Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(16)

She looks up at me, her lips parted. My throat goes dry as I try to keep myself unaffected—or at least something other than grabbing her and kissing that look off her face.

“Should’ve walked around it,” she says softly. She releases my arm and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay. Let’s go in before the electric bill is outrageous.”

“After you.”

She darts in around me, taking a wide berth so we don’t touch. The door closes behind me.

“It’s so quiet in here,” she comments. “I expected it to be loud.”

“Walker is on lunch, or it would be. The tools are pretty noisy.”

She forces a swallow. “So I hate doing this. It pains me, really. But … I wanted to say I’m sorry for … kind of … screwing up everything with Logan and you and all that mess. And I wanted to thank you for buying Navie those pans. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did. You would’ve come looking for me if I hadn’t.”

“So you bought them so you wouldn’t have to see me again?”

There’s a twinge of a challenge in her voice. It sends me into overdrive.

“No,” I say. “Not at all. I mean, yes. I did buy them so I wouldn’t have to see you like that again. Damn, girl. You can be scary. But I don’t mind seeing you like this.”

The corner of her lips twitch, but a smile doesn’t come.

I lean against the window that overlooks the shop bay. “Fine. I kind of like seeing you when you’re not pissed, okay? Does that make you happy?”

She grins. “Yup. Thanks.”

She walks around the lobby and takes in the magazines, sample tires in the corner, and candy machines. She wants to say something, but I don’t know what it is.

Guilt. It could be guilt. Maybe she’s feeling bad about me buying stuff out of pocket for the stuff for Navie.

It has to be.

I consider letting her feel bad but can’t. There’s no way in the world I wouldn’t help Navie out after that asshole took her stuff.

“Just so you know,” I say, “I would’ve bought all that for Navie without your guilt trip had I known.”

She looks at me over her shoulder.

“I would’ve. Really,” I insist. “Navie’s my buddy. I had no clue she was dating Logan at all, or I would’ve convinced her not to—which is why I didn’t know. She didn’t tell any of us.” I suck in a breath. “Probably a good thing because Machlan would’ve killed him.”

Dylan turns to face me. “He’s your cousin, right?”

“Yup. Him and his brothers, Lance—a teacher—and Walker. He owns this place. And they have a sister, Blaire, who’s an attorney in Chicago.”

“Machlan seemed really nice last night.”

It’s a statement. Not a question. An observation that lingers in the air for me to pick up and take off with.

“He is,” I say.

“You guys take care of Navie, huh?”

I shrug. “Yeah. I mean, that’s what you do, isn’t it? Take care of your friends?”

She twists her lips before looking at the floor. “That’s what’s supposed to happen. I’m glad she found you guys.”

My chest starts to ache, and the discomfort propels me to move. I press off the window and busy myself with repositioning my hat on my head.

Her tone bothers me, but I don’t know her well enough to ask her about it. I don’t want to pry. I hate when people try to pry things out of me.

“Well,” I tell her. “Now you’ve found us too, and if you can manage not to be mean, maybe we can—”

“Mean? I wasn’t mean,” she says, cutting me off. The spark is back in her eyes. Funny that it makes the pain in my chest evaporate too. “I was being … defensive of my friend. Our friend.”

“Fine. But you owe me for your defensiveness.”

She pulls her hair on top of her hand. An elastic comes from her wrist, and in two seconds flat, she’s piled her hair into some messy looking bundle. I wonder vaguely if that’s what it looks like when she gets out of bed.

“How about this?” she says. “You come to Navie’s tonight, and I’ll cook the two of you dinner in your cookware.”

Even if I wanted to say no, which I don’t, I couldn’t. There’s no way to say no to a woman who looks like that when she’s inviting you to dinner. Plus, I kind of like bantering with her. Plus plus, I love not having to find food on my own.

“I really can’t turn down dinner,” I say. “Especially when I’m already so invested in it.”

“Great. See you tonight. At … six?”

“I don’t get out of here until about five thirty, so how about seven? That way, I can shower first.”

She starts to crack some comment. I can see it on the tip of her tongue. But she laughs instead, nods, and head for the door. “See ya at seven.”

She leaves a trail of orange-scented air behind her.





Seven





Dylan



“That’s really good, Dylan.” Navie gives her finger a final lick. “Like, really good.”