Page 36 of Faking It at Sea

I normally loved road trips, but this time around, every mile dragged. Every delay heightened my dread of what I would find when I finally got there. It probably didn’t help that I hit the road at four in the morning because I couldn’t make myself wait another minute. Or that I drove straight through, stopping only to use the restroom and get fuel.

My nerves were so raw when I finally pulled up to the curb outside his shop that it took me a solid five minutes just to peel my fingers away from the steering wheel.

Hope and dread circled each other like a pair of weary fighters as I opened the door and stepped out. My legs were unsteady, my hips stiff, and for all the time I’d had to imaginehow this moment would go, I couldn’t think of a single opening line that didn’t sound lame.

I moved around to the sidewalk, taking a second to pull in a deep breath and shake out my body as I stared at the gray brick building that housed Shadow & Steel Customs. Sutton’s logo, which featured the company name in Old English lettering laid over a polished chain gear that was half-hidden in shadow, was painted on the wall above the double glass doors.

From the way he’d talked about it during the cruise, I’d been expecting a single-man shop tucked away in some ramshackle garage. His website was a real eye-opener. Seeing it in person was even more impressive, which only amplified the insecurities chipping away at my resolve.

Sutton had a good life in Stonemore Heights. He was handsome, charming, respectful, and successful. The kind of guy who could have his pick of beautiful women.

I looked at my SUV and debated climbing back in and slinking back to Idaho without him ever knowing I’d made the trip. It was tempting. The cautious side of me was all for running away before I got my fool heart broken.

But I hadn’t come this far to turn around and leave without at least seeing him.

A low bark pulled my attention to a stocky blue heeler standing at the corner of the building. We were locked in a staring standoff for a minute, until I knelt on the sidewalk and made kissy sounds, and he came running with the nub of his tail flicking back and forth.

“Hey, buddy,” I cooed. He barreled into me with a playful pounce, knocking me on my butt.

He was a sweet little monster, and a heck of a lot friendlier than most heelers I’d met, considering I was a total stranger. He tried to sit in my lap, spun around, bounced over me, circledaround me to lick my face a few times, and all I could do through it all was laugh.

When I finally managed to get my knees under me, he was right there, nudging me to scratch him behind the ears. His grumbled appreciation was one of the best sounds I’d heard in ages.

“Finley!”

Speaking of sounds.

Sutton stepped into view, and I forgot how to breathe. He froze, his gaze heavy and unreadable while sweet Finley wiggled in front of me.

Damn, he looked good. His black, short sleeve work shirt showcased the tattoos running down his forearms, and his worn jeans hung just right on his hips.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to my feet. I’d mentally prepared myself for a lot of things on the long drive down, but one thing I didn’t expect was how much it would hurt to see that closed off expression on his face when I finally did see him again.

14

SUTTON

My legs carried me forward, but it wasn’t thanks to any conscious thought. I was still too stunned to see June to do much more than stare.

Was that really her? And was that really my fierce little protector bouncing around her like he was still a puppy?

Finley had turned into a fantastic dog over the years, but he still wasn’t quick to warm up to new people, let alone women. It had taken my mom months and countless treats to earn his trust. Yet, there he was, beaming up at June with stars in his eyes.

“Finley, come,” I managed to say, though my voice sounded like it had been dragged over asphalt.

He looked at me for a beat, then back up at June before racing over.

I’d closed most of the distance between us before regaining control of my legs and forcing myself to stop. It didn’t matter how badly I wanted to go to her. I refused to give in to that desire, because it was that desire that convinced me giving in for just one night wouldn’t hurt.

Getting a taste of her just to lose her the next morning had torn me up good. I’d lost count of how many times I’d started tosearch for her only to slam my laptop shut or shove my phone away.

June stood just out of arm's reach, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of her soft blue shirt.

Goddamn.It was torture having her so close, and I caught myself pulling in a deep breath in the hope that I could catch her scent. Would she smell like she did that last night at the gala, when I’d felt drunk in her presence?

Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and I had to ball my hands into fists to temper the memory of how it’d felt to tangle my fingers in those long locks. And that wasn’t the worst of it. Not when her black cargo capris hugged her hips in a way that made my traitorous mouth water.

Somehow, my memory hadn’t done her justice, even with the hint of shadows lingering beneath her eyes. Shadows that made it even harder to stand my ground.

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