Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15)(15)

“But you would have gone with them if I wasn’t here.”

He shrugs. “Probably.”

“You should go.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Really, you should go with your friends.”

“I’d rather hang out with you.”

My heart warms at his statement, but there’s a tiny little thing I can’t even identify gnawing at me. “We could catch up with them.”

“Deaf chat,” he says. “It will bore you.”

“How do you know what will bore me?”

He shrugs. “Because you’re not deaf.”

“Neither is Mick.”

“But Mick’s first language is ASL. He learned ASL before he learned to speak. He fits in.”

“Oh.” But my heart is suddenly heavy. “You think I won’t fit in.”

He stares at me but doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you for bringing me to watch the storytelling. I appreciate it.” I pretend to look down at a watch I’m not wearing. “Well, I have to go.”

“No lunch?” he says.

I shake my head. “Not today. But thank you.”

He tilts his head and watches me for a second. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I glance around like I’m in a hurry. “I have to go.” But, honestly, I have nowhere I need to be. No one to meet. And no group of his friends who would want to hang out with me. Ever.

“Hey,” he says, looking at my purse. “Did you bring my cap?”

“No.” But I wish I had. Because it’s pretty clear that this isn’t going in the direction I’d hoped, despite that kiss that nearly scorched my toes last night. “But I’ll be sure and get it back to you soon. Okay?”

“Okay.” He leans over and kisses my cheek, but I dodge him.

His brow furrows. “I’ll see you later,” I say. “Thanks again for inviting me to the storytelling.”

I wave at him as I start off toward home. My security guard is close behind me, but I still feel more alone than ever.





Ryan

I’ve just settled in to work when Peck, Sam’s wife, comes into the tattoo shop. I wave at her, because she has always been really nice to me, and she glowers at me. Sam’s not here right now, so I assume she’s here to see Friday or one of the other Reed brothers.

She surprises the hell out of me when she walks straight to me, digs in her purse, pulls out my baseball cap, and shoves it against my chest. I rock back on my heels as I hold it to my chest. Damn, she’s strong. And angry. And I can’t figure out what the hell I’ve done.

“There’s your stupid cap,” she signs.

I jerk it onto my head and pull the brim down. “Why do you have my cap?” I ask.

“Lark asked me to bring it to you. I tried to talk her into flushing it in the toilet, but she’s too nice for that. So, there’s your stupid cap. Enjoy it.” She turns her back on me.

I reach for her elbow and try to spin her around so I can keep talking to her, but she glares at me over her shoulder, staring at my hand until I remove it and hold it up in surrender. She goes to talk to Friday.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and text Lark.

Me: You sent my cap back?

Lark McCapSnatcher: You said you wanted it back.

I can’t figure out what to say, so I say nothing. If she doesn’t have my cap, she won’t send me any more cute hostage pictures of it.

Me: I was waiting to see where you took it next.

Lark McCapSnatcher: Maybe you could give it to someone who will fit in with your group and then that person can send you cute photos of it.

Oh, no. That wasn’t what I expected at all.

Me: I hurt your feelings.

She doesn’t reply for a minute, and then I get one word.

Lark McCapSnatcher: Yes.

Me: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Lark McCapSnatcher: I understand. I’m not deaf. I don’t fit in with your group. I’m sorry I overstepped my bounds and tried to infiltrate the inner sanctum. I’ll go back to standing in my corner now.

Crap. I f*cked that all up. Friday is now glowering at me from across the room just like Peck. She flips me off when I look at her too long.

“What the f*ck did you do?” Paul Reed asks me.

I jam my phone into my pocket. “I messed up.”

“Well, that much is obvious.” He grins at me. “You have testicles. It’s bound to happen.” He narrows his eyes. “Was it bad?”

I nod. “Apparently.” I point to the brim of my cap. “She sent my cap back.”

He looks lost. “I have no idea what that’s code for.”

“It means she’s done with me, I think.”

Paul purses his lips. “I never picked you as someone who would roll over because a girl is pissed at you.”

I stand a little straighter. “I’m not.” And she’s not pissed. She’s hurt, and that’s a lot worse.

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

I look around, and I know I don’t have another appointment today. I was just sitting here waiting to take walk-ins. “Do you care if I take off?”