Chapter Eight
“What did you do over the weekend?” Murph asked. But his tone was weird.
Laramie turned to look at him. He was staring at her over his glasses, while he was peeking out from behind his computer monitor.
“I relaxed. Ate good food. Slept.”
“Okay, keep your secrets.”
“What secrets?” she asked, knowing dang-well what he was really asking about.
“If you’re starting an in-office romance with my most volatile employee, I need to know.”
Laramie turned back to her computer and finished inputting the last customer’s order. “If you are speaking of Stellan, we are just friends.” Friends who boned four times this weekend.
“He’s a walking red flag,” Murph warned her.
“And that’s why we are just friends,” she sang back to him.
“Listen, I can’t have you messing with his head. This entire shop runs on his back. It’s hard enough to control his attitude on any given day. I don’t need you messing with his head and making it harder to manage him.”
Stellan chose that moment to come in the front door. He was fifteen minutes early for his shift. “Hey Murph,” he greeted their boss. He didn’t say anything to Laramie, but he did wink at her as he passed by to head to the break room.
“I don’t think he’s ever said hello to me before,” Murph muttered.
Laramie offered a private smile and went back to sending the notes on the customer’s want for leveling his truck to the service center computer system. She was starting to get all this down.
Stellan came out of the break room zipping up his coveralls and tossed her another gold-eyed look that damn near melted her insides. He disappeared through the service doors to start work.
This morning he’d sent her a good morning text. Kind of. He texted her, Wake up, L. We have shit to accomplish today and then afterward, I’m going to find a place to bend you over. I woke up hungry for you. I made you a sandwich so you have plenty of energy.
And you know, it wasn’t the most romantic good morning text, but she was beginning to understand Stellan’s language.
One, he liked to feed her. That was his language of affection as far as she could tell.
He hadn’t let her contribute a penny to their food all weekend and they’d met up three times.
And second, the fact that he’d woken up and immediately thought of her was a step in the right direction for that man.
Work sped by because they were so busy. Murph assured her that every Monday was like this, since the company was closed on Sundays. It wasn’t until Craig came back from his lunch break and told her, “Have fun with Loverboy,” that she realized it was breaktime.
She had a line of three customers, so she closed them all out before she let Murph take over her station though.
Stellan was slammed too, and when she glanced out the service window, he was unloading tires from a Toyota Tacoma at a speed that was absolutely inhuman.
The guys must’ve been used to it, because they were just staying out of his way and working on other cars.
The music was turned up loud out in the service center today, blasting some heavy metal.
Stellan was in his groove, so she knocked on the window.
When he looked up, she gestured to the break room.
“Can I get a sandwich?” she asked at normal volume.
He held up five fingers. Five minutes, he mouthed as he loaded a tire onto a big machine. Be right there.
Perfect. She would get them all set up. She bought two sodas out of the vending machine, but it gave her the wrong ones.
Today’s drinks were orange soda and grape soda.
She grabbed the bag of lunch and headed out the front door, aiming for the picnic table tucked just behind the tree line, when a gargantuan man stepping out of a big black pickup truck caught her attention.
At first, she thought she was imagining it. He looked just like Stellan, but when he locked eyes with her, his eyes were bright blue.
He was headed for the front door.
“Hey, I know you,” she said.
“I bet you don’t,” he said gruffly as he reached for the door.
“No, I really do. You’re…you’re…” What had Stellan said his name was? The blue-eyed brother.
“Look lady, I have a woman. She would kick your ass if she saw you hitting on me—”
“Mars! Your name is Mars. You’re Stellan’s brother.”
The man looked absolutely shocked, and released the door handle, allowing the door to swing closed. “You know Stellan?”
“Yeah!” she said excitedly. “I saw a picture of you in his house.”
Mars blinked hard and his dark eyebrows arched up. “I’m sorry. None of those words made sense. You’ve been to his house? And he has a picture of me?”
“Yeah. Hanging up in his hallway.”
The man just blinked at her, completely frozen in front of the shop.
“Well, this has been weird.”
“I’m Laramie,” she introduced herself, juggling both the drinks and the sack lunch in one arm as she offered her hand for a shake. “I work here. With Stellan. Your brother.”
Slowly, he unfroze and shook her hand hard enough to grind her bones. “Geez. You boys sure are strong,” she said politely as she shook out her aching hand.
“Oh. Sorry,” he mumbled. “So, you…you work with him?”
“Yep. He will be out any second now. It’s our lunch break.”
Mars glanced down at the food and drinks she held pressed against her stomach. “And how long has he worked here?”
Red flag. Laramie frowned. “I’m not sure.
You’re his brother. You should know.” Although to be honest, she’d kind of been worried that Mars and Dame were dead.
Stellan sometimes lumped them into the past tense.
She was really relieved that wasn’t the case.
“Is Dame alive?” she asked, just to make sure.
“Uh, yes. Why? Did Stellan say he was dead?”
