He glares at me. “I still have a gun.”
“Which is under lock and key,” Fee huffs.
“Right.” He winces. “I forgot about that.”
I grin. “I’m glad that the big bad man is not scare of his itty bitty girlfriend.”
“I’m not scared of Fee,” he huffs.
“That’s not what you told me the other night.”
“That was private,” Monroe hisses at Darius. My eyes slide over to Fee and her lips quiver.
“Let’s get this party started.”
“This is going to be a long day.”
Monroe nods at his cashier. “I got someone to help temporarily. I want to keep a close eye on this project.”
Fee groans. “Translation…he wants to play with power tools and he’s getting off on it.”
Choking, I groan dismally. “You need to stop saying that kind of stuff in front of me. Especially after what you did last night. I know what you guys were doing,” I hiss.
She giggles. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.”
“Ugh.” I walk away. “You guys are sick.”
Both of them laugh out loud and Darius grins at me. “Sounds like a story.”
“Not one I want to tell,” I huff. “I’ve got class this morning anyway. I’ll catch you guys later.”
I nod over at Darius and he smiles back at me. “Stay safe, angel. I’ll see you later.”
It’s actually hard to leave. But this is my day away from the shop and I only really showed up to see Darius.
“I’ll see you, Dare.”
Just two old friends saying good-bye.
So why does the air hum with all these electric feelings that sizzle like they’re about to explode.
I can’t help looking back at him and catching his dark eyes. He grins and salutes me with a finger on his brow.
I pull out and drive to the next town over where my classes are held this morning.
But the whole way there, I can’t help wondering why his eyes sparkled a little more this morning.
* * *
By the time I come back that afternoon, I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep well last night and the class was a hard one on art history. We’re deep in the impressionist period and it’s not my favorite. I’m much more a romanticism girl.
And then there’s Byron. He’s been following me around and I am having a hard time convincing him that I’m not interested.
Which is why when I walk into the diner, I wince and almost turn around.
I’m so damn hungry though.
So I square my shoulders and stomp over to a small table in the corner. I sit down and almost sigh in relief when the waitress comes over. “The usual, Harper?”
