Page 8 of From the Wreckage
I exhale and start walking, my heeled sandals clicking against the sidewalk as I head downtown to my favorite store.
My heart’s still thumping when I push open the door to The Pine & Page.The bookstore smells like coffee and paperbacks, the air cool against my skin. I head for the shelves near the back, running my fingers along the spines and randomly pulling out anything that looks interesting. But no matter how many blurbs I read, my mind keeps drifting.
First, the guy in the black truck. Now the guy on the Harley.
I’ve hardly thought about Joey, despite him regularly texting me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I head backto my dad’s shop with two coffees, a new novel, and his package. He grins when I walk through the door.
“Ahh... There she is.” His eyes sparkle, and I stop, staring at him. I know he’s up to something.
“What’s up, Dad?”
His grin widens. “How do you know anything’s up?”
“You have that look on your face.”
He chuckles and moves closer, taking the package and his coffee from my hands. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Yeah?” I look around the shop. “I hope it’s not a motorcycle.”
“Nah. You don’t have a license for that.” His hand moves to my back, steering me to the back door of the shop. “This is much better for you.”
He opens the door, and I step outside into the bright sunshine. I squint… and then I see it.
“I-Is that mine?” My voice trembles slightly as I stare at the silver SUV.
“Yup. Figured I’d give you an early?—”
His words cut off as I throw myself against him, hugging him tightly. He staggers before regaining his balance. His laugh as he returns my hug warms my heart.
“I’m glad you like it, kiddo,” he murmurs.
I pull back, my eyes sparkling. “I love it.”
“C’mon. Let’s check it out.”
CHAPTER 7
Everett
I’m poundingnails into the fence, trying to fix a loose board, when the hammer hits my thumb. I curse, shaking my hand as the pain courses through it. “Dammit. Focus.”
The problem is I can only focus on one thing—the brunette outside the post office.
For two fucking days, she’s haunted my thoughts and dreams. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to shake the image of her staring at me. Even though my helmet obscured her view of my face, it was the way she looked at me. Desire and hunger plain on her face and in her eyes. Like she wanted to come closer.
Blowing out a breath, I look at my thumb. It’s swelling, and I’ll need to put ice on it. But not right now. I’m determined to finish this fence.
You need to forget about her. How would she feel if she figured out who you are? The headlines from what you did.
I shake the thought away, my attention on the nail as I pound it so hard into the wood, I’m surprised I don’t splinter it.
I’m well aware of my sordid past. And that I should stay away from her.
The problem is, I’m not sure I can.
