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“No, Jake. I’m not here for my car.” Had he forgotten he’d left the note? Had he been wasted when he’d left it? One way to find out. “You left me a note?”
“Yeah, to call me.”
“I decided to come to your work instead. That’s what you do, right?” Hearing the edge rising in her tone, she took a breath and added, “Do you want to talk?”
He cast his gaze about again, even more awkwardly. “Here?”
His discomfort ate away at her tenuous conviction that coming here had been the right move. “I thought the note meant you wanted to talk. I’m here to talk. But it looks like I was wrong, so I’ll go.”
“No!” The word burst from his mouth and he trotted several steps toward her, pulling up when they were just more than arm’s length apart. “I don’t want you to go. Idowant to talk. I just don’t want to do it in front of everybody, and I can’t leave the shop.” He took two more steps and reached for her hand.
Petra let him pick it up and watched as his thumb brushed over her knuckles. When she looked up, his eyes were right there, ready to lock on hers.
“I’m really glad to see you.” His voice was low, carrying no farther than her ears. “I know I fucked up.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, Jay, we’re just about out of clean—oh.”
Petra and Jake both turned toward the masculine voice. It was Jake’s friend from the night they’d met. He stood before the door to the service bays. Also a fine-looking young man, but too brawny for her taste. His name escaped her.
“Oh, hi!” he said, grinning, when he recognized her.
“Hi,” she replied—and watched as he processed what he was seeing: Jake and Petra standing inches apart, holding hands. Obviously, he had no idea that Jake had been with her in any significant way, and he was just now seeing that there was something significant he hadn’t known.
“Fuck off, Dunc,” Jake snapped.
Duncan, right. Duncan’s expression tightened at his friend’s sharp retort. He turned to Petra, forced a grin back onto his face, and said, “Good to see you.”
“And you,” she said as he turned and returned to the bays.
“I can’t talk here,” Jake said at once. “But I’m off at five. Can we—would you—I guess you have to work.”
“We’re closed on Tuesdays.”
“Yeah? Would you go out? With me? For dinner, maybe?”
Each hesitant, careful question charmed her more. What if he’d bolted last week not because he was a typical guy freaked by a woman’s honesty, but because he cared more than he was prepared for? If so, she had a case of those nerves herself. It was still shitty that he’d left like that, but she could forgive it.
“Okay. Dinner. Where and when?”
“Will you let me pick you up?”
He’d been at her apartment twice already, so it would be pretty ridiculous if she got fussy now about meeting him at the restaurant. “Okay. I’ll be home. Say six-thirty?”
He grinned. “Sounds good.” Pulling on her hand, Jake leaned close.
Petra knew he meant to kiss her, and that probably she should stop him, but she didn’t want to. Instead, she tipped her head up and met his lips with hers.
She sighed at the touch of his excellent mouth. Warm. Dry. Firm. Plump.
When he tried to pull her closer and deepen the kiss, however, she leaned away and looked him in the eye. “We need to talk, Jake.”
“Okay. Six-thirty.”
“Come to the front of the building. I’ll be in the lobby.”
