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“You’re one to talk, Big Guy.” I scoff.
“Know exactly what I’m talking about. Need me to take the kid to do something more often? Cees won’t mind.”
“Cece won’t mindonce. Your girlfriend doesn’t need to be responsible for another child while she and Sylvie Rhys are still getting to know one another.”
“Offer’s open. Sylvie loves hanging around with Bhodi.”
“Thanks.” I squeeze his massive bicep and glance across the room at the table. Laurel and Cece are deep in discussion. Cary’s listening to what they’re saying, but his intense scowl makes it obvious he’s been studying our interactions.
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5
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My jaw clenches when Holly puts her hand on Dusty’s bicep. All of a sudden, it doesn’t make a difference how well Dusty and I have gotten along this evening. My instincts ignore his attentiveness to his girlfriend, and the genuine affection they shared when Cece congratulated him for how great the retro frame for the television came out.
By the slight way her soft lips part and she turns from me, I know Holly’s seen my reaction. She draws her hand away, pretending she’s engrossed in packing up the leftovers.
These are friends Holly and Bhodi rely on. However, the small amount of tenderness Holly’s shown to Dusty makes my blood boil.
I’m having a problem turning my internal burner down to a simmer, and I need to get the hell out of here.
Stumbling through thanking Laurel for dinner, and telling the others it was great to meet them, I excuse myself from the table. On the way to the door, Holly agrees to say goodbye to Bhodi for me and to remind him that I’ll see him again tomorrow.
It’s a dick move, but I’ve been playing on everyone’s sympathy—including Holly’s—since enduring my father’s memorial service. Bailing on what’s expected of me in the corporate offices and avoiding the lawyers’ transition paperwork isn’t right. But I haven’t taken an actual bereavement leave. Aren’t I owed a few hours to work through my shit and I don’t know, forget? The only place I want to be is back in the garage.
I’d called suggesting Bhodi and I work a few afternoons to get the Mercury ready for the upcoming field trip. There was a hesitancy in Holly’s voice accepting my offer to pick up her son from school again. While I’ll cop to wanting to see this gorgeous woman too—and it makes me feel like I’m taking advantage of Holly’s generosity—making the kid happy is the actual bright spot.
Except, she’d left for Sweet Caroline’s by the time I’d gotten Bhodi home yesterday.
“I appreciate you letting me have him a few extra days this week. We’re having fun.” It’s the truth. “If you aren’t here when I drop him off, I’ll pick him up on Saturday at eight for the group field trip,” I tell her, hoping there are no issues with the car parts tomorrow. I want to see her face when Bhodi tells her we’re done.
“He’s really excited to take the Mercury out for a spin. I can’t wait to see it in person.”
I decide then and there we’ll drive it so she can share in the accomplishment.
Up close I notice after eating she still has flawless red lips, emphasizing the crisp, heavy liner surrounding her expressive brown eyes. Eyes that are as filled with concern about my hasty departure as my insides are confounded by my jealousy.
“Thanks again for feeding me.” I cross my arms while we stand talking on the porch. This is the longest face-to-face discussion we’ve had.
“It’s the least we could do for helping out. If you aren’t careful, we’re going to start relying on you as much as we did Dusty.”
“Not a problem.” I mean it.
Her hesitant smile fades and a moment of awkward silence ensues. Why does this always happen? What the hell is wrong that I lose my tongue around her? I have plenty I want to say, ask. Albeit some of my curiosity is dirty as fuck.
Holly blinks at me a few times. She’s tentative lifting her hand. Her fingertips dance against the skin of my forearms. Little sparks cause the fine hair to stand on end. Her breath catches. She swallows hard and I know she felt whatever passed between us too.
“It’s awful of me to bring up a sore subject after a nice night, but I forgot to mention the last time I saw you how sorry I was to hear about your father’s passing. I hope the funeral gave you a little closure. I’m sure it was beautiful, with so many there who loved and knew what a great man your father was.” Her proud chin has tipped up.
I may be younger, but I’m not dense. Her reaction is abnormal for a friendly expression of sympathy. I fight the urge to put my hand over hers and stay longer. Instead, I leave before making a class-A fool out of myself.
I don’t want Holly’s condolences. Rex Stanton was a lousy prick and doesn’t deserve to be a part of the conversation anymore. Her goddamn boss can take a flying leap too. However, in the moment, Holly gave me the impression she’d been struggling with her faux pas since the last time we’d seen one another. Knowing I’ve consumed her thoughts boosts my ego.
Unable to stop the mental imagery of Holly touching me from replaying in my mind, I stay up late scrolling my phone’s feed as a distraction. At some point, my lids glue themselves shut. When the alarm goes off the next morning, my screen is still playing snippets of comedy show monologues.
I have a hard time rubbing the sleep away. I’m tired as fuck and have a full afternoon of business meetings after counseling. I always book my appointments early. That way I can get engrossed in work if it messes with my mind.
