Page 92 of Tight Spot

Five days, and I’d heard nothing from Dawson. No apology, not even a text making sure I’d gotten home okay.

The silence said it all.

Our agreement was done, and the only way to start moving on was to keep moving forward.

The brutal heat was keeping most weekday shoppers away, so the store was slow, giving me plenty of opportunity to work on smaller items in my workshop and rearranging the shelves to give the place a fresh look. It’d pick up in a few weeks, once school was out, but I wished it could have been the holiday season or something, anything to keep me busy and distracted. As it was, sanding and painting and staining in my workroom gave me too much time to think about Dawson.

Time to think about that piercing of his I’d never truly felt inside of me. Think of all the questions I’d wanted to ask about his tattoos but hadn’t had the courage. It gave me too much time to think about the way he smiled at me, the way he’d so perfectly enacted some of the scenes of my books. That he’d stood tall in front of my dad, stood up for me, gave my dad all his baggage and had my dad respecting him and supporting him in a matter of moments.

Stupid freaking Dawson with his wicked smile, talented fingers and tongue, and dick piercing I never got to fully enjoy.

I tossed down my staining cloth and huffed, went to the bathroom, and washed my hands.

To my surprise, the store was no longer empty when I stepped out of the bathroom.

Isaac was there, Jelly the Cat on a leash at his side, Peanut Butter nowhere to be found. He was glancing down at a table of signs, stained, painted, and stenciled with a country finish on them. The sayings varied. From “Hey there sweet cheeks” for a bathroom to “Get Naked.”

He’d bought a lot of items from me, but I doubted a country chic look was what he was going for in his upstairs apartment.

“Hey,” I called to him.

Isaac’s head rose, and he smiled in my direction. The smile quickly faded as he stepped toward me. “How are you?”

Oh. That was a very pity-filled question. “Tuevo told you?”

Mine was a statement more than a question. Considering when Isaac found out I was with Dawson, he wasn’t thrilled, him knowing we were now no longer together, didn’t really thrill me.

Isaac shrugged. Answer enough, I supposed. “You doing all right?”

His concern was genuine, and it was my turn to shrug. “It was only a couple weeks.”

I could play it off for others, but internally, my gut rolled. It had only been a few weeks, but I’d hoped for more. So much more.

Foolish, foolish me.

He scanned the store, and when his eyes met mine again, he rocked back on his heels. “This is probably too soon, but I feel like I need to be honest.”

“Okay….”

“My mom died when I was seven, and I don’t have a sister.”

“What? That’s horrible,” was my first response, then I realized… “So, but…you’re always in here buying things for them.” Confusion knotted my rows together.

A half-smile popped on his face, and then he shoved his lips to one side. “Yeah. Except maybe I’m not shopping for them.”

“I don’t get it.” I really, really didn’t. “Why would you lie?”

“Because you were engaged to Darrick, and then I was giving you time to heal from that, and then Dawson showed up.”

No. No way. He couldn’t be saying…

“Isaac…”

“I’ve been coming into this store to buy things for people who don’t exist so I could spend a few minutes with you, yeah.”

Holy crap. I’d never thought. Never once suspected. Hell, up until two weeks ago, I didn’t even realize he knew Meredith or Tuevo. Someone had to start giving me “how not to be oblivious” lessons.

Stat.

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