Page 40 of Buried Dreams

By the time noon rolls around, we are sold out of all the donuts, and a couple of the construction workers come out and ask if I make lunch. I have to sadly tell them I don’t. So I make a list of things I would need if I made wraps and sandwiches. I could prepare them in the morning and maybe my mother would be able to bring them to me. I’m cleaning up and closing up the truck when I look down and see my social media has lots of comments. I smile while I take a second to answer a couple of questions before I look over at the garage.

My feet move before my head tells me to get in my car and go. Pulling open the door, I hear the sound of machinery, and I stand here in the waiting area for someone to come and help me. Ryan is the one who comes out, and he smiles at me. “Everleigh,” he says, “what can I help you with?”

“Is Brock here?” I ask, the tightness in my stomach forming as he nods and yells over his shoulder for him before walking back into the garage.

It’s a couple of minutes later when Brock walks into the waiting area, a grease rag in his hand as he wipes them clean or at least tries to. His eyes widen in surprise to see me, and I can’t help but see he looks tired and wonder if he had a hard time sleeping like I did. “Hi,” I say, lifting my hand, suddenly nervous around him.

“Hey,” he returns, his tone softer than it has been the last couple of times when I’ve seen him. There is no harshness to his voice. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I confirm, nodding my head and looking behind him to make sure we are both alone. “I was hoping you could talk.”

“Everleigh,” he says my name on a whisper and a sigh.

“You said what you had to say, but you didn’t give me a chance to say anything,” I point out to him. I have no idea if I have anything more to actually say, but I know we are not finished with the conversation.

“I don’t think there is anything left to be said.” He reads my thoughts.

“I think there is.” I stand firm. “There are things I want to know, and forgive me, but you owe it to me to explain.”

He takes a deep inhale. “Fine,” he agrees, “but I’m not doing this here.” He looks over his shoulder, also making sure no one is there. “Come by my house tonight after six. I’ll make dinner for us.”

I try not to smile, but I fail. “Okay, I’ll bring dessert,” I offer. Then see the way his eyes and his face light up, “I didn’t mean that kind of dessert, I’ll meant I’ll bring donuts.” He chuckles, and it brings a warmth to my body I didn’t know I needed at that moment. “I’ll see you then.” I quickly turn and walk out of the garage before he changes his mind.

Chapter Twenty-Two

BROCK

Instead of going after her and telling her there is nothing else to talk about—fuck, how much more can there be to talk about—I watch her walk away. My heart hammers in my chest so fast that it feels like it’s going to come out of it. My eyes fixate on her as she walks over to her car and gets in. Her hair blows a bit in the wind, and I can admit that my heart aches watching her. I knew it would, knew it would fucking hurt. But again, instead of turning away and saving myself the pain, I’m adding more to it by inviting her into my home. A space that is reserved for Saige and me. A space I longed to have her in, so she could see what I created even though she hated me.

I close my eyes, breathing in deeply. “You okay?” I hear Ryan ask when he walks in with a work order in his hand.

“Yeah.” I nod, tucking the rag in my back pocket. “I’m going to head out,” I say, and he just looks at me with his eyebrows pinched together as he sits on the chair, fixing all of the papers on the front desk and putting them in a pile.

“You have Saige this week?” he asks, knowing that unless I have Saige, I’m always the last one to leave.

“No,” I reply, “but I have something to do.” I don’t give him a chance to ask me anything before I walk back to my office and grab my keys. When I walk back out, he’s still there figuring out all the paperwork and where to put everything. “Leave that. I’m going to see if I can figure it out tomorrow night.”

“Nah,” he says, “I just finished my work order, and it’s too late to start another car, so I’m going to fix this.” He holds up the papers in his hand. “And then head out early unless you need me for anything.”

“I’m good. Take off early,” I say, pushing open the glass door and heading out to my truck. I stop by the grocery store before heading home. Marinating the steaks I bought, I wash the potatoes and then place them in the oven with some carrots before heading back to my bedroom, undressing, and taking a shower.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous before in my life. I don’t even know why I’m that nervous. At almost six o’clock, I open the fridge door to grab myself a beer when I hear a car door slam. My head turns and my eyes immediately go to the front window, where I see her standing there by the driver’s side of the car, parked on the street, looking at the house. I’m sure she’s looking at the changes I’ve done to the front. Like the big glass window that gives the whole house light. Especially with the extension of the two-car garage on one side. The house is painted a bright white with wooden shutters, which is different from the brown it was painted back in the day. I open the beer, watching her from the kitchen as she just looks at the house. I’m wondering if she’s thinking about running away, getting back into the car and taking off. I wouldn’t blame her. Fuck, I might do the same if I was in her shoes. But I watch her take a huge inhale, close her eyes, and then walk back to the back passenger door. She grabs a plate out of the back before making her way up the walkway. I take a pull of the beer and walk toward the door, making it at the same time that she rings the bell.

I pull open the door, and she looks up at me. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set my eyes on. She always has been. Her beauty used to take my breath away, but now it’s so much more. My breath is taken away, but my heart soars in my chest. I know right then and there that I will never love anyone like I love her. She was it for me, and I let her go. I ruined it all. “Hi,” she says with a smile and tears welling in her eyes as she blinks them away.

“Hi,” I say, moving out of the way for her to come in. She steps in, and I smell her perfume, and my dick stirs just by the scent of her. My hands itch to come up and touch her, but I can’t do it to myself. I don’t think I would just stop at touching her. “Welcome,” I add nervously, closing the door behind her. “Come in.”

“Wow,” she declares as she follows me inside and sees the open concept I made the house. “You’ve changed it quite a bit,” she observes. I nod at her, watching her turn, her long, flowered skirt floating around her. The tank top shows off just a touch of her smooth stomach, and I want to get on my knees to kiss her right in the middle and see if she still gets goose bumps from my touch. If she will still shiver. “It’s beautiful,” she finally says, standing looking at the big family room that faces the kitchen. “I made my new donuts.” She holds up the plate, and I lean forward to grab it from her, hoping I can touch her fingers, even if it’s just grazing them. Nothing happens when I take it from her as I look down and see the sugary goodness.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask as I take the plate to the island, and she looks at me.

“Are you having something?” Her voice is soft as she fidgets with her hands nervously.

“I’m having a beer,” I say, putting the plate down next to the open bottle of beer.

“I’ll have one too, I guess.” I walk over to the fridge, grabbing her one and tossing the cap in the trash before turning to her.

“Cup or bottle?” I know she would always drink out of the bottle back in the day, but she is older. It’s suddenly dawned on me that she had a whole life without me, and I know nothing about it.

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