Cash
Chapter Thirteen
Jeb is standing just inside the bay, hands in the pockets of pants so aggressively polite they’re probably called slacks. And it looks like he ironed his polo shirt. A lot of effort for half past eight in the morning.
I grunt in acknowledgement as I stride into the garage. “Martin.”
“I wanted to follow up on the cable replacement.”
“Sure. We can get you booked in for that next week.”
“I’d like to get it done today.”
I barely contain a snort. “No can do. We’ve got a full schedule.”
His expression shifts, recalculating his plan. “I see.”
I wonder what he thinks he sees. Because he showed up for a reason, bright and early, unable to stay away from the man who has claimed the woman he once wanted. Probably will always want, because she didn’t want him, and that didn’t sit right with him at all.
He doesn’t move toward the door.
Maybe he wants to force me to do work for him.
I pick up a rag, even though I don’t need to wipe my hands. It gives me something to do besides grab the front of his ironed polo and shove him out the door. “I’ll need to order the part in.”
“Right.” He twists and glances over his shoulder. “How long have you and Haven been seeing each other?”
And there it is.
“That’s private.”
He laughs, the fucker. “You’re not her type.”
I grind my teeth together. He doesn’t know her fucking type.
“Well, she always did think the best of people.” And then he sighs and shakes his head, which turns my stomach.
That’s enough of that. I put the rag down on the workbench and close the gap between us, rolling my shoulders. He’s a few inches shorter than me. Always has been, even though he was a grown man when we met and I was a brash sixteen year old kid.
Making him look up at me feels good.
Keeping Hope’s secrets feels even better, though.
So I ignore both of his goading statements, and focus on the business he ostensibly showed up here to initiate.
“If you want to make an appointment, we’d be happy to replace that cable and do a full brake repair for you.
If you’re looking for conversation, you’ll have to find that somewhere else. ”
“She’s been through a lot,” he says. “I just want to make sure she’s all right.”
“That’s not for you to worry about.”
He wants to say more, he’s practically vibrating. “She’s always been looking for something to anchor herself to. She needs—” He pauses, choosing his word with care. “Steadiness.”
I don’t answer.
“I just hope you’re good for her. She deserves that much.” He says it like he wants to remind me that he knew her first, he wanted her first. But he didn’t.
I remember when he showed up in her life with a pleasant smile and lust in his eyes.
I was here first, and I know what she needs.
“I’ll place that part order,” I say coldly. “Always happy to be a good neighbour. Doesn’t matter if we’ve had differences in the past, you know? Sometimes, it’s important to just let things go and be an adult for the good of the town.”
Community is important. That’s going to be the message I hammer home, to Jeb and Jessika and anyone else that tries to insert themselves into Haven’s life. They need to be better neighbours to her. But that’s the extent of their involvement in her business.
“Drive safe,” I hear myself say. I don’t mean it. I’d like his brakes to fail and for him to drive off a mountain switchback, but a guy like him probably never leaves town.
Pity.
She’s always been looking for something to anchor herself to.
I hate that he isn’t entirely wrong. He’s weaponizing something real about Haven for his own purposes, but the kernel inside it—
She does need steadiness.
And every single day, she’s building that for her goddamn self, piece by piece, without any help from a man. But if one were lucky enough to get the shot, he’d be someone who didn’t see her need for safety and patience as any kind of liability.
It would be a fucking gift to give her that.
It is a gift.
Riley materializes at my elbow. “You good, boss?”
“Yep.” I watch Jeb’s truck disappear down the street. “Let’s get to work.”
Haven
did Jeb behave himself?
Cash
he followed my example and was civil enough
Haven
Glad to hear it
Cash
Any food allergies that I should know about for dinner tonight?
Haven
smooth change of subject
Cash
thank you
Haven
no, I eat pretty much everything
Cash
I’ll pick you up when you’re finished work
Haven
you’re right across the street!
Cash
humour me
“It’s not much to look at,” I warn Haven as I lead her up the outside stairs to my apartment.
Inside, she takes a polite look around and smiles. “It’s very clean.”
“My books are in my bedroom if you want to snoop at my collection.”
An intoxicating pink dusts the top of her cheeks. “I’m okay.”
I grin at her. “You afraid my bedroom might bite?”
She rolls her eyes and sets her purse on my couch. Then she pulls out her notebook.
“More rules?”
She laughs. “No. But it is a living document, so just in case we want to add anything, or amend…”
I shrug. “I’m good.”
“Me, too. What are you making for dinner? Can I help?”
“You’re my guest.”
“I can be a helpful guest, though.” She gives me a shy look, as if to remind me that cooking together is something people who are dating do. “Or you can tell me more about what happened this morning with Jeb.”
