39. Chapter 39
39
P ulling up outside of the salon, I’m antsy as hell. I haven’t seen Libby in three days and it’s killing me. She knows I’m in town. I told her I was staying here until we get her to New Orleans. And that doesn’t change just because she doesn’t want me with her. She asked me to leave and deserves to have space. No matter how much it’s killing me. But she’s still my wife and I will do everything possible to keep her safe.
Including moving her into the apartment I found listed yesterday and signed a lease on this morning over email.
Tyson also texted me this morning to see if I needed any help with the cleanup at the salon since he has a day off. Other than the guys I had board everything up, I’ve taken it upon myself to spearhead the cleanup. I haven’t talked with the owner, Sarah, in depth enough to know her budget to get everything fixed, but I’ll never turn down the extra help. Especially since Tyson never does anything for money and I know he’ll turn it down if she tries.
“What’s your problem?” Tyson asks as we walk up the stairs.
“Nothing.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Congratulations,” I mumble.
“See? You’ve been pissy since I got here. Slug told me Libby kicked you out. What did you expect after jumping the gun marrying the girl? You didn’t even get her a ring, man. I’d kick you out too.” I shoot Tyson a look to let him know he’s standing on thin ice. Not getting Libby a ring was completely intentional. I’ll gladly put on a fake marriage with her, but the only time I will ever put a ring on her finger is when she agrees to marry me for real . “Listen. All I’m saying is Libby has some high walls and barely knows you. Husband or not, you still have to be careful.”
I know Libby has walls. It was clear the moment she saw me on the other side of that bathroom door the first night we met. But I call bullshit on her not knowing me. I’ve made it a point to make sure she can see through me at every turn. I don’t want to be just another person in her life that she has to worry about. I want to be her fucking husband.
There isn’t any doubt that she’s been through some tough things, but she wants to believe there is better. I can feel it in the way she speaks and the way she looks at me. She deserves to have someone show her that there is better. Because even though she has a tainted view on receiving unconditional love, she loves whole heartedly.
I understand her not letting people in easily. Hard times create hard people. But I’m nothing if not a patient man, and I’ll give her all the time she needs. I’ll show her that she deserves more than the bare minimum from people. Because I see her, and I see that she’s worth so much more than the life she’s been given.
Unlocking the door to the salon, I head to the stack of mirrors that got dropped off last night.
“Holy fuck. This is bad,” Tyson gapes. And he’s right, it is bad. Even after spending yesterday cleaning everything up and patching holes, it’ll still be a week or two before they can open back up.
“I’m hoping we can bust ass today and get all the glass in.”
Tyson nods while looking around. “Yeah man. Shouldn’t be a problem,” he says. So we roll up our sleeves and get to work.
I’m wrist deep in caulk when my phone goes off. Shit. It could be Libby, but my hands are covered..
“Will you get that, Ty?” He’s finishing up installing the last mirror, which isn’t a messy job.
“On it,” he says and scoops up my phone. “Whose Savannah?” Abso-fuckin-lutely not . “Just leave it.” But the look on his face tells me his intentions before he does it.
“Oh shit. That’s your sister’s name, right?” The asshole answers Facetime and keeps my phone to himself.
“Hey pretty girl,” he says to my sister and anger ignites inside me. Fuck it, I’ll deal with the window later.
“Who are you?” Savannah’s voice is laced with intrigue.
“I’m the guy who will now be at your every beck and call.” God, I want to puke. Or punch Tyson. Maybe both.
“That’s enough,” I say to him and snatch my phone. “Hey sis. What — what the fuck are you wearing?” I know what she’s wearing. It’s a bikini. A tiny fucking bikini. One that Tyson just saw her in.
“Calm down, Mother Teresa. It’s a swimsuit. Who answered your phone?” Savannah rolls over and blocks the sun from her face.
I take a breath and focus on her surroundings instead of the tiny shreds of cloth covering her. “Are you on a cruise?” She never told me about a cruise.
“I am. We’re docked right now, so I have some service. Figured I’d check in with my favorite brother.”
“How are you taking a cruise? You were just here. What about class?” God, I sound like a worried father. But someone has to watch over her and our mom. Be the man of the house, so to say. And I’m the only option. Not that it’s ever been an option, really. Family is number one.
“I’m on spring break. Are you done with the third degree now? Or are you going to keep being an annoying asshole?” She’s infuriating, but I don’t have it in me to argue. “I’m going to take that as you’re done. Now tell me. Who the hell answered your phone?”
Tyson grabs the phone out of my hand and uses his long legs to keep his distance from me as I try to get it back.
“Tyson Miller. But you,” he pauses. “You can call me Ty. Or daddy. Or anything else you’d like.” His smile is smug, and I’d love nothing more than to smack it off of him. But he is quick. Too fucking quick and it’s pissing me off.
