Page 36 of When You Stayed
My palms began to sweat, and nerves began snaking up my body, tightening around me like vines. The whistles grew louder, and there were a few of them that began walking toward me.
“Royce?” a gravelly voice pulled me from my thoughts, forcing my eyes up.
I let out a breath of relief as I took in the familiar stature thundering toward me.
Ford wore an expression that I assumed would be reserved for someone he wanted to kill. I thought perhaps it was because he was still mad at me, but the closer he got, the more his eyes softened and his brows relaxed.
“What are you doing here?”
A ball of emotion swelled in my throat as he gently held my elbow, guiding me away from the prying eyes.
“I…”
The whistling stopped, but one guy yelled over the rest, “Show me those pretty pink panties, baby.”
I was going to throw up.
Ford shifted so that I was mostly blocked, and people could no longer see me. Which made me feel instantly better.
He yelled toward the man on the roof, “Jake, go pack your shit up. You’re done.”
The man groaned and yelled back, “For the whole fuckin’ day?”
Ford’s tattooed arm tensed as he shifted. “Permanently. Get the fuck off my jobsite.”
Inhaling a quick breath, I started to argue, but we were suddenly walking faster. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes as he gentlytugged my elbow and led me to a small trailer that seemed to be his remote office. The sign next to it read,Wild Rose Construction.
Once inside with the door shut, I spun on him, one of the damn tears fell from my lash. “Don’t fire him just because he catcalled me. I didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble.”
Ford ran one hand through his hair as he set down his phone on the desk with the other.
“You didn’t get anyone in trouble, Royce.”
“I literally just got that guy fired.”
Ford eyed the basket in my arms before gritting his teeth. “He got himself fired.”
“Ford…” I droned, annoyed that he wasn’t saying what I knew he was thinking. Regardless of what he said, he blamed me for this.
He gestured toward the basket with his chin and leaned his butt against his desk.
“What’s that?”
Lifting my arms, I made it so he could see more of the items inside the cellophane. “Uh…this is a gift basket.”
“For me?” he asked, all gravel in his tone.
I caught something pass over his face that I hadn’t expected. Excitement or curiosity, something other than disdain, which gave me courage to step closer.
“I was wondering if you’d like to make a truce. I was really hurt by what you said at the club that one night, which is why I?—”
“Got my ass kicked by your pops,” Ford filled in the rest of the sentence for me.
“I thought maybe he’d grumble and scare you off. I never assumed he’d actually hit you.”
Ford lowered his face with a bit of a laugh. “Well, you weren’t there for his lecture after I made you cry that night outside of the club. He basically told me to leave you alone and stop talking to you.”
“Oh…”
