by Lauren Dane
“Yeah. Let’s. I have a date. Seattle Opera and swanky French food down at the Market. I need something showstopping for it.”
“Right on. I feel the need for some new lingerie and shoes.”
One more clink of the beer and they’d polished off the first round. By the time PJ fell asleep in the guest room at Julie’s, there’d been at least four more. But it was good. Being there with her sister was good, and Julie was right. PJ’d had to leave in order to ever come back on her own terms.
CHAPTER
Nine
PJ had just finished some detail work for one of Duke’s motorcycle jobs. He stroked a hand down his beard and grinned as he took a closer look. “Thank you kindly, Penelope Jean. This is excellent work.”
Duke was a mellow guy. Usually. He was full of empty sweet talk. Duke’s main setting seemed to be charming flirt. But when he complimented her on her paint work, it was genuine.
“I’ve got a client here in ten minutes. Can you come by the showroom in fifteen? He’s after a really unique color, so I thought you might want to talk with him about some options.”
“Yes, that’s great. I’ll be there. Thanks, Duke.”
A few steps from the door he turned back to face her. “He’s not a bad guy.”
Seemed Asa’s paranoia about complications might have some basis in fact. “I don’t think he is. I think he’s a nice guy, as it happens.”
Duke grinned again. “He’s a loyal guy, yes. Brave. He saved my life. He carried me for three miles after I’d been shot.”
“I believe that. I’m glad he was there. I imagine you probably did your share of saving a time or two.”
His grin slid off his face for a moment before it was solid again. “You do what you need to. I don’t know how to do this, and normally I’d rather not get into his business this way. But don’t give up on him.”
Duke stepped back and spun, heading out. “See you soon,” he called as he went.
PJ was still thinking about that little exchange when she walked into the showroom just a few minutes later. Duke stood at the front desk with Asa and the guy who was most likely Duke’s client.
It hadn’t even occurred to her that Asa would be there, but it was too late to avoid him. It wasn’t like she didn’t see him when she was at Twisted Steel, but she tried to stay out of his way when she could.
Still, she wasn’t above being glad she’d fixed her hair and cleaned up before coming in to meet a customer.
Asa was in what was pretty much her favorite stance. Feet apart, arms crossed over his chest so his muscles bulged and his ink showed. He was so imposing and delicious, though she noted he needed to shave the sides of his head again.
She raised a hand, wanting to touch it, but waving and shoving her hand in a pocket before she grabbed hold and did something disastrous.
“Hey there.” PJ kept it friendly.
“PJ, perfect timing,” Duke said. “Alan Steadman, this is PJ Colman. She’s great with color, so I thought she could give us some input for your truck.”
Asa tipped his chin again. “Good to see you, Alan. Looking forward to this project, man.”
He moved to one of the desks a few feet away and started working at the computer. PJ chose to believe that even though he could’ve easily done the work in his office, he wanted to be around her. Which may or may not have been true, but that’s what she decided to go with.
Asa had spotted her walking across the lot from the painting bay toward the showroom. Her hair was glossy in the sunlight. The blue had faded and he wondered just what color she’d choose next.
When she came in he noted the sequined sneakers and held back a smile. She’d been surprised to see him but smiled anyway. He tipped his chin.
He missed her looking at him the way she did at Duke. Easy, no tension. Open.
He didn’t miss the way Alan looked at her, that much was certain. He should have gone back to his office to update their calendar to accommodate the ’58 Chevy Alan had just agreed to pay them quite a bit of money to customize. But he stayed close enough to hear instead.
PJ showed Alan several different shades of green and a few of purple and orange. They all went out, presumably to look at the vintage Schwinn bicycle she’d recently finished. It was tangerine orange with an orange metallic banana seat and acres of chrome. A birthday present for the teenage daughter of a local tattoo artist. PJ had outdone herself with the color. The paint had been expensive, but it was the coolest bike Asa had ever seen.
It was right as they came back inside that Alan made his move and Asa saw red.
Alan listened to PJ, but at the same time, Asa noticed the guy checking her out, and he knew PJ would notice that too. Alan got closer and she stepped back. Before Asa could get up and punch Alan for not giving her space, Duke returned to them and thanked PJ and then called Alan’s attention back to where they’d been working on putting together the plan for the job.
She looked at Asa and waved.
He could have gotten up and gone to her. Should have. The thought of her going out with a fucknut like Alan burned in his belly. But he stayed and she turned, leaving.
But not before she shot him a look that said she knew he’d seen that business with Alan. The pierced brow slid up and he couldn’t help but smile at her. She shrugged and left, and he didn’t stop watching the sway of her ass until she’d gone back inside the painting bay.
“He’s here.” Audra cruised over and handed PJ a drink.
PJ knew Asa would be at this event. Lots of hot women. Cars. Tattoos. Bikes. Plus Twisted Steel was one of the sponsors, so there was that too.
She was so glad she’d opted for something soft. Her dress was a figure-hugging navy blue summery number that hit her mid-thigh. Audra had given her a braid crown, but her hair hung loose in the back.
“You’re like fresh-faced catnip. It’s disgusting and awesome all at the same time.”
PJ snorted. “Come on then. I see someone I need to talk to.”
Audra shrugged. “Okay then. He’s totally watching you, by the way.”
“Good. Dumbass.”
She schmoozed and drank and flirted for another hour or so before she allowed herself to think about Asa. And once that happened, she couldn’t do anything but look for him.
That connection zinged between them when he glanced up from his drink and locked gazes with her.
“Here he comes,” Audra murmured.
It was like her skin knew he approached, like a caress that got more definite the closer he got as he stalked across the room to her.
He was so intense, his focus totally on her. How could he pretend this thing between them didn’t exist?
