Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(9)

“You know a lot about Caleb.”

“Everyone in this building are friends and coworkers. And most of them gossip like middle schoolers.” She shook her head. “There aren’t many secrets here.”

“I’m getting that,” Kel said. “I’m putting together security teams to manage and handle Caleb’s new buildings. That, and setting up the security systems, getting them in place to run smoothly for after I’m gone. Caleb put some temporary contract workers in place to cover everything, but he needs someone in charge.”

She met his gaze. “And you’re good at being in charge.”

A statement not a question, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment of any sort, so he did his best to look harmless and innocent.

With a snort, she went back to work.

Okay, so she wasn’t easily fooled. And she was most definitely not a slacker. It was two hours before she was satisfied they’d cleaned and properly sterilized everything. Then she took out a small menu chalkboard, wiped it clean, and wrote CLOSED for breakfast, but will open at 11 for lunch. She hung it on her closed serving window.

“I’ll need the morning to restock,” she explained as they exited the trailer into the chilly night.

“And maybe to sleep,” he said, noticing the time.

She shrugged, like sleep wasn’t as important as her job.

He could understand that. He’d made his job more important than his life for years.

San Francisco never closed its eyes. Even at three in the morning, the city was hopping. Traffic flowing. People moving on the streets. With what sounded like a bone-weary sigh, Ivy turned to the new lock on her truck. She struggled with it a moment, so he moved in close to help, once again making her jerk in surprise.

“Seriously,” she snapped. “Stop sneaking up on me.”

Her fingers were freezing. He pulled his gloves from his jacket pocket and handed them to her.

“I’m not taking your gloves,” she said, shoving her hands into her sweatshirt pocket.

“Not taking,” he said. “Borrowing.”

Her shoulders slowly lowered from where they’d been up at her ears. “Okay, thanks,” she said, almost begrudgingly, making him laugh.

“What?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

“You’re as prickly as a porcupine.”

She cocked her head. “Is that something you say on your ranch in Idaho?”

So she had been listening to his and Caleb’s and Jake’s breakfast conversation earlier. Interesting. In another woman, he might’ve taken that as a sign of interest. In this woman, he had no idea. “It’s something you say anywhere,” he said. “Especially when it’s true.”

“I’m not a big people person,” she admitted in a tone that said sorry-not-sorry. “People are often my biggest pet peeve.” She looked at him as if he might say something about that.

“Hey,” he said. “I get it.”

“What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

He thought about that. “I guess being lied to. Gets me every time.”

She didn’t say anything to this, and he eyed her taco truck. “And you’re sure you don’t want to call—”

“I’m sure.”

“A friend might be good about now,” he said. “I know Sadie, or any of the women in that very close-knit group, would want to be here for you.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine. Someone just needed cash and food, and got sloppy. It’s all cleaned up, no need to bother anyone about it.”

He disagreed, but he knew enough about her already to know that pushing her into doing something she didn’t want to do would only make her close off further. “Come on, you look done in. I’ll walk you to your car.”

She shook her head.

“You don’t have a car,” he said.

“I have a taco truck.”

He smiled. “For which I’m incredibly grateful, since your food’s amazing. How did you get here?”

“Lyft.” She pulled out her phone but he covered her hand with his. “I’ll drive you.”

She looked at him for a long beat, her hood up now, covering her gorgeous hair, her face not quite as pale, those eyes seeming to see right into him. Finally, she nodded, and he had no idea why he felt as if he’d just won the lottery.





Chapter 4




Rise up and take the challenge . . .



Kel led Ivy to his truck, where he held open the door for her, waiting until she’d buckled up. When he walked around the front of the vehicle and slid behind the wheel a moment later, he felt the weight of her gaze. “Something on your mind?” he asked.

“Who taught you to be so polite?”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. His grandma would be laughing her ass off right now as well.

“Is something funny?” she asked a little stiffly. “And I take it back, by the way. You’re not so polite at all.”

“My grandparents practically had to beat manners into me,” he said. “They’d be very amused to hear you say you think I’m polite.”

“Your grandparents?” she asked. “Not your parents?”

“My dad died when I was twelve. My sister and I were sent to Idaho to be raised by our grandparents. They’re both gone now.”