my only options. I didn’t know why I was that way. Maybe it was just how I was built. But there was no sense in denying it.
And there were so many reasons Fiona couldn’t be mine. She wasn’t even planning to stay. As soon as she saved enough money, she’d be on her way to her mom’s in Iowa.
A traitorous voice in the back of my mind whispered that maybe she wouldn’t leave if someone gave her a reason to stay.
Especially if that someone was me.
Fuck.
I worked for a while, trying to ignore all these damn feelings. Focused on the car. I had a long way to go before it would be ready for the show, and with all the distractions lately, I wasn’t making enough progress.
And yes, I was avoiding Fiona. Obviously.
Eventually, I decided to quit being a jackass by hiding in my shop. I still didn’t know what I was going to do about her. Maybe she was already sick of my shit and she’d be back on the couch tonight.
I turned off the music and closed up for the night. My traitor dog had gone with her—because of course he had—so I walked the short distance to my house alone.
Music spilled out when I opened the front door, and I stopped just inside. Fiona was in the kitchen using a wooden spoon as a microphone, belting out the chorus to the song. With a flip of her hair, she twirled in her socks. She obviously hadn’t heard me come in.
The chorus ended, the next verse began, and she kept right on singing, even though she had no idea what the words were.
I stared at her, feeling like my heart might burst right out of my chest.
Why? Because she was singing the wrong words? That drove me nuts.
But I loved it.
And what was that smell?
She spun again, but her eyes landed on me and she stopped herself with her toe before she’d made a full rotation. She lowered the wooden spoon and turned down the music.
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” She glanced at the spoon like she wasn’t sure why she was holding it, and tossed it into the sink. “You weren’t supposed to come back yet.”
“Why?”
“It’s fine, I’ll make it work. I have two surprises for you,” she said. “The second one isn’t quite ready and I wasn’t going to tell you about the first one quite yet, but I don’t think I can wait.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can probably smell the second one. I made blackberry cobbler. I’ve never actually made it before, and I’m sure it’s not even close to as good as Gram’s, but I thought I’d give it a try.”
I stared at her. “Why did you make blackberry cobbler?”
“Gram told me it’s your favorite.”
This didn’t make any sense. I’d yelled at her over something stupid. Why would she make cobbler? “I’m confused.”
“Isn’t it your favorite?”
“Yes, but—”
“I just thought it might make you feel better.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you, Mr. Grouchface Shoutypants. You were being all angry scowly man, so I thought some cobbler might cheer you up. Plus it gave me something to do instead of just being irritated with you. I feel better already and I haven’t even eaten any yet.”
The timer on the oven dinged.
“Hold that thought. I don’t want it to burn.” She whirled around and grabbed a pair of oven mitts, then took her cobbler out of the oven.
The scent wafted toward me and my mouth watered. Holy shit, that smelled good.
“That needs to cool, so let me tell you about the first surprise.” She took off the oven mitts and picked up her phone. “I say first because it happened first, before I started baking. I seriously almost ran over to tell you as soon as I got off the phone, but I figured you needed some space.”
That was true, I had needed some space. But what the hell was she talking about now?
The smell of the cobbler was very distracting.
“I found you a ’59 Cadillac series 62 convertible.” She held up her phone, showing me a picture. “Not only did I find you the car, this one has a numbers-matching engine and transmission, very little rust, and it has all the original dials in the dashboard. I’m seriously dying to see what you can do with this thing. Look at it.”
I was looking. But I wasn’t seeing the car.
“And you’re not going to believe the price he’s giving us. I’m telling you,