Page 96 of Junkyard Dog

*

This was ahuge mistake.

Alex held his coffee cup up for the waiter, thanking him absently as he listened to Charlotte describe a hiking tour she’d given to a group of seniors.

She was so animated, her facial expressions changing every few seconds while her hands augmented every statement. The self-conscious tugging at the hem of her shirt was long forgotten, her attention wholly focused on bringing him into the moment she was describing.

It was wasted effort.

The only moment he was in was this one.

Flopping back against her seat, she grinned. “I’m doing it again next week.”

He sat there mute, memorizing how she looked in that instant until her smile fell. “Are you okay?”

Snapping back to attention, he nodded. “All good. So the park’s busy as ever now? What shift are you working?”

“Evenings,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “I think I actually prefer overnighters.” She flipped her phone over and glanced at the time. “I guess reality’s calling, isn’t it?”

Waving the waiter over for the bill, he stood and held his hand out for her. “So what are the chances I’ll talk to you again?” he asked as he passed the server a wad of cash.

She dropped his hand and fumbled around in her purse for her keys, her eyes obscured by her hair. “I don’t know,” she finally stated, tracking the waiter as he made change and walked toward them. “It’s an awful lot to process, and I’m still trying to force my head to make the jump between real and imaginary.”

Waving off the change, he followed her outside, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he toed Hades’s line a little too close. “You still have my number, right?” When she nodded, he pressed on. “Then how about I leave the ball in your court.”

She leaned against her car and crossed her arms. “When do you take off for Albany?”

“I’m heading over to Thomas’s tonight to grovel for my job back, so not anytime soon,” he said, taking half a step closer to her. “We’re not even sure Albany’s the place anymore. And even if it is, I’m considering staying rooted here and just making business trips.”

She looked up at him, lips pursed. “Business trips?” He smirked and she turned to open her door. “Good luck at the tavern,” she said as she sat. “The guy who replaced you annoys the hell out of me.”

He stepped away as she backed out of her spot and gave him a quick wave before she sped up and hit the road.

Enormous fucking mistake.

A strange ache was settling in his chest as he got into the SUV and started the engine, cranking the air-conditioning and glaring at it until the vents stopped blowing hot air into his face.

There was no way he could live in this town.

Seeing her out and about, making small talk with her at the grocery store, running into her at the bars while some halfwit bought her drinks and told stupid jokes.

He pulled into his site and hopped out, staying just long enough to toss his forgotten laundry in the back before he drove to the rental office to sign off on another month’s rent.

Painful as seeing her was, the alternative would be borderline unbearable.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Alex folded thelast of his shirts and stretched over his bed to open his cupboard. “I’ve been putting it off, but I’m heading over to my old job after I finish up the laundry,” he called toward his phone. “Hopefully I can pull enough shifts to cover bills until Ryan gets a bead on the guy.” A loud rumble echoed through the speaker, drowning Bo’s response out. “What the hell was that?”

“Hammer drill,” Bo replied once the sound stopped. “Gimme a sec to get outside.”

He moved his phone to the kitchen counter while he rinsed out his coffeepot.

“Way fucking better,” Bo grunted, the clanging of metal and rumble of power tools no longer competing with his gravelly voice. “Ryan’s barely had time to sleep with the extra shifts he’s been pulling, so you might as well make yourself comfortable for a while.”

Drying the pot out, he peeked through his window at the elderly lady passing by with her dog. “How’s work going for you?”

“Shards of metal in my hair and grease in my ass crack,” his brother replied, pausing to take a drag of a cigarette. “But most of the dealerships I hit up have hot receptionists, so it balances out.”

---