Chapter 6
SLADE
“Owww.” Krissy stumbles down the last step but catches herself on the railing.
“Morning, sunshine.”
She grumbles, dragging into the kitchen. She bumps me to the side, trying to get to the coffee pot.
“If you have time this morning, I’ve got a full lineup at the shop. We could use some help with oil changes and rotations.”
She runs the sleeve of her sweatshirt over her face. “I just got my nails done.”
I hand her a clean mug from the dishwasher. “So.”
She pours the steaming black liquid and returns the pot to the warmer. “I have a staff meeting and hope to talk to the manager of the labor department. They want to set up an interview.”
I pick up the small box on top of an open bubble mailer lying on the counter. “What’s this?”
Krissy turns, resting against the counter and bringing her mug to her lips. “It’s a genetic testing kit. The girls at work were talking about them.” She takes a careful sip.
“A testing kit?” I frown, setting it down.
“Yeah. They said it might show if I have any of the markers Mom had.”
My eyes drift back to the small cardboard box. “You want to know that? ”
We don’t talk about our mom often. It brings back a tidal wave of emotions neither of us is comfortable getting close to.
She shrugs. “I feel like I should know.” Her voice drops a level. “I mean, it’d be good for possible preventative care.”
A tightness creeps over my chest with those words. “You sure? Would it change anything?”
She weighs her head from side to side. “Maybe. I’m still thinking about it.”
I watch her, knowing she’s already decided, or the box wouldn’t be sitting on the table. She’s trying to protect me, but she wouldn’t do this behind my back. We don’t hide things from each other. It’s a rule.
I’ve been Krissy’s guardian since she was thirteen, when our mom died. It was vital we didn’t keep secrets if we were going to survive the teen years.
“Will you let me know?”
“Sure.” One side of her mouth curls up. “I heard you met the new neighbor.” She changes the subject, hiding her smile behind her mug.
Of course, those jackasses are yapping about it like it’s breaking news. They seriously need more shit to do. I fill my travel mug with coffee.
“Cute single mom, huh?” she asks nonchalantly, like there wasn’t a group message with every inconsequential detail they could conjure to create as much drama as possible.
When I don’t take the bait, she tries again.
“It’s nice of you to help her.”
I screw the lid on my cup. “Her car needs repairing. It’s business.”
“You sound a little defensive, Stone Cold.” She skews her tone, attempting to push my buttons.
“Are you available this morning or not?” I’m not engaging in their useless chatter.
“If my meeting doesn’t run too long, I’ll stop by and help for a bit.”
I tug open the fridge and grab the container of leftovers for lunch .
“Or, I could go grocery shopping so we actually have food,” she says as if I’m still supposed to stock the house.
“There’s food in the pantry. You just have to make it.”
She scoffs like that’s a ridiculous concept.
“If you move out, you’ll have to cook.”
We trade making meals, but Krissy conveniently has plans pop up on her assigned nights.
“Nah. I’ll just be strategic about lining up dates.”
“Didn’t go well with the doctor?” I ask, but I’m not really sure I want to know the details.
“I didn’t say that.” She pushes away from the counter and stops at the bottom of the stairs. “Will you go with me to look at apartments?”
I turn in her direction, thinking about what the guys said.
“Please,” she begs softly.
“Not Trig’s apartment.”
“Deal.” She smiles and climbs the stairs. “Good thing. Otherwise, you’re gonna have to be cool with me bringing the hot doc back here.”
I run a hand over my face. She wears me out.
I shove the plastic container of chicken and rice in my lunch box and swipe my travel mug from the counter.
I grab my hat and coat, needing to get to the shop and sort out the schedule.
If I have time, I’ll run payroll, check inventory, and review statements to see if I can bring on another mechanic.
I back out of the garage, and Brandon stands in the middle of his yard, staring at me while his mini dog shits in his front yard. My next- door neighbor spends his days walking his wiener and watching what everyone else does.
When I moved in, he complained that my truck was too much for his noise sensitivity. Then, I caught him eyeing Krissy and told him if he didn’t want to be blind, he should keep his eyes on his side of the fence.
At the end of my street, I proceed to turn right. As I approach the bus stop, I notice a woman sitting on the bench that’s usually empty. I roll closer, and my head swivels, seeing—
My foot spontaneously stomps on the brake, sending my coffee flying off the center console. “Dammit.” I rip the tumbler off the floor. Thankfully, the sliding lid was closed.
