Desperately Seeking Epic(37)

“Why’d you stop?” Clara asked as she placed more frames in a box.

“Got injured.” I shrugged. “Too much risk after that.”

Her gaze flicked to mine, with a hint of sympathy in them that quickly vanished. Her lips were tight, in a flat line, before she asked, “What happened?”

I could tell she hated herself for asking the question. After all, asking indicated that she gave a shit, and she didn’t want me thinking that. Remembering what happened, what caused me to retire, wasn’t something I liked to think about. Oddly enough, it wasn’t a stunt that ended my career.

“Betty Lee Ozman.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion. “What?”

“I was changing a tire on the side of the Interstate and I got clipped by a car.”

Her eyes widened with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yep,” I confirmed with a sad chuckle. “Little old granny didn’t see me. Luckily she wasn’t going the speed limit. She might have killed me.”

“Damn,” Clara muttered. “How bad were you hurt?”

“I was unconscious for a week. They weren’t sure I’d even wake up, and when I did, they informed me one more blow to the head could kill me. My mother made me swear I’d quit the stunts.”

Looking down in the box, she frowned slightly. “I’m sorry, Paul.”

It was one of those weird moments in life. I hated her. She hated me. But she was being nice to me. At any moment a series of phenomenons; hurricanes, tornadoes, or tsunamis, would ensue.

I quickly changed the subject. Spinning around, I gave the room another once-over. “You just went ahead and started painting by yourself, huh?”

“Yep.”

“You’ll never finish this tonight.”

“Oh, I know,” she answered cheerily. “But I have a good start.”

Collecting her paintbrush and can, she headed toward the back. I took the ladder and folded it. “Thanks,” she murmured politely.

Seeing her seem so okay, happy even, made me nervous. The woman I had come to know in the past few weeks would’ve had steam coming out of her ears right now. “You seem . . . not angry no one showed up.”

She shrugged. “It’ll get done, one way or another.”

While she rinsed her brushes and roller in the bathroom, I put the ladder up and turned off most of the lights in the back. I waited for her, and when she entered the front of the office, she froze when she saw me.

“You’re still here,” she stated, more than questioned.

“Just want to make sure you got to your car okay.”

Her mouth quirked up on one side, her expression suspicious. “Okay.”

I held the door open so she could exit, then waited while she locked it. I noticed she hadn’t removed Dennis’s keychain on the set of keys I gave her. “You need help getting that off?” I pointed to them.

Looking at them in the palm of her hand, she frowned. “No. I’m keeping it on, but thanks.”

I stood at the office door and watched her unlock the driver’s side door of her vehicle. “Night, Paul,” she called just before she climbed in.

“Night.” I waved, but felt off. I expected her to blow up at me when I walked in, but she didn’t. Why? It didn’t make any sense.



The next day, my house phone rang bright and early. And when I rolled over in bed, cracking one eye open, the clock said it was ten in the morning. Hey, that’s early for me. After clumsily slapping my hand around a few times, it landed on the receiver and I answered.

“Hello,” I managed, my voice hoarse.

“You better get down here, Paul,” Marcus grumbled.

“My first jump is at three.”

“She’s canceled all jumps today.”

My eyes opened, blinking a few times against the harsh morning light. “What?”

“All jumps—canceled. The guys are pissed.”

I released a long and aggravated sigh. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

After tugging on some twice-worn cargo shorts and an old Sky High T-shirt, I made my way down to the office. Marcus, Bowman, Sap, and two other employees were waiting out front, leaning against the building when I pulled up.

As I advanced, they all stood straight. Marcus spoke first. “She’s closed the office for remodeling. Canceled all jumps until it’s finished.”

Running a hand over my face, I let out a tired and frustrated growl. I guess she had this planned last night and that’s why she didn’t blow up at me for not showing up. I walked in the office, leaving them to brood outside.

Country music blared from the back of the building, so I followed the sound until I found her in the bathroom, rinsing brushes. She was shaking her hips and singing with the tune, clearly unaware I’d entered. I was pissed. Rightfully so. But that didn’t mean I didn’t take a second to appreciate the cutoff jeans and tight tank she was wearing. Her attire pissed me off even more. How dare she screw us out of money and look sexy as f*ck while doing it. Every other time I’d seen her, she was wearing her less than form-fitting clothes that hid her body. This little . . . sexy outfit was distracting me.

Focus, Paul.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, causing her to jump because I startled her.