Chapter Five
Sadly, Laramie was about to have two days off work.
That should’ve been a good thing, since Stellan had ignored her completely for two days, and clearly, he could use the break from her working the same shift as him.
She closed out a payment for a customer who got new rims and tires on a truck for his son who was about to turn sixteen, and then said her goodbyes to him.
She cast an accidental glance at the table in the corner, where Stellan sat, fiddling with the paper bag of his lunch. He’d been eating in here since the day she’d asked to join him. She felt bad but couldn’t figure out why.
He cast her a bright gold eyed glance and returned his attention to the paper bag with a frown.
“Lunch,” Murph told her from where he was working on his computer at the desk behind her.
“Oh, okay,” she said. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. You’re doing good,” he said gruffly.
Surprised by the compliment, she ducked her pleased smile and murmured, “Thank you,” again. She was so awkward sometimes.
She hadn’t packed a lunch today, so she headed for the vending machine, but Stellan shocked her to her bones when he stood in front of her.
He chewed his lip and looked uncomfortable.
“Hi,” she said, confused.
He reached into his lunch sack and pulled out a sandwich. “I’ll get the Cokes this time.”
She was stunned as she took the sandwich from his hand. “I…I thought you hated me.”
“Picnic table,” he said simply.
Baffled, she murmured, “All right.” And then she turned and made her way to the back door.
Murph mouthed, What the hell? But all Laramie could do was shrug. She had no idea what was happening.
She and the sandwich made the trek together over the empty lot and to the tree line. It looked like roast beef today. She loved roast beef.
Her stomach growled. Breakfast had been a long time ago, because she’d woken up early to do a memory lane adventure right at sunrise.
She sat down in her spot in the back corner of the picnic table and watched Stellan stride across the lot with lunch and two drinks in his hands. His gait was powerful, and he had impeccable posture. Good Lord, that man was the hottest creature she’d ever seen.
Without a word, he sat directly across from her at the table, and unzipped his coveralls, then let the top half hang down to his waist as he started to unbag his sack lunch.
He was wearing a white T-shirt underneath that hugged the curves of his chiseled shoulders and biceps. Tattoos peeked out of his right sleeve.
“You don’t like the sandwich?” he asked, pulling her out of her staring contest with the single vein in his right bicep.
“Huh?”
“You aren’t hungry?” he asked.
“Oh! Uhh, I’m starving actually.” She lifted up the sandwich. “Thank you so much. I forgot my lunch today.”
“I know.”
She frowned, taking in his downturned face. It was best to just say what had been haunting her. “I can’t tell if you hate me or if you like me.”
“I’m mad at you,” he said, his gold eyes sliding to her and holding her trapped there in his gaze.
“Why?” she asked. “What did I do wrong?”
“You ruined my table.”
“This table?”
He set one of the sodas in front of her. “I was good out here. This is my spot to get away from the idiots in there, and now I don’t like it at all.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s only peaceful if you’re here now.”
Her mouth fell open.
Oh.
He wasn’t meeting her gaze now. He was looking at the table and took a bite of his sandwich.
“So, you don’t hate me?” she whispered.
“I wish I did.”
“You say mean things, and you don’t take them back,” she pointed out. “I don’t like it.”
“It’s who I am.” Those gold eyes found her again. “It’s time to be tough.”
Her eyebrows twitched up and it was her time to duck her gaze. “Rude again.” Laramie stood and gathered her lunch.
“Stay,” he gritted out.
She froze, wanting to leave, but also wanting to do as he asked, and stuck right in between.
When his eyes found her again, the glow was less, and the fire had died out. “Please,” he said softly.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked as she sat down slowly.
He huffed a laugh. “Our lunch break isn’t long enough for that conversation.”
“You really wish you hated me?” she asked. The answer mattered.
“I’m no good,” he said simply.
“You mean you wouldn’t make a good friend for—”
“I wouldn’t make a good mate for you, or for anyone.”
“Mate,” she repeated softly. This man was so confusing, and she was struggling to understand his language.
Stellan cracked his knuckles and looked agitated, then stared off into the woods.
“I have issues, okay?”
“Me too.”
How did he look hot even when he was frowning? He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You’re perfect.”
“Me?” she asked, absolutely floored. “No one has ever, in my entire existence, accused me of being perfect.”
“You are. You’re nice and soft and you can talk to people and make everyone feel seen in a busy room.”
She did not understand any of this. “Me?”
He nodded jerkily and took a bite of his sandwich. Around the bite, he said, “That’s not me.”
“Yeah, I could tell by the way you are nice to me one moment and hateful the next. You ignored me for two days. I said hi to you three times and you didn’t even acknowledge me back. That felt not-good, Stellan.”
