“Sure. Just give me five to wrap this up.”
“I want in,” Wind says. “Millie is at a conference this week, so I’m not packing lunches.”
“Absolutely no Taco Bell.” Carson cuts his hand through the air. “We cannot do that again. It’s a miracle we survived those days after.”
Wind waves him off, but his cheeks turn a little pink.
“Wait for me,” Luke grunts, getting under the rear wheel well.
“You coming?” Trig asks me.
I shake my head. “We’ve got two drop-offs coming in.”
As the guys head out for lunch, I warm up my leftovers and carry them to my office. I send out a quote and pay a few bills while I eat.
I hear the heavy metal door bang closed. I push out of my chair but stop, recognizing the distinct rhythmic click of heels.
I stay put, my heart beating a little faster, fueled by hope for what’s probably too good to be true.
Sarah appears in my doorway. “You’re here. I wondered if you’d be out for lunch.” Her gazeroams my office.
I stare at her. Part of her long brown hair is pulled back from her face—the silky strands I ran my fingers through over and over again. She’s wearing a coat that does not cover her long, bare legs, and I wonder how she doesn’t get cold. More than that, it seems incredibly unfair that other people get to see them, but I have no right to feel that way.
I run a hand over my beard. “Hey.” It’s all I can say. She’s beautiful as always, and I have no words.
It’s been two weeks since I sat with her while she was sick, and I’ve had plenty of alone time to think about everything Carson said. She doesn’t owe me anything, but I’m so happy she’s here. My heart skips a few beats, anticipating what she has to say.
She wouldn’t be here just to tell me to get lost because that’s exactly what I did—run the minute it felt like she might be hiding something.
She eases into my office and stands on the other side of my desk.
I sit, needing to chill the hell out.
Her shoulders rise with a deep breath. Then she reaches into her massive bag, pulls out a long, thick ivory ribbon with dark stitching, and lays it on my desk. She sets a sparkly crown on top of it.
I stare at them.
“There’s a handful more hung in my room.”
I drag my eyes up to meet hers. She bites the corner of her bottom lip and crosses her arms over herself.
“That’swhat I didn’t want you to see.” Her eyes flick between mine, and I hold her gaze, very aware this is taking effort.
“Do you want me to see now?” I ask, only wanting what she’s willing to give me, but never by force.
“Are you going to judge me?” She stares at me, waiting for a straight answer to her direct question. “You know, just so I can prepare myself.” One side of her mouth lifts, but I see the nerves behind it.
“Do you want me to lie to you, Sarah?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, and that’s why I’m here. I need a friend who won’t lie to me. And while I’m being honest, not to judge me either.”
The word friend pinches a little, and I try to brush it off. I want to be Sarah’s friend, but I’m concerned that what I’m beginning to desire might go far beyond friendship.
“I don’t lie, and sometimes that can be a problem.” I’m giving her exactly what she asked for—the complete and total truth.
Her lips skirt to the side slightly, and moments pass while I let her decide.
“I grew up in a trailer park.” She watches me. “In a tiny town, where that one minor thing, along with my eyes, defined who I was. My mom is young, vibrant, beautiful, and often the talk of the town. The woman with big dreams and even larger dramatics who’s never seen anything outside her double-wide.”
