Page 68 of Kyle

“What did you do, Kyle?”

Again TJ answers for him. “He took a ride to his garage and beat the shit out of him.”

I put my fingertips to my mouth. “Oh, my God. Did you really?”

He won’t look or answer me.

“Kyle…”

“Okay, yeah. I did. But you weren’t supposed to know about it.”

“Way I heard it, he broke the dude’s leg,” TJ says, still volunteering information and making Kyle glare at him.

“Shut the fuck up, brother.”

I stare at Kyle until he turns to me. “Thank you,” I mouth.

He gets fidgety, rearranging things. “It was nothing. He got what he deserved.”

“It wasn’t nothing to me,” I reply.

“Go take that break,” he growls.

I bite away a smile, climb out of the truck, and walk with Gigi to a nearby table.

She heard everything and studies me with a grin.

“Wow. He really stepped up for you, huh?”

I stare at the truck. “I’ve been thinking of quitting.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can’t do this anymore. I’m starting to have feelings for him.”

“Oh,” Gigi whispers and tilts her head. “That is a dilemma.” She nabs an onion ring and munches on it. “I hear the club will be back soon. TJ thought they’d hit town anytime now.”

My shoulders slump.

“That’s not exactly the reaction of a girl excited her man is coming home.”

“I know. It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’m horrible.”

She reaches across the table. “You’re not horrible.”

TJ wanders over and snatches an onion ring, his eyes shifting from me to Gigi. “You ready to go?”

I surge to my feet. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Sutton, wait,” I hear Gigi say, but I’m already fast walking to the trailer. There’s another line.

I climb inside and barely look at Kyle. He seems uncomfortable now that I know what he did for me. I still can’t believe he rode to Burbank just to put Jerry in his place. No man has ever done that for me. I don’t know if Rafe would have done the same. I never told him. Maybe because I was afraid he wouldn’t care enough to do anything, and I didn’t want to face that.

I slice more onions to batter and put in the fryer.

Kyle glances over his shoulder. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about Jerry.”

I slip and slice my finger, cursing and dropping the knife.

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