Already in hiding, carefully tucking it all away. No one understood the need and desire to do that more than he did, but it still bugged the hell out of him that she did it with him. And it shouldn’t. He shouldn’t give a good goddamn how he made her feel or what she thought about him. “Turned out I had another errand to run, so it worked out. No big deal.”
Her frown smoothed at his curt reply and her expression shuttered completely. She shifted her gaze to the front, again. “Well, I appreciate it all the same.”
He had to fight the urge to floor the gas and peel away from the curb like some kind of pissed-off teenager—which made him feel like an idiot. He’d asked after her business, then made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. She seemed fine with that. Problem solved. So it made no sense whatsoever that he was disappointed she hadn’t tossed his attitude right back in his face, or at the very least had the decency to look hurt or a little miffed. But no, no. She was apparently just as ready and willing to write him off as he was her. Happy for the shuttle service, and see ya later.
He started the engine, proud of himself for not gunning it. Small triumph, but at the moment, he’d take any edge he could get. He didn’t pull away from the curb, though. “I met up with a guy who found some parts for your car from one of his salvage yards.”
That roused her attention, which he realized was exactly why he’d said it. One step forward . . . one step back. He was busy watching her expression, so he’d have to kick himself later.
She turned and looked at him, her eyes a little brighter.
Naturally, since he was telling her she could leave Sugarberry sooner.
“Really?” She sounded a little more like the Honey he’d gotten to know and less like the Honey who’d shown up on the doorstep of his garage two days ago, looking like a nervous, wounded bird. “That is good news.” Her shoulders softened a little, and she pushed up her glasses.
He wondered if she realized that she wouldn’t have to do that so much if she didn’t keep her gaze half averted all the time.
“It’ll cut the estimate I gave you by a third, maybe more,” he said a little gruffly still, but trying harder not to sound like such a dick—despite knowing he was acting like one. “It’ll cut the time frame down, too.” He wished he didn’t care so much what her reaction was to that little piece of news, but he was holding his breath as he waited for her response.
She didn’t smile in relief as he’d half expected her to. In fact, she went right back to looking torn and pensive again.
“I really appreciate all the trouble you’re going to,” she said, looking down at the fingers she’d twisted together in her lap. “Both with the car and with . . . the other—”
“It’s fine,” he said, cutting her off in a tone that clearly said it was anything but.
She looked at him, her expression unreadable. “Is something else wrong?”
“I wish to hell I knew,” he retorted, raking a hand through his hair and swearing again because he’d meant to get it cut that day. It was easier to be frustrated by his long hair than it was by the woman seated next to him, who shouldn’t have that much power over how his day went. Any power, for that matter.
“Is it the truck?” she asked, apparently assuming as much since he hadn’t pulled out onto the road yet.
“No, it’s not the truck.” He took a moment to get a grip, then turned to look at her. “It’s the people in the truck.”
“People in the—me?” Her eyes went wide. “What did I do? I mean, I know what I did, but I apologized that Barbara asked you to play taxi driver, and I can talk to Mr. Hughes about the boat trip—”
“Just . . . stop, will you? Stop apologizing, stop thinking you know me, or know what pisses me off. That’s what pisses me off, okay?”
She sat back and folded her arms over her middle. “Okay. Not a problem.”
His breath whistled out through his teeth. He’d pissed her off, too. Finally. He shouldn’t be happy about that, but the fact was, she was sharper when she was riled up, more direct