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“The girl he was with was shocked by things he asked her to do in bed. She was a stupid little bitch. She came here, telling everyone about that, and that snake who chatted you up last night convinced her to go to the police.”
“And what did the police say?”
“They took her statement, asked what exactly was the deviation, and then told her to go home and that there was nothing illegal in what Kaden had asked of her.”
I bite my lip. I’m dying to ask what he’d asked of her, but crap, it’s none of my business. There’s nothing between me and Kaden, except his jacket.
Which I set on the bar. “He forgot this last night at my
place. Can you give it back to him?”
“No can do, lady. You’ll have to give it to him yourself.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. I’ll tell you where to find his shop. You can give it to him there. He’s a mechanic. Repairs cars and bikes.” He fishes a pen and a piece of paper from behind him and scribbles down a street and number. “There you go.”
“I’m not sure I want to see him again.”
“Ah.” He shakes his shaggy head and grabs again the rag. “Up to you, of course. Though I think you should.”
“Why?”
“You like him.” The bartender doesn’t look up, as if cleaning the bar is the most important task ever entrusted to him. “He could use a friendly face these days.”
“Are the rumors so bad?”
“They reached his family, who won’t talk to him anymore. His friends, who shun him. He’s…” The bartender finally looks up. “He’s all alone, and sometimes I am worried about him.”
I don’t know what to reply to that. The Kaden I thought I’d met last night was a completely different Kaden today. Someone wronged. Someone who didn’t hurt anyone.
“I’ll find him.” I gather up the jacket once more. “Thanks for the address.”
Not sure what I’d say or do except return to Kaden what was his, but as I sit behind the wheel of my car and switch on the engine, I realize I don’t much care about anything else but seeing his face once again.
The shop is small, tucked away in a backstreet. I ask for Kaden and a surly boy points me to the back.
I find him leaning against a car with its engine uncovered, his cell phone in his hand. He’s not looking at it, instead staring right ahead, seemingly lost in thought, and I take a moment to take him in before he sees me.
His hair is pulled back, bound at the nape. He has a dark smudge on his cheek, and his hands are grimy. The blue coveralls he’s wearing are worn and ripped, stained with what has to be motor oil and dirt, the white T-shirt he’s got on underneath stretched snugly across his broad chest. Those tattooed arms have my heart doing backflips.
He’s breathtaking.
“Hey,” I say when he turns toward me. “I found you.”
His brows shoot up to his hairline. “Hailey? What are you doing here?”
I lift the heavy jacket toward him. “You forgot this.”
He straightens and reaches for it. “I know. Damn near froze my balls off on the way back home. Thanks for bringing it.”
“That’s okay. Last night was… kinda weird.”
“You mean you were drunk.”
“I’m not regretting anything.” I hold his gaze. “I had a good time.”
A slow grin spreads over his face. “Good but short.”
