Page 9 of Kade
Kade’s voice interrupts my dance. “You really got a mouth on you, huh?” He’s looking at me like I escaped from an institution. I’ll take it over the mean, suspicious look he was wearing before.
“I have a low threshold for jackassery,” I tell him honestly. “It’s sarcasm or making people bleed. Sarcasm is easier on my clothes.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, “I suppose it would be.”
He takes a few steps toward me. “I’ll be working in the office all night. You don’t have to lock up.” Then turns and heads back into the garage. I hear the squeal of the overhead door again and wait a few minutes before sneaking back to my car to grab my pillow.
As I make a sleeping bag out of my blanket and snuggle in, I can’t quite decide why the idea of him being just a few feet away while I sleep is comforting. There’s just something about him. I giggle quietly, thinking about the look on his face when I told him I couldn’t dance with him, then drift off to sleep.
6
BECCA
At 7:30, my alarm goes off. I stretch out, wiggling my toes, appreciating all the room. This is so much better than sleeping in the car. I’m toasty warm and feeling well-rested, even though I only got a few more hours of sleep.
I throw back my blanket and slide my feet back into my flip-flops before padding as quietly as I can through the service bays toward the front office Kade disappeared into last night. I need to pack up my bedding and pee, but I just can’t resist the urge to get my eyes on him. I wonder if that pull I feel toward him will still be there in the light of day. It was weird. He was pissed, and grumpy, but somehow, I felt more alive in the minutes we spent together than I have all year.
My heart flips as I stop in front of the window separating the room from the garage. It’s clearly a waiting room for customers with a door to the outside near the front window and another door next to me. There are a few chairs, piles of magazines on a small coffee table, and a dead plant in the corner. Across the room is the service counter with a computer set up on it, and past that, tucked at a desk in the corner, his head resting on his folded arm fast asleep, is Kade.
I stare at him the way I couldn't last night. Most people look relaxed when they’re sleeping, but not Kade. The line between his brows is deep, and his jaw still looks tight. The hand on the desk is clenched. I rub my chest, wondering why this man looks like he’s about to fight a battle, even in his sleep. What happened to him? I want to know more. I want to know it all, and I can’t help but shake my head and laugh a little at myself.
I thought it was all crap.
When I was little, I would swoon when Dad would tell me the story of how he met Mom. He always said it was like a bolt of lightning hitting him, and he knew he would do anything to make her his. As I got older, that story just made me sad. Dad didn’t get much time with Mom before she fucked right off. I never saw him date another woman. I wonder if he felt like it was worth it, loving someone so much only to have them walk away. And if he wished that bolt of lightning had missed him.
My eyes well with tears as I realize I already have the answer to that question. I wouldn’t trade a second of my time with Dad. I would live every moment over again, even knowing the pain I would feel after he was gone. And last night, I realized his story about the lightning bolt, well, it wasn’t crap. Because I felt something last night.
As I watched Kade grumble his way around the garage, clearly not wanting me here but completely unable to walk away from me until I was safe, a feeling washed over me. It wasn’t a lightning bolt. It was a slow-growing awareness. A wondering.
“Who you?” a deep voice says from behind me.
I scream and flip around into a fighting stance, ready to defend myself.
And yep, I pee a little.
7
BECCA
Well, that’s embarrassing.
The massive guy standing there takes a big step away from me, glancing from side to side. Looking for a way out, I assume.
“Sorry!” I yell. “You scared me.” Woah. Gotta lower the volume a bit. “I mean, hello, good morning. How are you this fine morning?” I give him an awkward wave.
His eyes are still darting side to side, and his hands tighten on the strap of his duffel bag. Jesus, do they make all the men here giant? This guy is as big as Kade, maybe bigger. His golden skin makes him look like he spends all day in the sun. He’s wearing blue overalls with a sewed-on name patch. I look back at his eyes.
“Micah? Is that your name? I’m Becca.”
He’s still backing up. Crap. This man is not responding to my usual in-your-face energy.
I drop the manic smile from my face and soften my stance. “It’s okay, Micah. I’m sorry I yelled. Have a good day.”
I back up a bit and relax against the wall of the office. Micah briefly meets my eyes before walking in a wide circle around me. He watches me from the corner of his eye until he disappears on the far side of the garage. The light shifts, and I turn my head to find Kade in the open door of the office. He’s looking off where Micah disappeared.
“I’m sorry I made him uncomfortable,” I say, wondering what I did to chase him off.
Kade nods his head, but his eyes are hard. “It’s fine.”
