Page 45 of Pain in the Axe
I wasn’t a genius like Owen or an athlete like Cole. Hell, I wasn’t confident like Finn.
But I worked hard. I put in the effort. And this would be no different.
I could let our confrontation this morning pull me farther down. I could sink into the sadness and hurt and shame of losing the business and our ill-advised hookup.
Or I could choose to live for myself and go after what I wanted.
But first, I had a lot to do, starting with a TED Talk.
I needed a plan.
Gus Hebert dealt in certainties. He had total conviction in all things. He managed his days deliberately and productively.
But spending the night with her had thrown my mind into disarray. Suddenly, so many concerns and ideals I’d held on to were no longer important. Like one kiss had demolished the invisible walls that had been holding me hostage for years.
Whether my strategy was a good one was debatable, but planning was what I did best. Chloe LeBlanc wasn’t the kind of woman to be won over by some half-assed attempts, so I was in it to win it. It would take time to get through to the strong-willed, stubborn, headstrong woman who’d always had my heart. But I was a patient man. I’d play the long game. Get all my chess pieces arranged on the board.
“Why are you pacing outside my place of business?” Becca quipped from the doorway of her salon, one hand on her hip, the other wrapped around a coffee mug.
I gave her a sheepish smile. I hadn’t been social these last few months.
“It’s been a while.” Lips quirked on one side, she waved her hand at me. “You’ve gone full Unabomber.”
Ouch. “That’s why you’re my first stop today.”
She arched a brow. “I don’t open for another thirty minutes.”
I pushed my hands into my pockets. “I’ll wait.”
With a scoff, she stepped back and held the door to her shop open. “Just get in here.” As I crossed the threshold, she thrust her mug at me. “Get me a refill while I set up.”
Becca was a widow from Philadelphia who’d moved up to Lovewell with her young daughter a couple of years ago. She was cool and gave a better haircut than Lou down at the barbershop.
We’d become friends.
Okay, more than friends. There’d been some flirtation, a few dates, and a few hookups along the way. But it had been a casual thing.
I handed her the refill, then took a mug that saidI run on heavy metal and caffeineand filled it up for myself.
Stomach twisting, I cleared my throat. “There’s something I should tell you.”
She crossed her arms over herslay the patriarchyT-shirt and waited.
“Uh…” I scratched at the back of my neck, lowering my head. “I know that you and I have danced around things for a while.”
She raised one pierced eyebrow but remained silent.
Fuck, this was awkward. Despite how cool it was inside the salon, I’d broken into a sweat. “But I wanted to, uh, tell you that I can’t see you anymore, you know.” I faltered, keeping my focus fixed on the floor. “Romantically.”
She said nothing. God, this was painful. “She’s back. The love of my life. I probably have no shot, but I just wanted you to know.”
Finally forcing myself to look up at her, I gulped the scalding hot coffee. Burning my esophagus was preferable to this conversation.
A smile spread across her face, and she took a step closer. “So that’s why you’re here bright and early?”
Confused by her reaction, I hedged. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
She put her arm around me and squeezed. “Gus, you’re an awesome guy. I value you as a friend. But I’m sure as hell not gonna stand in the way of the love of your life. Even if Gail over at the bank swears she came back to town just to murder you.”
