Chapter Eleven
Jo
I refuse to leave the guesthouse until 8 am on Monday.
When I do, I’m wearing my favorite tan pencil skirt, white blouse, and my strappy nude heels.
My blonde hair is perfectly blown out and curled, my makeup is impeccably done.
I even broke out more of my jewelry to dress myself up.
The best cure to having my spirit crushed into a million pieces is to look like it never happened at all.
I walk into Lochlan’s empty kitchen by 8:01 and start packing up all of the textbooks I had left piled on the table.
When I hear the backdoor open, I scramble, shoving them into my backpack.
“I wasn’t expecting you so early,” Lochlan says from the doorway.
I don’t look up, avoiding eye contact while I struggle to zip my bag.
“I’m only grabbing my stuff, I’m on my way out.”
“Jo, I need to apologize,” he starts, but I cut him off.
“No, you don’t. I wanted to be friends with you, but you drew a line. You’re my boss, and I will respect that.”
“I shouldn’t have said what I said. ”
“But you did.” I throw my bag over my shoulder and step toward the front door.
“You’re leaving?” He exhales roughly.
“I have to go return these books to campus and get my new ones for the summer semester. I’ll be back this afternoon to get some work done.” I give him my fakest, cheeriest smile.
“Enjoy your day.”
Each step of my heels across the hardwood floors is echoed by his boots behind me, following me to the front porch.
He watches me get in my car, and I watch his form disappear in my dust cloud as I leave.
* * *
Two weeks go by, and I’m still firm in my decision to keep my distance from Lochlan.
Aside from a few words every day to communicate what needs to be done for the sanctuary, I haven’t spoken to him or any of the guys.
When I’m not at school or in Lochlan’s kitchen, I’m studying or working on my Master’s thesis.
I’ve organized every single piece of paper in his filing cabinet, I’ve set up auto-pay on every bill that I can, and I’ve written out the checks that need to be signed for the things still being paid the old-fashioned way.
I shouldn’t have to converse with Lochlan about anything for at least six months at this rate.
“Are you done for the day?” He asks from behind me as soon as I shut my laptop.
“Yeah, I have to take my car in for an oil change. ”
“I can do it.”
“No, it’s okay. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Wouldn’t ask.
I walk out onto the porch, but he follows me.
“Let me change your oil.”
I don’t know why he wants to, but I’ve been dreading hanging out in some greasy auto shop.
I’m almost two thousand miles overdue.
My fingers fidget with my key fob until he holds his hand out for them.
“Okay,” I concede.
“Thanks.” I hand him my keys as he saddles past me.
“I’ll take it down to the garage if you want to ride down with me,” he announces when he notices me standing in the same spot.
“Oh, um. Sure.” I climb into my passenger seat, immediately regretting it as he shuts the door behind me and walks to the driver’s side.
My little BMW is way too small, and he’s way too big.
He takes up so much space that our bodies are within inches of each other, and I’m hyper aware of it.
My brain has replayed how it felt when he threaded his fingers into my hair the night of the fire every time I close my eyes to go to sleep…
I’m so deprived of any type of intimacy that I’m touch-starved.
But, here he is, so close to me that I could rest my head on his shoulder if I wanted to.
I don’t want to, not with someone who thinks it’s a chore to deal with me.
Like he’s back in prison…
It was admittedly the worst ten years of his life, and I’m comparable.
The pain of that is still as sharp as it was the moment he said it, and it makes the air in here suffocating.
But, I’m desperate to keep this job and to have a place to stay that my father can’t touch, so I have to endure it.
“You can sit over here.” Lochlan points to a short rolling stool before he lifts my hood and pulls out the oil dipstick.
He wipes it clean, sticks it back in, and then pulls it out again to check the level.
“You’re pretty low.”
“My parents’ assistant used to keep track of all the upkeep on the family vehicles. But, once I moved out, I lost all special treatment.”
He looks at me briefly, “I’ll fill your windshield wiper fluid, too. Hayes knows more about cars, he can make sure everything else is running right.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay, I didn’t mean to–”
“You’re a part of this place now. We’ll take care of it,” he insists, pumping the jack to raise my car, flexing the corded muscle along his bicep.
Part of this place.
A tingle emerges behind my nose and travels higher, making my eyes glossy.
“You okay?” He asks after I raise my head to ward off the unshed tears.
“I think the fumes in here are getting to me.”
He opens a side door to encourage more ventilation, but it only makes the moisture in my eyes worsen.
“Did you always know that you’d live here? Follow in your grandfather’s footsteps?” I ask, trying to distract myself.
“The day my mother dropped us off on his doorstep to take off for a more exciting life, my grandparents never hesitated to treat us as their own. They were my parents, and I knew I’d spend the rest of my life repaying them for their generosity. ”
“Us?”
“I have a little sister. Becky.”
“She didn’t want to work here?”
He scoffs, “Hell no. She couldn’t wait to leave. She loved my grandparents, too, but she was a free spirit like our mom was. She traveled for a few years before she came back to help my pops out after my grandmother died, and I was in prison. As soon as I got out, I told her to take off. I couldn’t let her life suffer because of my shit. She settled down and has a family now.”
“You never wanted a family?” I ask hesitantly.
His eyes go distant, and I know I asked the wrong question.
“No.”
I don’t think he’s telling me the truth, but I let it go.
He’s my boss.
Not my friend.
“What about you? What’s next once school’s finished?” I’m surprised he asked me a question; I was expecting all conversation to cease.
“I don’t know. I thought about touring different universities in different parts of the country and maybe pursuing a PhD or another Master’s degree.”
“Damn.”
“I enjoy learning.”
He raises his hands in a “I’m not judging” way.
“What about a family?” He asks, and my cheeks heat.
“I want to get married, but no family.”
He tilts his head in surprise.
“My family didn’t exactly give me a good example of family life. I’ll pass,” I add, defusing the questions I see stewing in his brain.
“My sister is coming over for dinner,” he says while lowering my car to the ground.
“You should come. She’ll also insist,” he adds under his breath.
* * *
“Uncle Lochy!!” The little girl with beaded braids in her hair screeches out the window of a red SUV, scrambling out of the car and jumping into his arms as soon as they park.
“Eminem.” He presses a kiss on top of her head.
“It’s been too long.”
“Who is this?” She asks, smiling sweetly at me.
I’m not great with kids’ ages, but I’d guess she’s 7 or 8.
“This is Jo, she works here.”
“Jo, huh? And here I thought this place was a cockpit,” a woman with a blonde pixie cut says.
“Jo, this is Tessa, my sister’s wife. And, my sister, Becky.” His sister looks a lot like him.
Tall with dark hair, French braided down her back.
“And their pet velociraptor, Emory.”
“I’m not a velociraptor, Lochy. I’m a princess.” She points to the glittery butterfly and flower clips in her hair to prove her point.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“Are you able to stay for dinner?” His sister asks, and Lochlan glances at me like ‘told ya’.
“I invited her already. She’s staying in grandma’s old studio,” he explains, and I watch her eyes widen briefly before she recovers.
“Hmm, interesting,” Becky smirks, but turns around to grab something from her backseat.
“I brought pizza, take these.”
She plops three boxes in his arms and walks ahead of us into the house.
“She never fails to make herself right back at home,” he mumbles.