Page 6 of Wrecked
Suddenly she was sixteen again, standing on the veranda of the cottage, tears streaming down her face after the school dance. Not one boy had asked her to dance, and one of the girls had pointed it out, telling her it was because she was fat. Cole had been leaving their house when she’d gotten home. He’d taken one look at her, pulled her into his arms…and started swaying. They’d stayed like that for a long time. Until long after she’d stopped crying.
Finally he’d kissed the top of her head, told her she was beautiful, and left.
As the music wound down, he loosened his hold, distancing himself slightly, and the memory vanished, pulling her back to the present.
Puffs of his warm breath danced across her hair and cheek, and she had to fight not to burrow deeper, not to cling tighter. Not to make a total fool of herself.
He stared down at her, and she stared back, locked in place and quietly freaking out. His heated look surprised the hell out of her. They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, so long she started to think he might actually kiss her.
But then the next song began, and the remaining guests came out to join them on the dance floor.
Cole cleared his throat and frowned. “Looks like I have to thank you again.”
“For what? We were supposed to dance.” She shrugged with a carelessness she didn’t feel. “We danced.”
His frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything, instead he placed a hand at her lower back and steered her to the table. Flustered, she started to walk away when they got to her seat, needing a moment alone, needing some space to clear her head.
But Cole wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and pulled her to a stop. “You’re certainly going above and beyond today. I’m sorry you had to suffer through that.”
It was impossible to miss the bitterness twisting his expression. “Suffer?”
The scarred skin by his mouth puckered slightly. “Dancing with the cripple.” She flinched, but he shook his head and laughed, the sound humorless. “I don’t want your goddamn pity, Piper. I’d rather you go back to hating my guts.”
What in the hell? “I don’t hate you.”
His eyes flashed, going from ice to searing heat in a split second. “No?”
“Of course not.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Shit, just forget it.”
No, the guy didn’t want her pity. She got that. She did. But he was making assumptions, assuming he knew the way she felt, what she was thinking. And he was way off base.
Still, she found the urge to reassure him outweighed her need to tell him off for feeling sorry for himself, for thinking so little of her.
Grabbing his tie, she tugged him closer, enjoying the surprised look on his face. “I danced with you so I could feel you up. Rusty wasn’t wrong, you look hot in that suit.”
He jerked back and blinked down at her. “Piper…”
Before he ruined everything by opening his big fat mouth and saying something to piss her off, she winked. “Have a good night.” Then she spun on her heels and walked away.
Not surprisingly, he kept his distance after that.
Piper washed her hands and looked in the mirror. With all the running about making sure everything stayed on schedule during the reception, followed by hitting the dance floor, her unruly blond waves had broken free of most of the pins the hair stylist had painstakingly put in that morning, so she pulled out the rest, leaving it down. Her makeup wasn’t looking that great, either. She applied more lipstick, then checked the safety pin holding the broken strap of her dress in place. It was late, and her feet hurt from her heels. Alex and Deke had left a few minutes ago, and Rusty and Reid were in full-on make-out mode on the dance floor. If she could pull them off each other long enough, she could beg a ride home.
The party was still in full swing. She should be out there enjoying herself, but she just wanted to go home. Her encounters with Cole had thrown her off balance, and if she wasn’t thinking about him and his odd behavior, she was thinking about the 1962 Chevy Nova she’d bought last week. The body was in rough shape. It’d need new custom panels made and the engine required a full re-build. She was dying to get her hands on it. Ever since her father died and she, Rusty, and Alex took over the shop, she’d spent most of her time in the office, making sure their business continued to grow and expand.
When she wasn’t in the office, she was doing jobs that were far from challenging.
Alex and Rusty did all the restoration work now, while Piper got stuck with the late-model cars that came in. Oil changes, hose replacements, weird sounds coming from under the hood. Those jobs were just as important to their business, but Piper wanted to work on classic cars. She wanted to make new panels, re-build engines that were older than her and make them purr.
Alex and Rusty had lost faith in her ability, or maybe they’d never believed she had it in the first place. Oh, they knew she was a good mechanic, and they hadn’t out and out said it to her, they never would, but it was obvious. She intended to show them how wrong they were when she unveiled the Chevy.
She’d prove to them exactly what she could do, that she was every bit as good as them.
More guilt assaulted her, she felt terrible thinking that way, but what else could she do? Her brother and sister, even Alex, they had her best interests at heart, thought they were helping when they got involved in her life, or stepped in her path completely in order to “save” her from herself. But they were stifling her, showing her they didn’t believe she could make decisions for herself. She didn’t know how to tell them how she felt. Their overprotectiveness made her feel inadequate, incapable, and sometimes just plain hurt.
So she’d have to show them.
