Page 6 of His Old Lady

She jolted. "Shit."

Scrambling from her seat, she fell to her hands and knees to the floor, keeping her back to him. "Quick, get me a rag."

One more step, he could make out a bright, red spot on his carpet that hadn't been there that morning. He looked at her hand. She clutched a bottle of fingernail polish.

"Oh, geez," she mumbled, falling back on her ass and staring at the floor.

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a towel, and returned to her, tossing it on the floor in front of her.

She frantically blotted and scrubbed, making the mess bigger. "This is your fault. You didn't have to scare me half to death."

He grunted. The stain was the least of his concerns.

Having her on her hands and knees in front of him needed to end. He grabbed her elbow and hauled her to her feet.

Light brown eyes flashed up at him. She was the only person he knew who could have whole conversations by using her eyes and expressing her emotions without using any words. Her arched eyebrows were always moving—up, down, and sometimes not in sync. She had a way of glaring, moving only her eyelids, and keeping the rest of her face frozen. When he talked to her, those eyelids danced, distracting him, and he always ended up angry because he was weak.

They were only eyes. Brown ones at that.

But on Faye, they were the gateway to her heart and a talisman for her emotions.

"I need to go get my polish remover out of my bag. Maybe it'll work to get the stain out of the carpet." She tugged her arm, trying to step away from him.

He pulled her away from the sofa, and using his knee, shoved the couch over the stain. "There, it's gone."

She scoffed and pressed her full lips together. "I'll get it out if you let go of me."

Only then aware of holding her; he let her go and rubbed his palm across his stomach. "Forget the polish. What the hell are you doing in Missoula?"

She stepped away from him. "I was told you were partying with your MC brothers and would be gone. I needed somewhere to stay because my car is acting up. Paco is working on it now. I'll be gone in the morning."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She stuck out her lower lip and blew her hair out of her face. "I quit my job at the lounge and came into Missoula to scope out a few places where I can work part-time. I have an interview early in the morning, and once I'm done there, I'll go back home."

"You thought what? I wouldn't notice that you'd spent the night here?"

"Paco told me you were out drinking, so I figured you wouldn't even know I crashed here."

He growled. "I'd know."

"I thought it would be no big deal. You gave me a key."

He had given her a key to the house years ago because she had no one else to take care of her. She was his old lady. What else could he do?

"You got a job here?" He gritted his teeth. "Where?"

"Riverside Bar, not that it's any of your business."

"You live in Superior."

She shrugged. "The lounge wasn't working out for me, so I'm spreading my wings."

It was common for people to drive the hour distance from one town to the next for a job. Though, he'd bet working at the bar wouldn't give her much for money once she bought gas. Grandma June had a perfectly nice set-up on the oversized lot with a greenhouse and a stable of customers that provided extra money for Faye from all the plants she grew.

"I thought you were sinking more of your attention into the nursery and trying to get it to make enough money for you to live on, so you could work at home full-time," he said.

"I am, but it doesn't happen overnight. I have goals. Those goals require more money. Someday, if everything works out the way I want it to, I won't have to work a second job," said Faye.

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