I make a face. “I could use help with dinner, after all.”
She puts the notebook down. “That good, huh?”
I shrug. “It was fine. He’s an asshole, but I was polite and professional. He tried to ask about us and I didn’t give him any information.”
She sucks in a breath. “Really?”
“Of course.” I frown. “I wouldn’t reveal your secrets.”
“Oh, I know that. I meant, he really asked? That’s…direct.”
“You’ve surprised him.” I hold up a bag of rice. “I’m cooking some ground beef with veg. I’d eat it on top of rice, if that works for you?”
“Sounds great.” She purses her lips, but whatever the rest of her thought is, she keeps it to herself.
I get the ground beef into the skillet, then pull out veggies for Haven to chop while I put a pot of rice on.
“It’s nice to have company while I cook,” I say once we’re into a rhythm. “And you don’t yell as much as my brothers do.”
She slides a soft look sideways at me. “You know…I don’t think I’ve ever cooked with another person.”
“Really? Not even at university?”
“Nope. I found a studio apartment when I moved to Edmonton and I lived there all six years.”
“But—” I cut myself off.
“It’s okay. I know it’s weird. I struggled to make friends.”
“I don’t know, here we are.” I shrug. “If I didn’t have three brothers, I don’t know that I’d have any friends close enough to cook with, either. It’s hard to make friends.”
She laughs. “You’re joking.”
“No.”
“You have… But you…”
“I…what?”
“You have lots of friends.” And the way she says friends, she clearly means girlfriends.
“Do I?”
“Don’t you?”
“Lots for us to learn still about each other.”
“That’s not answering the question.”
“That’s more of a fifth date revelation.”
“Wait, is this our third date?” She sets down the knife. “Tell me what ridiculous name you gave me in your phone.”
I groan. “That was a joke.”
“Which part, the name or the third date reveal? Don’t distract me.”
“How am I distracting you?”
She stares up at me. We’ve turned to each other, abandoning our cooking tasks. “I don’t think you like to share things about yourself.”
“That’s not true.”
“No? Tell me what my name is in your phone.”
“Haven.” It is that now, anyway. I roll my big shoulders, looking casual. I don’t think it works.
She narrows her eyes. “Was it something else before that?”
“You asked me to change it, and I changed it.”
“Deflection,” she mutters, her gaze not leaving my face.
I lean in and kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re very cute when you’re trying to figure me out like a puzzle.”
“You are a puzzle,” she agrees. “Maybe we should play truth or dare.”
I laugh.
She doesn’t.
“Oh, you’re serious.”
She lifts her chin. “We don’t really know each other that well and I thought—”
“I’m in.”
Her mouth closes, the corners of her lips twisting up, pleased.
“But you go first, since it’s your idea. Truth or dare?”
She’s been thinking about this, because her answer is immediate. “Truth.”
I like that she’s eager to share something with me, and I don’t want to fuck this up. So I start with a pretty safe question that’s been on my mind for days. “How long have you been collecting the fantasy merch? The figurines, the stickers.”
Her eyes spark with surprise. “At least five years.”
“So you got into it while you were at university?”
She wiggles her finger, stopping me. “That’s a second question.”
“It’s a follow-up.”
“Those aren’t allowed. It’s your turn.”
I hold my hands up in surrender, but I’m grinning. “Fine. Dare.”
She’s the one who gave me the out, and I’m taking it, at least for the first round.
She thinks about it for a second. “Okay. I dare you to show me the exact face you gave Jeb this morning. Show me your ‘civil’ expression that set a good example.”
I glower at her.
She dissolves into giggles, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth. “No you didn’t.”
I wink. Then I smooth my expression out. “Community is important to me, Jeb. Happy to order a part for you.”
“Oh,” she breathes. “That’s…very convincing.”
I set aside the sauce I was mixing up and tug her close. “I’ll always make you look good, don’t worry.”
She leans into my chest for a second. Then she pats me. “My turn. I want a dare this time.”
I hold her against me, my arm low around her hips, as I turn so I can scoop some sauce onto a spoon. “Taste this.”
She reaches for the spoon, but I pull my hand back.
“No hands,” I clarify.
Her cheeks go pink.
I bring the spoon to her mouth, my belly pulling tight as she parts her lips readily.
She’s a virgin, don’t read too much into her obedience.
Too late, new fantasy unlocked.
She closes her mouth around the spoon and makes a happy little sound, then pulls away and swallows.
I pull a very slow breath in through my nose as she smiles happily at me. “Yummy.”
Jesus.
“My turn.” I clear my throat. “I pick truth.”