“Alright, playboy . Give my brother his phone back.” Tyson stops dead in his tracks, allowing me to yank my phone out of his grip once again.
“Is there a reason you called?” I ask in a huff. I love talking to my sister, and I’m thankful we’re so close, but this is not a great time. There’s a ton to do around the salon and I don’t want Tyson staring at my sister’s more than half naked body any longer than he already has.
“For one, that’s rude. For two, that’s the roommate you tried to hide me from?”
Fuck my life.
“She was here ?” Tyson questions from behind the phone in an octave I didn't know he could reach. “What kind of friend are you?” I ignore his ridiculous questions.
“I was just checking in and seeing how things are going. How’s married life?” Savannah asks.
“She met my sister?” Tyson is nearly yelling and I want nothing more than for this conversation to be over.
“Listen Sav, I appreciate you calling—”
“Me too,” Tyson blurts out from across the room and I shoot my most intimidating death glare.
“But I’m working right now and don’t have a lot of time.”
“I see where I stand.” Something gets her attention, and she cuts the conversation short. “Gotta go big bro. Talk to you soon.” And the call ends.
Tyson opens his mouth, but I point a finger at him. “Say one word and I will end you.” He puts his hands up, but the cocky look on his face shows everything he’s thinking.
The door chimes and in walks Blake, a middle-aged woman, and my sexy little redhead. I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face anymore than the fluttering happening in my chest. Last time I saw Libby, she was kicking me out. I don’t know if she still doesn’t want to see me, but god knows I want to see her.
“Oh my,” the older woman says, her hands covering her mouth and eyes wide, but Libby is quick to comfort her.
“It’ll be okay, Sarah. We’ll get it all fixed as fast as we can,” she soothes, putting an arm around her.
“Sarah?” I walk over to the girls and hold my hand out to her. “I’m Colt. We talked on the phone.”
“Yes,” she stammers and grabs my hand, shaking it wildly. “You are such a godsend. What you did for me with boarding everything up… tell me how I can repay you.”
“No need for that. I’m happy to help.” Boarding up windows was a given. No matter whose shop it was.
Tears fill her eyes and Libby squeezes her tighter. “Well, thank you. Truly.” She finally looks beyond me, making her way around the salon.
I take the time to turn my attention to Libby. She’s not looking at me, but I can still see that she isn’t doing well. The darkness under her eyes and the slouch in her posture are barely noticeable, but it’s there. She’s exhausted. I wonder how much sleep she’s got over the last couple of nights. Blake’s been doing the best friend things and not replying to my texts, checking in on my wife. She’s team Libby and I don’t blame her. I just wish she knew that I’m team Libby too.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tyson takes a step towards Blake while he whisper-yells at her. He may as well speak normally. Everyone in this building can hear him.
“Well, you see,” Blake motions her arms around the room. “This just so happens to be my place of work. I kind of belong here. What are you doing here?”
“Stop with the attitude. I’m helping Colt so you can get back to work.” Whatever hostility Blake has towards Tyson fades when the words leave his mouth.
“You’re going to fix everything?” Libby’s gaze is finally on me and I want to soak up the warmth.
“I am,” I confirm. I want to reach out to her. To be close enough to take in her scent and feel her softness. To wrap her in my arms and demand she never push me away again.
“No, you’re not,” Sarah calls from the other end of the room. “I have my insurance agent coming by tomorrow. They’ll get it taken care of.”
I hate insurance agents. “No offense, Sarah, but do you know how long it will be before you’re up and running if you use an insurance agent?”
“Honey, I pay them every month. May as well use them when I need to.”
“I understand. But if you make a claim for your salon being vandalized, then your deductible is going to go up too. Why don’t you let me help you this time and rely on your insurance if something comes up that can’t be helped?” I ask.
Insurance companies like to give you pennies on the dollar for what the damage is worth, and most contractors will see that you’re using a claim and overcharge you. It’s one of the reasons I got into the business. I hate people taking advantage of others. Like I said, I hate them.
“Alright. What’s the catch?” she demanded. Why do people think there has to be a catch?
“No catch. I am simply here and willing to help. I know how it is to own a business and the stress that comes with it.”
“You own your own business?”
“Yes ma’am. I own a construction company in New Orleans,” I say. “So I know what I’m doing when it comes to repairs. I can get you a contractor's discount on the supplies that I’ll let you cover.” I know better than to mess with the pride of a woman. “But I won't accept payment for labor.”
Sarah looks at me with unsure eyes. “Fine. But you’re getting a lifetime of free haircuts,” she orders.
“That works for me.”
We shake hands on the deal and I feel a pair of eyes burning a hole in my back. Turning around, I find the icy blues I’ve come to be obsessed with. My god, even when she’s clearly exhausted, Libby still my breath away. And with the way she’s looking at me, I wonder if I do the same to her?