Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,10
much longer. A MINI Cooper screeched into the parking lot, loud music blaring. Only one person in Tory drove a MINI Cooper, and that was Delilah Jenkins, so he figured Jenna had arrived.
She had. He saw her heel first as she stepped out of the car, a light beige color that made her legs look even more tan. She shut the car door, and the short skirt of her green and white dress in some sort of striped pattern swirled around her long legs. She was dressed up, and her hair was done in waves around her shoulders. She gestured toward Cal, so she must have spotted him through the glass walls of the office. She patted the roof of the MINI Cooper, and then Delilah backed up, peeling out of the lot.
Cal didn’t even bother pretending to look away. He didn’t pretend much of anything, and she’d know he’d been waiting for her.
Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she stepped into the shop.
The sight of her constricted his chest. She had more makeup on today, and it made her eyes look bigger, her red lips fuller.
She looked ready to go to some fancy high-class wedding or something. When he was a teenager, he’d been self-conscious sometimes about how he looked—all rough around the edges, where she was soft, smooth curves. His wrong-side-of-the-tracks to her right-side. But she’d seemed to like that about him, so he hadn’t fought it. He hadn’t tried to be something he wasn’t. He knew back then, though, if she’d asked him to, he would have changed for her. He would have done anything for her.
And now, as she stood all clean and beautiful and soft in his dirty shop, he wondered if she’d grown out of that bad-boy phase. Because he was too old to change now.
She was staring at him, lips slightly parted, eyes wide, and a definite flush down her neck, which disappeared beneath the low neckline of her dress. He’d seen that look before, but it’d been a long time ago. He shook his head, telling himself he wasn’t up for memories.
He stood up and walked out from behind the counter. His jeans were a little grubby today, and his gray T-shirt showed the typical smudges of dirt and grease. He jingled the keys to the car. “Wonderin’ if you were gonna come.”
Her hands lifted hesitantly to her hair. “I know. I’m so sorry. I was busy . . . ” Her fingers fluttered. “I lost track of time.”
“It happens.”
She took a step forward. “You stayed late for me?”
He shrugged. He didn’t make it a habit, but she didn’t need to know that. He gestured toward her dress. “You’re going out with friends since you’re visiting?”
“Visiting?”
He frowned. “Yeah, visiting. Tory.”
She swallowed. He watched her pale skin flush redder. “Oh, I’m not visiting. I . . . uh . . . live here now.”
He blinked at her. “Come again?”
“Yeah, I accepted a job with my father’s firm as their publicity director.”
He was going to guess that had to do with the recent lawsuit that had been splashed all over the papers. Dylan MacMillan and MacMillan Investments had been sued by a former employee who claimed they fired her when they found out she was pregnant. They won the case, but Dylan’s reputation—along with the company’s—had taken a hit in the community. Brent had thoroughly enjoyed reading letters to the editor, railing against the company. He used fake voices when he read, which even Cal had to admit was pretty funny.
When Cal just stared at her, she kept talking. “I was in New York, working for publicity at a women’s magazine but . . . I don’t mind being back.” She laughed nervously. “I’d rather raise a family here.”
It was taking him a while to catch up. “You’re living in Tory now.” He had to make sure he had his facts straight.
She bit her lip and nodded.
So this wasn’t temporary. He wasn’t going to give her back her brother’s car and be able to tell himself this was the last time he’d see her. He’d know she was here now, in town, where he could run into her at the grocery store or while getting gas or—fuck—on a date with some suit from her father’s firm.
Fuck.
He turned around and took a step toward the counter, needing to get her out of here, needing time to process this, get it straight in his head, so then he could fasten all his armor in