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"You're welcome." Jay's singsong response made me want to punch him.
"She's probably left town by now."
Jay gave me a smug look that told me he had good information, but he made me wait a minute. I refused to act interested, going back to the bike I was working on. He broke first. "Wanda said she took a job at Colby's bookstore. Apparently, the two of them are adorable together." After dropping that bomb, Jay fled the shop, heading for the sanctuary of his office.
Colby Storm. That handsome, cheerful bastard. He was perfect for Mira.
I turned back to the bike, my mind racing. Contacting her was so I could let her know what had happened. Nothing more. I wasn't some horny teenager getting riled up over a pretty face. No. Thiswas about family, about doing the right thing and letting her know what had happened with her father.
Want to talk?
This is Gunnar Malloy, by the way.
Jay gave me your number, he had it.
"Fuck." I forced myself to set down my phone. "I'm acting like a lunatic." The phone buzzed, and I dove for it like a goddamn teenage girl.
Sure, I can talk. ;)
The message blinked back at me from the screen, a simple string of words ending in a damn winking emoji. The fuck did that wink mean?
"Shit," I hissed, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Friendly, or more? Hell, was she… No, don't go there. It'd be fucked up to assume she wanted more after she'd run away the other day. But, damn it, the possibility sent a jolt straight through me, igniting shit I had no business feeling.
Can you come by in a few?
I erased the text before sending it. Too eager.
I'll be at Malloy Customs all day, drop by anytime!
Backspace. Goddamn it. I was Gunnar Malloy, not some tongue-tied kid. And I didn't use fucking exclamation marks. I chewed on my bottom lip.
Want me to come to the bookstore?
Shit. No. I didn't want her to think I was keeping tabs on her. I'd never hit the backspace button so quickly.
Let me know when you're free.
I'll try to make it work.
That's what I sent—neutral, noncommittal. Safe.
Looking forward to it ;)
Another winking emoji? Panic spiraled through me—hot, cold, hot again. Was she down to fuck? Did I want to fuck her? My cock twitched at the thought, traitorous and ready. Would asking cross a line? Damn it, I wasn't one to tiptoe around lines.
"Fuck this," I muttered, chucking the phone onto the workbench. I needed something to do with my hands that didn't involve texting—or scrolling through the texts she'd sent. Without Vin around, the shop was quiet, only the hum of the air compressor and the scent of oil and grease, grounding me.
Striding over to the bike I'd been working on. I picked up my impact wrench and attacked the bike's innards with more force than necessary. My phone vibrated again, and I ignored it.
I wasn't sure how much time passed before the bell we'd rigged in the shop to let us know when someone walked into the showroom gave a shrill ring. That same ring had interrupted us the other day, but this time, I was excited to hear it. Glancing up, I spotted her through the grimy window between the garage and the lobby. She was here. And not only that, but she'd come running right when I'd called.
Like a good girl.
"Shit." Trying to look casual and unconcerned, I walked over to the sink to wash up. Why did she have me so flustered?Because her kinks are perfect,the voice inside my head said told me. I had to remind myself that no one was perfect. The water ran cold over my hands, but it might as well have been scalding for all the heat coursing through me.
Her footsteps echoed softly, a tentative sound compared to the harsh grit of the shop. I didn't need to look to know she was there; her presence filled the space, made the air lighter, sweeter.
"Hey, Gunnar." Her voice was soft, but it carried, wrapping around me. "I was on my way to work, so I thought I'd just swing by. You wanted to talk?"