“No. I was just curious. Well, he’s out in the shop if you want to sit in the waiting area.
You’ll be able to see him through the window.
” She was rambling because she didn’t know how to excuse herself from this strange conversation.
Did Mars know anything about Stellan? Why had he asked how long his own brother had worked here? Something was off.
“Okay, bye,” she rattled on. “It was nice to meet you.” Mostly strange to meet him, but okay.
The door swung open, and Stellan shoved Mars back in a blur. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded, eyes flashing a fiery gold.
“You won’t answer your damn phone!” Mars barked.
“So you stalked me?”
“We’re supposed to be meeting up this week, and you’ve ignored all of our attempts to contact you. What else was I supposed to do?”
“Leave me alone!” Stellan barked out. “How did you even find me?”
“Well, Dame put a tracker on your truck.”
“What?” Stellan gritted out in a snarling voice that lifted chills up Laramie’s spine.
“Look, your girlfriend said—”
“She’s not my girlfriend! I work with her.” Oh, the vitriol in Stellan’s tone made Laramie drop her gaze to the concrete as she absorbed the sting of his rejection.
“Then why does she smell like you?”
“Because we fuck. That’s all it is and I don’t need you making this into a bigger thing than it is! None of my personal life is any of your business. You have your mate. Dame has his. I can fuck whoever I want. This week, it’s her.”
She felt slapped with every insult. And that’s what it was. She was just some plaything.
It hadn’t felt like that until now.
A couple of the guys had piled out of front door, and a few more had come around the corner of the building.
Stellan was squared off with Mars, and they were both yelling, but she couldn’t hear what they were arguing about over the roaring in her ears.
This week, it’s her.
She was just the flavor of the week.
But for her? She’d liked him. She’d been comfortable with him. She’d given herself to him.
Laramie felt sick.
Time had slowed. Stellan was gesturing toward her, and Mars had his hands thrown up into the air. Stellan cast a glance back at her, but she was already bending down to set the drinks and food down. She didn’t want to touch them anymore.
He started heading for her, but stopped at something Mars said from behind him, and then he was locked back on his brother.
Laramie pushed past Craig and Murph and made her way inside.
Murph followed her. “You good?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she answered numbly. “That needed to happen. It’s a good thing. I’m glad it happened now and not six months from now.”
“You still have thirty-five minutes on your lunch break,” he said as she took her place behind the computer.
“Oh. Right. I’ll just go to the bathroom.” She forced a smile.
Murph’s gray brows were drawn down with his sympathetic look. “I tried to tell you.”
“It’s fine. Everything is fine. Did everyone hear?”
Murph pursed his lips. That was answer enough.
“Great. I’ll just be back after lunch then, okay?”
“Okay. You can take extra time if you want,” Murph offered.
“I’m totally fine. I promise.”
She was a liar.
Laramie made her way into the women’s restroom and locked the door behind her. She felt so sick to her stomach.
She padded over the squeaky tile floor to the counter and locked her arms against the cold granite and stared at herself in the mirror.
She looked pale as a ghost, and like she’d never smiled in her life.
She blinked and dropped her gaze to the sink and began to wash her hands just to feel the cool water against her burning skin.
It was fair. He’d told her not to get too deep. He’d taken a video of him fucking her—fucking her, not making love to her—as a reminder of what they were. And he was comfortable with saying it in front of mixed company. She’d made a mistake.
Laramie nodded slowly, scrubbing soap all over her hands vigorously. Why did she feel so dirty right now?
This was good. He was just a distraction, right?
She’d come to Salt Lake with a purpose, and she hadn’t done any memory lane adventures all weekend.
She’d been too wrapped up in Stellan. Whatever it was that made him irresistible, she had to move past it.
She needed to get her mind back and focus on what was important.
She could never be whole again if she didn’t get through the memory lane adventures.
Stellan was a consuming man, and it felt fun, but maybe he was fire and she hadn’t realized she was getting burned.
It wasn’t just fun for her. She had to woman up and admit it. She looked forward to text messages, she liked the intimacy, she liked feeling like she was special to him.
She’d been such a stupid girl.
“Look at him,” she gritted out. “You didn’t match from the jump.” Stellan looked like a ten, and she was a six at best, if she was in full hair and make-up and wore shapewear. Of course she was a toy. Of course he would be ashamed of her. This week, it’s her.
So next week it would be someone else? Who was it last week?
She scrubbed her hands harder.
Her eyes were burning.
Because we fuck. That’s all it is.
That’s all it is.
She’s not my girlfriend!
The fire in his tone made her stomach clench. She would never get that stuff out of her head.
She felt so…so…less-than.
A tear fell into the running water.
Laramie just had to flip the switch. The hurt would go away if she did that. She knew how to do it. She’d done it before. Turn the emotions off, and she didn’t have to feel any of this.
“Just turn it off,” she murmured to herself.
And she did.