I stare out the window at Sarah sitting in a skirt, her long, slim legs covered with black tights and heels.
It’s forty-some degrees, and she’s wearing a thin sweater with a collared shirt underneath.
Her long, shiny brown hair hangs in waves, shielding her face.
She’s focused on the open book across her lap.
All common sense screams to roll on past, but my stupid ass finger goes rogue and pushes the button to lower the window. “What are you doing?”
Her head snaps up, and those tantalizing eyes spear me. One as blue as the morning sky. The other, like warm amber. Both are enhanced by a light layer of makeup.
She glances right, then left, looking up and down the street before focusing back on me.
“Did you look up my address? Are you stalking me?” Her head falls to the side, and she crosses her arms over her chest, her brow scrunching.
My shoulders slump as my eyes roll. I have lost my damn mind. Krissy has finally driven me to complete insanity.
A car approaches in my rearview mirror but proceeds around my truck. My gaze travels back to the woman on the bench as she shoves her book into her bag.
“Stalking you?” I have to hold back a scoff. “Has that been a common occurrence that would make you believe I’d spend my time hunting you down in hopes of catching you alone and off guard?”
One dark eyebrow arches as she zips her bag closed. “That question was a bit detailed, don’t you think?”
I rest my wrist on the steering wheel, gathering my patience. “What are you doing?” My frustration builds at the annoying part of me that doesn’t like her sitting here alone, where anyone could—
One foot starts to bob over her crossed legs. “Uh, as far as I know, this isn’t a launch pad, but if a spaceship lands, I’ll be sure to snap a pic before climbing aboard.” Her eyes grow wide. “I might even send it to you.”
My molars grind together. I will my leg to release my foot from the brake, but the damn thing doesn’t move. I have things to do, and I don’t have time for. . .this. “Where’s your rental?”
Her shoulders roll back, and her neck lengthens. “I didn’t reserve one.” There’s a momentary pause. “As you can see,” she says, one hand extending before her. “I’m taking the bus.”
I inhale long and slow, returning my gaze to my windshield and the road beyond. The sun casts an illuminating haze that must also be clouding my cognitive processing ability.
“You didn’t reserve a rental?” I ask calmly and cooly, mustering all of my strength.
She ignores me, her eyes traveling down the street as if I no longer exist.
“Sarah.”
Her bright blue eye peeks at me from the corner.
“Get in,” I order, moving my stuff from the passenger seat to the back. I glance at my watch.
She doesn’t move, and another car passes.
“Get in, Sarah,” I say as delicately as possible, needing her to hurry up so we can both get to work.
She sets her backpack in her lap and wraps her arms around it, gripping her phone. A complete act of stubborn defiance.
“You’re so kind to offer, but. . .no. The bus will be here any second.”
I want to lift my foot off the brake and let my truck carry me away from the beautiful threat sitting before me on a cold ass bench. A vision of the little boy with the ugly, fat fish and the baby in the carrier flashes through my mind.
She stares at me, those hypnotizing eyes burning into me. Eyes I might be able to stare at all day .
Fuck.
My body temperature escalates. I run a hand over my face.
My damn boot stays put. “Get in the truck, Sarah. You’re not riding the bus.”
A smile tugs at her lips. The kind that tells me I just waged war.
“Do you get away with telling everyone what to do?”
My teeth grind together. “Sarah.”
“Slaaaaade.” My name rolling off her tongue shoots tingles up my spine in the most uncomfortable way. “I don’t know you. I’m not getting in your truck or going anywhere with you. I don’t know how you found me, but you need to leave. The bus will be here any second .”
If she thinks I’m afraid of her or this bus, she’s out of her damn mind.
I yank my foot off the pedal and roll forward, drifting to the curb. I shove the gear shift into park and push my door open, letting it close behind me.
I march back and stop in front of her. “You are not riding the bus. Have you heard about things happening to people on buses? I have a twenty-four-year-old sister, and there isn’t a chance in hell I’d let her sit out here.
I live across the street from you. I saw you on my usual route to the shop, and given that you work with Kat, I know your office is just a few blocks from the garage.
So, please get in the truck.” I point to make myself clear.
She cranes her neck to glower at me. “Would you let your sister get in a truck with a strange man who ordered her to do so?”
I inhale, hoping a strong dose of patience is in the air. I let it out as the bus rounds the corner three blocks down. I have no doubt that if she had a chain available, she’d lock herself to this bench.