Page 89 of Whispers and Wildfire
“Evan Bailey went out there and loaded it on his trailer yesterday. Saved my ass.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Yeah, I owe him.”
“How bad is the damage?”
I shifted in my seat, trying not to visibly wince. “Pretty bad. I can fix it, but… yeah.”
My eyes flicked to the speedometer again. She’d finally gotten up to the speed limit. It almost made me chuckle. She was such a fireball, but she was right, I was the one who’d wrecked a car racing illegally.
It was too bad she was dating someone.
But why? Why did I care? Maybe racing—and crashing—made it look like I had a death wish, but I didn’t want to get hurt. And Melanie and I together? There was only one way that ended, and it would be worse than my bruised ribs.
The truth was, it had taken me years to get over her the first time. Why would I do that to myself again? Why even think about it?
Because there was something about her. A warmth that drew me in, like a fire on a cold night. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. Could I bask in her heat without getting burned? Could any man?
It didn’t matter anyway. Whatever she was doing to me—stirring up all these very inconvenient feelings—she was dating someone else. I wasn’t going to get in the way of that. Granted, the guy looked like a douche, and I didn’t know what she saw in him, but who was I to tell her who to be with? My opinion didn’t count for shit.
After the slowest drive in the history of ever, we finally arrived at my garage. I managed to get out of the car without audibly groaning, which was a small miracle. Wordlessly, we went in together.
She went to the front desk and set her purse down. I hesitated by the door to the garage, the ache in my chest not a result of my injuries.
It was her. Damn it. She’d left that empty space behind, and I’d spent years trying to fill it. But nothing worked. And I hated it.
I took a breath and almost said something, but stopped. I didn’t know what to say. She’d always been the one who got away, the girl who broke my heart. I’d been in denial about that for years, but it was the truth.
Didn’t matter. We’d had our chance and that was over. Without looking back, I went through the door into the noise of the garage.
CHAPTER 22
Melanie
The ballroomof the Grand Peak Hotel was a sight to behold.
A huge SPS sign hung from the ceiling, and a collection of plush squirrels was spread out across the check-in table. The volunteers all wore SPS buttons on their suits and gowns. Green plaid tablecloths adorned the tables, and the centerpieces were made of pine cones and greenery. The silent auction tables were all made of logs and raw edged wood, and their surfaces were similarly decorated—greenery and pine cones tucked in among the items available for bidding.
But it was the giant inflatable squirrel on the stage that really set the mood. It must have been at least twelve feet tall, complete with a huge tail and an acorn grasped in its front paws.
I took a sip of champagne and leaned closer to Sharla. “That’s not something you see every day.”
“Isn’t it so cute? Oh my gosh, the kids would love it. Hopefully, they’ll set it up in the park sometime.”
“I feel like Nico would try to climb it.”
“Probably.”
Although everyone was dressed up, it felt a little strangeto be wandering around in a black evening gown among pine cones and plaid. But that was Tilikum for you. It certainly didn’t lack charm.
“Where did Nathan go?” I asked.
Sharla glanced around. “He’s standing in front of something he wants over in the silent auction so no one else will bid on it.”
“That’s one way to win. What is he bidding on?”
“A Blackstone grill.”
