Chapter 2 #3
I gave his leg a final gentle squeeze and stood.
“You did really well, Fender. This was an excellent start. Now, I’d like you to do the same at home.
Put some of the oil on your hand and do exactly like I did.
It might take you a little while, but I believe in you.
” I gave him two thumbs-up. “You got this.”
His lips spread wide, flashing white teeth and a peek of his pointy canines. He did that a lot around me. I didn’t know why, honestly. I was just happy that every time he left my office, he seemed happier than when he arrived.
“Appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said and slid his prosthesis back on. “And bring your car into the workshop. Least I can do since you’re making me a pie, yeah?”
Oh no. “Uh, you don’t need to do that.”
“I insist,” he said, his voice growing serious. “Don’t want you driving around in a car that could be dangerous.”
“Oh, right. Of course, yes, that wouldn’t be wise,” I said, my mind racing.
“No, it wouldn’t.” He opened the door. “Catch you later, Temp.”
I gave him another double thumbs-up “Catch you later.”
He chucked as he walked away.
How the heck did I get myself into these kinds of situations?
I didn’t want him to think I was a liar, though it wasn’t a hurtful lie.
But Matilda W always said when we lied, the mother heard us, and she wept from the disappointment.
I didn’t want to make the mother weep. And it wasn’t a total lie.
I mean, okay, it was, but I needed a car anyway and it wasn’t like I could afford a good one.
I’d just get one now, a blue one that needed some work, and take it in.
That should nullify my white lie. I smiled, pleased with myself. Crisis avoided.
Walking to the window, I looked out at the parking lot in time to see Fender stride toward his bike, his limp barely noticeable.
I’d asked about the bike, and he’d told me he’d made some adjustments to accommodate his injury.
He swung onto the big machine, and the engine roared to life a moment later.
My belly did another silly swoop as he rode off.
What would it be like to ride a bike like that?
It looked like fun. I’d seen a few of his brothers with females pressed tight to their backs as they rode down the street. That looked even more exciting.
I chewed my lip. Fender was kind, or at least he came across that way, and I liked the way he said my name, the way he occasionally called me babe in that rough voice of his, but I knew better than to blindly trust. I’d already made that mistake with another male and had been told in no uncertain terms what he thought of me.
Matildas didn’t mate or marry or have children.
They did, however, on occasion after thorough vetting, take a lover.
Not that Matilda W went into too much detail, but I could admit the idea intrigued me.
The only thing she’d said was to choose wisely, and that there was a hidden section in our coven’s grimoire that would show itself to me when and if I needed it. So far it hadn’t showed me anything.
The problem was, reading people wasn’t something I was good at.
Living the way I had, I still had so much to learn.
Magnolia had been helping. She didn’t know my past, but I had shared that I’d had an isolated upbringing to explain my shortcomings, and that seemed to have worked.
She’d also been extremely kind, going as far as inviting me to spend time with her at her home.
We’d had a few movie nights, which I’d enjoyed immensely.
But because of my inability to read people, there’d been a humiliating mix-up that had ended in a wolf shifter from the Silver Claw pack telling me to “stay the fuck away from him” in front of several people here at the clinic, followed by another unkind comment.
Mags had stepped in, cursed at him, then had rushed me away.
For that and so many other reasons, I liked her immensely and appreciated her friendship more than she knew.
I’d mistaken the wolf shifter’s attentions for something more, and it had ended in disaster.
I never wanted to experience anything like that ever again.
So as lovely as I thought Fender was, I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Just because he smiled at me, was kind to me, it didn’t mean he was interested in me in a romantic sense.
I was his healer, nothing more. Besides, I’d have to investigate his background before I could even consider taking him as a lover.
He also might not be interested in me. Raiden certainly hadn’t been.
I rubbed my aching and bruised wrist as I checked the time.
My shift was almost over. Good, because I needed to go buy a car, then grab some butter so I could make some peach pies.
Matilda W always said breaking a promise was like telling an outright lie.
When I’d forget to clean my room or do the dishes when it was my turn, she’d say, Do you want to make the mother cry, Tempest?
I never wanted to make the mother cry. Ever.
It was still early afternoon. Excellent. I should be able to get both chores done before my visit with Mr. Richards.