Chaos and Control(37)

“Oh, and Preston? Don’t shave today.”

His look of confusion is the last thing I see before entering the apartment and closing the door between us. I lean against it and smile to myself. This longing for him, this hunger for Preston, seems to multiply every time I see him. I feel like I can never get enough. He’s in my thoughts, in my dreams, the memory of his lips and hands on me burned into my skin. Though I know my infatuation doesn’t come close to the inner torment he goes through, I want to understand it more. I sigh and wonder if his obsessions are anything like this.

…

“Do you hear a ticking sound? I think I hear a ticking,” Preston says.

We’re both quiet, listening to the sound of his truck on the road to Franklin.

“I’m sorry, I don’t hear anything.”

Preston frowns. His eyes squint as if this helps him to hear better.

“Maybe a valve is sticking. Or it could be the U-joint. I’ll have to check it tonight.”

I nod as we pull into the parking lot and come to a stop.

“So, I’ll pick you up right here around three,” he says.

Preston puts the truck in park and opens his door. I hold up my hand to stop him.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to get out. I’ll get my own door this time.” I give him a wink and slide out of the truck, closing the door behind me. With the window rolled down, I stack my forearms there and lean back into the truck. “See you at three.”

I turn and make my way into the shopping center. I can feel his possessive glare burning through me. How does my ass look in these jeans? Is my walk sexy or just awkward? Am I trying too hard? I look over my shoulder when I reach the door. As I suspected, Preston has one arm thrown over the back of the bench seat and one hand on the steering wheel. He is watching me with no apology. I slip inside the store and lean against the glass door in relief. This guy makes me question everything I ever thought I knew about myself. It’s refreshing and terrifying.

Because I was here last week, I don’t really need anything. So, I wander around from store to store, browsing, and willing time to pass more quickly. I grab a slice of greasy pizza for lunch and take a seat at one of the empty tables in the food court. After piling on extra cheese and red pepper, I fold the slice in half and take a huge bite. With a mouth full of cheese and pepperoni, I hear a familiar voice.

“Wren?”

I look up to find Laney Daniels staring down at me. She’s pushing a stroller, leaning on it like the sleep-deprived, exhausted mother she is. Her hair is a knotted mess, and there’s a bright orange stain on the front of her shirt.

“Hi, Laney,” I say before looking around for Bennie. “Who’s this?”

She glances down at the kid in the stroller and back to me. “This is James, Jr.”

“Hey, JJ.” I offer my finger to the kid, and he wraps his chubby little fingers around it. “Where’s Bennie?” I ask.

Laney frowns at me and shrugs. “That’s a great question, Wren. Where is Bennie?”

“I thought she was with you today.”

“Today? I haven’t heard from or seen Bennie in months. Not since Jack, Jr.’s first birthday party. It’s like she fell off the damn planet.” Laney’s hands flail around as she gets more and more agitated. “I mean, here I am, going through this divorce, restarting my life at forty-two, and my best friend is nowhere to be found.”

“Oh,” is all I say. My insides tighten as I think about Bennie lying to me.

Laney takes a deep breath and blows her overgrown bangs from her eyes. She seems to calm herself as JJ lets go of my finger.

“When you see her, please tell her to call me. I just, well, I could really use a friend right now. You know?” I stay quiet and nod. “It’s good to see you, Wren.”

“You, too.”

With barely a wave, she is gone, pushing the stroller toward the parking lot. I watch her retreat in her sweatpants and stained T-shirt and am hurt that Bennie lied to me. Twice. I want to be angry with her, but find it easier to blame myself. This is my fault. I should have never left Crowley. My leaving has done irreparable damage to our relationship.

I call Bennie’s cell phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. Frustrated, I throw the rest of my food away and call her again with the same results. The rest of my time here kind of fades away. I move around the shopping center, in and out of stores, without actually seeing anything. Bennie and I have never had secrets before. We always represented a united front—us against the world.

I walk to where I’m meeting Preston, and when I turn the corner, I find him already in the lot. He is parked away from other cars, ducked under the open hood of his truck. I watch from my place on the curb, enjoying the view. The sight of this man, bent over, tinkering with dirty things, does dirty things to my thoughts. Preston shakes his head, dusts his hands off, and slams the hood closed.

He opens the truck, takes out a bottle of liquid soap, and squirts some into his hands. I watch as he lathers up and then rips open a package of wipes to finish cleaning his hands. I start across the lot as he yanks down the tailgate and has a seat on it, immediately pulling out his notebook and scribbling inside.

“Hello,” I say softly. Preston gives a slight nod but keeps his eyes on the paper. “Find anything in the engine?”