Then, a huge van stopped in front of me.
Oh, please no. Just let them drive on.
I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I just wanted to disappear into the anonymity of a public bus and hide in a back seat until we arrived in the city centre. Then my eyes landed on the sticker on the door. “Wild Bull Roast”, it read.
Crap.
I tried for a smile like Eloise Gillam’s, but all I managed was a grimace.
Ross sat in the driver’s seat and looked at me for a minute, as if it took him a while to understand what he saw, then he checked the wing mirror and got out of his van.
Chapter Four
Ross
Iwas on the way to the workshop earlier than usual. It was barely five but I’d given up on trying to sleep past four. That was when I woke so abruptly it was as if someone had shouted in my ear.
Every fucking day.
No matter how late I’d gone to bed, or how exhausted I was.
Thursday morning was when I didn’t have any deliveries. I tried to use the time to roast and get new customers.
How’s that going for you, asshole?
Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel didn’t help, but it pulled me out from between my horns, at least, for a few moments.
Then I spotted the figure huddled inside a bus stop about two miles from Finnegan Square. I recognised them.
I indicated and stopped, then I reversed until I was right next to her.
“Autumn?” I asked once I got out of my van.
She hastily wiped her tear-streaked face on her coat sleeve and looked at me. Fake bravado and apprehension mingled in her eyes, and she sniffed.
“Ross?” she said with a poorly and obviously forced grin on her lips. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask ye the same question.”
I huffed. “I’m on my way to work.” Her patently faked cheerfulness bugged me because I knew that her normal was that happy-go-lucky attitude I saw at the cafe every Wednesday.
“You’re crying at a bus stop. While that might be a catchy song title, it doesn’t look like fun,” I said, watching her blush. “Can I take ye to work?”
“What? No, I’m okay.”
And barely breathing past your sternum.
“Autumn. Please let me help or I’ll sit here and wait for your panic attack to end.” I took a seat next to her and her shoulders dropped away from her shoulders.
“It’s…I’m…”
“It’s okay. I’ve been there,” I muttered and gently bumped her arm with my elbow. “Believe me, I know what a panic attack looks like.”
“Oh gosh, you’re warm.” Autumn chuckled and gnawed her bottom lip for a moment. Then she got to her feet and approached the van.
“Thank ye for letting me give you a ride.” Part of me was proud of her for not jumping into my van, the other part wanted to get this tiny, crying woman off the streets as soon as possible.
She got in, buckled her seatbelt, and tried to make herself even smaller.
