loss for what to say.
“Yeah.” She nodded.
And now things were officially awkward. I didn’t want to hate Kylie. I had no reason to. But a part of me still resented her simply because she got an entire year with him. A year of his touch, his body. But never his kiss. A kiss he’d given freely to me without even asking.
What did that mean?
As I was trying to figure it out, the front door opened, and the man in question appeared. He looked tired and disheveled; his beard obviously whipped from the wind on his bike. As my eyes drifted up his body, I noticed his were on me. Nobody said a word, even after a full minute had passed since he’d made his presence known.
“Is that all you need from me, boss?” Trouble’s voice cut through the silence.
He nodded, and I forced myself to break eye contact to look at Trouble. “I’m going to bed. So I guess I’ll probably see you around?”
“You will.” She offered me a smile. “Pretty much guaranteed.”
I used the opportunity of her pending departure and brief conversation with Huck to slip down the hall and into my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and turned on my nightlight before using the dimmer switch to turn the lights off myself.
Climbing into bed, I waited anxiously to see if Ace would make an appearance before he disappeared into his own room. His boots echoed down the hall, pausing at my door for a minute, but he never turned the knob. Instead, I heard the lock click into place before he continued, wordlessly.
No surprise, sleep never came for me that night.
AS I EXPECTED, HUCK WAS just as gruff and accommodating the next morning. Throughout breakfast and as he barked orders of what I needed to do next, I caught him staring at me. He had that same strained expression from the first time he met me. As though I was a puzzle his brain just couldn’t figure out. Regret lingered in his eyes, and I didn’t know if it was because of what happened or the fact he couldn’t rid himself of me.
I ate my breakfast and dressed in a mechanical fashion, careful to tuck a wad of cash and some cards into the zippered pocket of my jacket. I didn’t anticipate it being cold today, but I thought if Huck questioned it, I could just tell him it was cold in the shop, which was true.
However, when I appeared down the hall, he barely even glanced at me before he had me marching out the door to his truck. He was a grumpy fucker today, and it only managed to grate at the raw wound between us.
The entire ride to his shop was silence filled, and neither one of us made a move for the radio. Every once in a while, I’d glance over at him, and then I’d feel his eyes on me when I looked away. It was a quiet game of cat and mouse, but trying to decipher what was on his mind only managed to give me a headache. As soon as we pulled into the lot of the shop and he led me inside, he gave me a good indication of how the day was going to go.
I followed him down the hall to the office, and he dragged out a lockbox full of hanging folders with a thick stack of papers jammed inside it. “You can organize those today.”
And with those explicit instructions, he left. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind him, echoing the sound of my chest splitting down the middle. I needed to get out of here. That much was evident. But it wasn’t going to be easy when I had to walk through the shop to do it.
I sat down with a sigh and yanked the stack of papers from the lockbox. Even though I knew leaving was the right thing, the actuality of running out on Ace felt wrong. But why? It didn’t make any logical sense, especially after his treatment of me last night. I could see how what Trouble said was true. Women tried not to fall in love with him, but somehow, they did. I just didn’t want to be another one of those women.
The morning ticked by slowly as I sorted through paper after paper and jammed them into the corresponding files. Some were bills, tax documents, health records, and the occasional personal document. I found a scanned copy of Huck’s driver’s license and stared at the glowering face in the photo for far too long. He hadn’t changed. His beard was the same, along with the same whiskey-colored eyes and the few lines etched into his face.
I couldn’t understand how he felt so familiar to me. How I had dreamed of him long before I’d ever met him. If my mother were still alive, I was certain she would tell me it was a sign I shouldn’t ignore. She believed strongly in fate and some magically divine plan the universe gave each of us. But look where that notion got her.