“I’ll get worse,” he promised her.
Frustrated, she asked, “Why?”
“Because I’m not good at people.”
She scratched an itch on her cheek. She was getting agitated. “I see you talk to the guys out in the shop all day. You have them all in line, like a well-oiled machine. Even Murph says you run that shop back there.”
“So?”
“So, you are capable of communication.”
He inhaled sharply and stood, then paced off and back. He opened his hand, palm up, eyes sparking with intensity as he looked like he wanted to say something. But he changed his mind and paced away again.
“Just say it.”
He came back and gripped his hair in the back. “You aren’t what I expected.”
Those five words in that combination made no sense to her. Laramie just sat there like a bump on a log.
“I’m not going to see you for two days,” he pointed out.
“I know. It’s my Friday.” She frowned, trying to keep up with the winding conversation. “Does that make you happy?”
“It makes me feel like my guts are on the outside of my body.”
Oh shit. Laramie released a tense breath and relaxed, easing back from the table as she watched him pace away again, and return.
“I don’t hate you,” he said. “And when I say I wish I did, I mean it would be best for you if I did. I’m not good,” he repeated. “I’m…” There was a helplessness in his striking eyes. “I’m not a match for anyone, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting it. You know?”
Oof. Her heart hurt. She could understand that feeling. She nodded slightly. “Did you have a big relationship that hurt you?” she guessed.
Stellan sat back down at the table. “I like this. I like the not-small talk. Small talk pisses me off. I like the big questions.” Now they were getting somewhere.
“I had a girl. She was the one to me when I was younger, before I got messed up. Something happened and it changed me, and she couldn’t do it.
” He shook his head and averted his eyes, like he was hiding pain.
“The change inside of me wasn’t her fault.
It was mine. But I wanted her to keep me. ”
There was a pain building in Laramie’s chest. This was the most honest conversation she’d had with anyone in years. Maybe ever.
“That must’ve been hard.”
“It was a long time ago,” he said. “You asked if I had a girl before. I did, but she belonged to the before.”
“The before?” she asked.
“When I was still myself. Before I became…” He gestured to himself.
“Before you became what?” she asked, desperate for clarity.
He huffed a breath. “Come on,” he said softly.
Confused, Laramie shook her head.
He held her gaze and his eyes seemed to lighten as he said it again, even softer. “Come on. I’m not like those guys in there.”
“Stellan, what are you saying?” she asked, needing him to spell it out for her, whatever he was trying to tell her.
“Forget it,” he said in a rush. “This is wrong. It’s a bad idea.” He grabbed his food and strode off.
“I want you to stay,” she said plainly. “With me.”
He shook his head hard and turned for her, strode straight for her, dropped his lunch at the table and locked his arm on the wood, then gripped her throat gently with his free hand invaded her space completely as his face drove toward hers.
An inch away from her lips, he paused, his gaze boring into her.
His pupils were so small right now, and his eyes looked a fiery gold.
Chills trembled up her spine as his attention dipped to her lips, then back up.
“I can hear your heart beating,” he whispered, so close. “It’s racing so fast.”
Oh, he was teasing her? She didn’t like teasing. Defiant and bold, she pushed toward him and kissed him, then bit his bottom lip gently before she eased back.
His eyes were still open, but now the teasing smile was gone from his lips, and the look of a hunter had taken over his expression.
Chills, chills, chills.
He leaned in and hovered his lips millimeters from hers, and then he pressed his lips to hers.
His hand went from her throat to the back of her neck and held her in place as he kissed her.
His tongue brushed hers, and then he was done.
He ended the kiss and stood to his full height.
His face seemed sharper. He looked different, and his eyes even looked an odd shape.
Now her heart was really racing. She didn’t know why this question tumbled from her lips. She only knew she couldn’t help it. She needed to know. “I have another big question,” she told him. “It’s not a small-talk question.”
He cocked his head and looked more animal than man. “Ask.”
“Are you human?”
A slow, feral smile stretched his lips. “You’re getting warmer,” he murmured.
And with that non-answer, Stellan left all of their food on the table and walked away. She watched him stride across the entire empty lot. Watched him pull his coveralls back over his muscular shoulders, and zip them up.
She watched for him to look back at her, but he didn’t. Not until he reached the door.
Only then did he cast a look back at her in the split second before he disappeared inside.
Laramie sat there with the back of her hand pressed against her throbbing lips.
The butterflies in her stomach were rioting.
Her body shook, but not from fear.
From wanting. From desire.
Her breath was rushed, her shoulders heaving with it.
Never in her life had she been kissed like that.
If she had ruined his peaceful table, then he had wrecked her peaceful soul.