Page 101 of Fiona and the Fixer

But was Fiona armed? Of course, she was. Plus, she’d been drinking. The chances of me groveling and surviving were fairly low.

Still, I had to risk it.

I ditched the donut and my friends–and Pancake who was happily settled in Jack’s arms giving me a look offuck you–and drove to Dottie’s. I parked at the curb but didn’t get out of the car, just sat there and stared at the house.

Fiona was in there.

She was safe, but for how long? I was expected to take care of her snooping problem and Jack was supposed to kill her because they realized she’d stolen some of their drugs.

If Jack and I didn’t take care of her, and soon, then someone else was going to be hired instead.

Fiona was mine and I protected what was mine.

“Fiona, I fucked up,” I said aloud. If she could hear me three blocks away in a moving car, then she could hear me sitting outside sitting in one.

“I should have told you the truth about what I did. Instead of putting you off or lying and saying repo work.” I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “It’s technically the truth because I repo’d a lot of people, but that’s not the point and it was still wrong.”

I hadn’t groveled before. Ever. Never had anyone I’d needed to grovel to.

Not because I was perfect, but because I didn’t have many–or any–people I cared about. Or what they thought of me. Or that I wasgood.

I fucked up. I’d done the wrong thing. I had to fix this.

FUCK. The fixer having to fix things. Go figure.

I hadn’t groveled alone in a car before either. I felt like an idiot talking to myself. But I wasn’t. I was talking to Fiona. I had to keep going. I had to say it all because out of all the things I had to fix, this was the most important.

“I came to Coal Springs to cat sit for Jack and Hannah while they were in Hawaii. Pancake is a snooty little fucker and needs attention to feel validated or something. I needed a break because there was too much work–yes, fixerwork. I was burnt out. Annoyed. Bored of it. I thought Coal Springs would be the peace and quiet I needed.”

I laughed at my former self and how clueless I’d been, because fate certainly fucked me over.

“I was so fucking wrong. The insanity started before I even got to town. When I saw this gorgeous woman lusting after a coffee pot in an out-of-the-way convenience store. For some reason, I wanted to talk to her. Get to know her. Yes, fuck her. But then she told me toget the fuck downand decided to take down an armed robber.” I shook my head and laughed. “You know what I did? I got hard. Yeah, like hammering fucking nails hard. Seeing you take care of that guy–while holding your beloved coffee–was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”

I hadn’t known it at the moment, but I’d met my match. So self-assured and independent.

I dropped my head back onto the headrest, stared in the rearview mirror. I wasn’t sure I liked what I saw, or even recognized myself. I was talking sappy shit in an empty car, assuming a woman with bionic hearing was listening in.

“The first time I wanted to keep talking to a woman, in a convenience store no less, I had to leave. Why? I had two dead bodies in my trunk that I had to take care of.” I shook my head as if she was there watching. “No, I didn’t kill them. They killed themselves with stupid shit like drugs. My job was to clean up the mess, including dead bodies that would turn into news stories. I didn’t need to hang around after the robbery with the cops showing up.”

I gripped the steering wheel and strangled it for a few seconds. Then I exhaled.

“The insanity continued when I got pulled into working at Hannah’s bookstore. I mean, me? Sell romance? Then you walked in. You. The coffee wielding superhero I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about who was as aloof as Jack’s cat. We had the best sex of my life behind the bookshelves–God, don’t tell Hannah or Jack–and left me with my dick out and still wet from your perfect pussy.”

My dick was hard thinking about what we did in the store, and I shifted in my seat. “I wasn’t done with you. No fucking way. You had me hooked. Your face. Your sass. Your pussy. I was a goner.

“From then on, you bolted. Over and over. Literally ran from me. I tried to get past those big walls you’ve built. I was patient and you know what? You let me in. Got on your knees for me and wasn’t that the sweetest thing. Told me about your job. Your mom. Your dad. The radiation. All of it. And you know what I shared? Pretty much nothing.”

I closed my eyes, admitted the truth.

“I’m afraid, sweetheart. All I know is that love is dangerous. People I love leave. What if I lose you, too? All by yourself, you walked up to a fucking armed robber, then walked into a pickle store and chatted with drug smugglers. Then snooped and stole from them. What you see asdoing your job, I see as reckless. Not because you can’t take care of yourself, because you sure as shit can, but as… ways you might be taken from me.”

I took a few deep breaths.

“Or worse. What if I tell you what I’m really like and you leave? I… won’t be able to handle the woman I love walking away. Yet, I kept quiet, and you bolted anyway.”

I turned my head, glanced up at Dottie’s picture-perfect house. I sucked in a breath at the sight of Fiona on her front porch. She was in the clothes she threw on when she got up, far from her usual put-together self. Her hair was down and wild–as if she’d been fucked good and hard and slept it off. She had on cut-off jean shorts and a simple white t-shirt with flip flops on her feet. Her purse was across her body, which meant she was armed. She looked… perfect.

Her hands were tucked in her front pockets, and she was biting her lip.

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