Looking for Trouble(32)

Renée talked to him about how busy they were at work and about a new guy she was seeing. She hadn’t truly been serious about anyone since the divorce, but she dated frequently.

She shrugged. “It feels different with him, Clay. Special.”

He cocked a brow. “Really? Wow…” An ache settled in his chest. Not because he wanted Renée back, but because he missed that feeling of being with someone, of loving someone, of not being so damned alone.

“Yeah. Who knows what the future holds, but I think he could be the one.”

Clay looked away, cleared his throat, tried to speak past the lump in it. “I’m happy for you.”

“I know you are,” she replied, just as the door opened again.

Somehow Clay knew who it was before he looked. Forget that it was still during Dylan’s workday; it was obviously him because why wouldn’t it be? His luck pretty much guaranteed a visit from Dylan when his ex was there.

Dylan came toward the office. “Hey, Sad Eyes, I—” His glance turned toward Renée, likely just noticing Clay wasn’t alone. He never called Clay Sad Eyes if anyone else was around. It made Clay shift uncomfortably that Renée witnessed it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had a customer…?” Dylan’s gaze flickered back and forth between the two of them and the food on the table.

“Nope, not a customer. Just the ex-wife.” She held out her hand. “I’m Renée, and you are…” The question hung in the air.

Shit. This was the last thing Clay wanted to happen.

“Oh! Hey! I’m Dylan. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s great to meet you.” They shook hands, and Clay could see Renée nearly glow.

“It’s good to meet you too. Are you a friend of Clay’s?”

“No, Renée. He’s a complete stranger. Clearly, he’s a friend of mine.” Clay shook his head. She was fishing, and he didn’t like it.

“Clay’s letting me stay with him for a bit. I’m trying to save up money to get my car fixed.”

Shit. Fucking goddamn it. Of course Dylan had to admit that.

“Oh, wow. Well, isn’t that nice of Clay.” She looked at him and grinned, but Clay ignored her. He wanted this conversation over as quickly as possible.

“Is something wrong, Troub—Dylan?” Renée would have had a field day with that slip.

“No. I just had a quick break and wanted to make sure we didn’t have plans or anything tonight. Um…Troy invited me out.” Dylan’s big, blue eyes darted away, and damned if his tongue didn’t sneak out and lick those plump lips of his.

A flush of heat ran the length of Clay’s body, and not the kind he usually enjoyed when it came to a man he found attractive. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as the truth set in. It was jealousy. He really was jealous of Troy. “Well, you’re free to do what you want, of course. We don’t have plans. Are you coming home after work?”

Dylan opened his mouth to reply just as Clay remembered they weren’t alone. His eyes darted to his ex-wife’s, which were firmly on him. “Let’s talk out there,” he told Dylan, basically grunted, not happy with himself about how he was responding to this and frustrated at letting anyone else see that side of him. It was bad enough Dylan saw it.

Clay let Dylan lead the way into the main area of the shop. “I’m so sorry about the slip with Sad Eyes…and telling her I was staying with you. I wasn’t thinking. You don’t care, do you?” Dylan asked.

The truth was, Clay hadn’t wanted her to know. He was still cringing at the thought, but Trouble looked up at him, guilt swimming around in those blue eyes of his, and the last thing Clay wanted was to make him feel bad. He figured Dylan did a good enough job with that himself—feeling bad, feeling like he screwed up. “You’re fine. You didn’t know she was there, and I don’t care if she knows you’re staying with me. You have nothing to apologize for.”

You like him, Clay. If you didn’t know it before, you have to know it now. You’re lying to make him feel better. Goddamned ghost Gordon and his voice in Clay’s head.

“Are you coming home?” Clay found himself asking again. He felt…needy, which he didn’t like at all.

“I get off in an hour. Troy was going to run me home to get my stuff. We planned to get ready at his place. I’m coming home after, though. Unless…”

Unless he found someone else to go home with?

Clay had to clamp his mouth shut not to ask if that was what Dylan meant. It wasn’t his business. They’d kissed a week ago, and then he’d been the one to tell Dylan they couldn’t. He was acting like a child instead of a forty-five-year-old man. What did Trouble do to him?

“Yeah, okay. The door will be unlocked, so it’s your call.”

Dylan frowned…cocked his head slightly. He suddenly straightened, shrugged his shoulders. “Fine.”

“Fine,” Clay replied, unsure what they were both fine about, or pretending to be fine about.

“I guess I’ll see you later.” Dylan crossed his arms.

“Why are you angry? You’re pouting and acting like a child.”

“Fuck you, Clay.” With that, Dylan turned and walked out the door. Clay went over, watched him through the glass until he disappeared. He didn’t have to turn around to know Renée was standing there.