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The movement squeezes her breasts closer together and Billy exhales a little noise.
I slap the clipboard against his chest. “Take that and fill it out. Leave it on my desk.”
“Yes, sir,” he says, slowly walking away but not taking his eyes off our visitor.
Leslie’s green eyes don’t stray from mine. “I brought a little breakfast. Dotty said you just got back in town, and I figured you could use some groceries. Muffin?” She pulls back the cloth cover and inside are purplish-tinted muffins. “They go great with coffee. Do you have some?”
“Ah, yeah, I just made a pot in the house.” I hold out a hand and we start toward the small cottage.
She follows me through the door into the miniscule dining area with the old linoleum table and only two chairs.
“Not much has changed, has it?” She looks around before flashing me a big smile. “I’m sure you’ll fix it up.”
The basket is on the table and she walks to the kitchen, opening cabinets until she finds plates over the sink. She reaches for them, and I glance away from her round ass straining in that dress.
“I might have to make some more coffee if you’d like some.” Going to the pot, I pull out the carafe and tilt it to the side.
“Don’t you dare!” Leslie pats my arm like she’s scolding me playfully. “I didn’t come here to make you work. I came here to take care of you.”
Something about the way she says it makes my stomach tighten. Leslie was always playing games like this, making eyes at me over Danny’s shoulder. Then I’d catch them in the back room either with Danny’s dick in her mouth or doing it doggy style against the wall.
She sets the old beige plate in front of me and pours a cup of coffee. “How are you doing… really?” She leans forward, giving me a straight shot down the front of her dress.
I pull up and take a step back. I might be conflicted over what to do about Drew, but I’m sure as hell not conflicted enough to get tangled in this web.
“I’m doing okay,” I lie, taking the mug and holding it between us. “Thanks for the muffins. I’d better get out and check on things. It’s Billy’s first day.”
She puts her hand on my waist. “Grayson. You can talk to me. We all know you were there when Danny died. You must be devastated.”
Normally, conversations like this cause my anxiety to rise, but I don’t have time for involuntary responses. A loud knocking on the door interrupts us, and Billy is outside calling through the door.
“Mr. Cole? I’m sorry to interrupt, but a customer is here asking for you.”
I pat Leslie on the shoulder. “Thanks again. I really do have to get to work.”
Setting the coffee on the counter, I charge out the door into the garage, curious as to who might be here so early.
A knot forms in my throat, and I’m not sure if I should be thrilled or alarmed when I see the car of my dreams, Carl Harris’s cherry red Jaguar, sparkling in the sun.
Drew stands just inside finishing up with the tow truck driver. She looks better than any vintage pinup in jeans and a basic tee. Her hair is done in a loose braid that hangs over one shoulder. My chest tightens at the sight of her when she turns and walks up beside her father’s car. I’ll never forget the day he brought it here… or how that day ended.
I do my best to act casual. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, there.” Drew gives me a dazzling white smile, and I have the sudden urge to kiss her. She seems to have forgotten whatever was bothering her last night. “I need a car, and Ruby suggested you might get this one going for me. At least I know you’ll be careful with it.”
I walk around the vehicle, inspecting the perfect chassis, the shining chrome, the pristine leather seats. “Yes, I will.”
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Billy walks up beside me and lets out a low whistle. “When was the last time you drove it?”
“I’ve never driven it.” Her chin drops, and she scuffs her brown cowboy boot on the pavement. “But to answer your question, I can’t remember the last time Dad took it out. Maybe ten years ago?”
“That long?” Billy’s face is total astonishment. “Why?”
I know she doesn’t want to answer that question. “Billy, get behind it and push it in here over the lift.” I step forward and put the gearshift into neutral.
Holding the steering wheel, I guide the car into the bay with Drew right behind us just as Leslie emerges from the door leading to the cottage. I don’t miss the flash of confusion mixed with anger in Drew’s eyes.