He stopped well inside her personal space. She looked up at his face, captivated by the sight. Asa was arrestingly attractive. Not pretty. Not even handsome. But absolutely a person who drew your eye. He carried himself with a confident masculinity she found sexy and charming all at once. He might have a New World face, but he had an Old World manner.
It made her feel… safe. Like she could say anything to him. And then he’d gone and been dumb.
“Hi,” PJ said.
He could have kissed her if he hadn’t been an ass. Instead he gave her a look that singed, realized it, tried to school himself, and annoyed her in the process. Why would he hide how hot he was for her?
Clearly there was backstory she didn’t know. The problem was that she wasn’t sure he’d let her close enough to share.
“Hey. Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He tried to do one of those hand-at-the-small-of-your-back things to escort her to the bar, but she stepped out of his reach. He could have touched any part of her he wanted, but he’d blown her off, so he got to not touch her.
Asa wasn’t the only gorgeous man on earth. He wasn’t even the only one at this party. So if he wanted her to move on, he should understand what her moving on looked like.
She knew he’d notice
d it when she was at Twisted Steel the week prior and one of their clients had hit on her. She knew he thought about her because he’d shown up at the photo shoot she was in over the weekend and pretended he wasn’t looking at her.
She ordered a rum and Coke and he got a beer, and they headed off to a quiet corner.
“That day.” He paused. “You came to Twisted Steel and had just had this important thing happen in your life, and I added to what was probably pretty heavy already. I’m sorry. That’s not what friends do.”
While he avoided looking her in the eyes for longer than a few seconds, he tried very hard not to look at her boobs. And failed. Ha.
“It’s fine. It’s over and done. I got the message.” Because he deserved to suffer, she flipped her hair back behind her shoulder and straightened enough to stress the material at the front of her dress.
“I may have sent a message I didn’t mean to. If I’d known about you leaving Colman I would have acted differently.”
“Like how? Hm? You’d have fucked me in your break room and then told me a week later that I was too young and didn’t know what I wanted?”
If only. She’d have totally liked the first part of that plan. It was the rest that sucked.
“That’s not what I said.” He looked so miserable she felt sorry for him for a few moments before she hardened her resolve.
“Isn’t it? Unless you’re here to tell me you were wrong and you think we can make things work, just stop.” She paused, but when he said nothing she shrugged and continued on. “All right then. Apology accepted. You didn’t know. I need to go back over to Audra, we’re headed out in a few. It was good to see you.”
He’d been naked in her bed. Hell, he’d been in her. He’d licked her in places she’d never been licked before—PJ tried not to smile as she remembered the way he’d licked over her asshole and she’d squeaked and jumped off the mattress.
He’d opened to her and been intimate with her and then told her what she felt and was capable of understanding. He needed to understand why that was so dumb. He needed to accept that he was a total douchenozzle and do some groveling.
And she needed to continue to run into him from time to time so he always had her in his thoughts.
One day they’d laugh at this story. He’d be all, Oh yeah, I was a dick but thank goodness I finally wised up. And she’d smile and nod.
Right then, though, she leaned in close to him when she had an excuse so he got a whiff of her and her hair slid against his skin. PJ kissed his cheek and barely resisted rubbing her face across his beard.
Instead she slowly eased back. “See you around.”
She knew he watched her walk away. Probably because his gaze seemed to burn into her skin. Also because several other men in the room watched too. Good. He needed to see that as well.
“Hand me that bowl there, the one with the potatoes.” Pat Barrons pointed at the bowl her son then moved within her reach.
“If you’re not going to tell me what’s making you so grumpy, at least stir the beans.”
He did, his sister wisely avoiding his eye. They’d bust out laughing and their mother wouldn’t be pleased.
“I’m not any more grumpy than usual, you know.”
“Don’t stand in my kitchen and lie to me, boy.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s a woman. Dice those onions. I need two.” She’d set herself up at the counter he and Duke had lowered for her a few years prior. His mom would gather all her supplies and then cook from one central place near the stove.
Not coincidentally, it gave her the perfect perch to keep an eye on—and lord over—everyone in the living room and dining room.
She made him dice onions because he wasn’t just telling her. He’d break eventually; he always did. His baby sister, Courtney, smirked but kept her attention on pouring the cornbread batter into the cast-iron skillet and popping it into the oven to bake.
Pat Barrons had gotten pregnant with Asa when she was just fifteen. His dad had been a few years older but already a seasoned criminal and piece of shit by the time Pat finally called the police on him after he’d hit her.
His paternal grandparents had then swooped in and taken Asa. Pat had spent the next years fighting with Asa’s grandparents and his father—when he was out of prison anyway. She’d been able to win visitation but had to stay on top of them to get it. Sometimes they’d control her behavior with the promise of access to Asa. Finally, when he was seven years old, she’d won full custody. After that, they’d picked up and moved from Dallas to Houston.
Asa hated his father’s family for humiliating Pat that way. She’d been powerless and they’d abused that because they could. They pretended it was charity when it was the worst sort of vanity.
She’d worked at least two jobs the whole time Asa grew up. It was the price for keeping her independence, and he got that. Understood how important it was that she not be beholden to anyone again.
They didn’t have much. It didn’t get any better when she had his younger sister, Lettie, and then Courtney a few years after that. There’d been a man for a few years, Lettie and Courtney’s dad, but he’d up and gone soon enough.
Right around that time Asa sort of went off the rails. His life was a dead end. He’d wind up in jail just like his dad. He wasn’t going to head off to college. He had no future and he acted like it for long enough that his mother had begged him to join the army to do something with his life.
Asa’s mother had never asked him for anything. So when she’d cried, saying she was worried he’d end up dead or an addict, when she’d actually begged him, he’d gone down and enlisted.
His mother didn’t have a lot of education herself, but she was determined her children would grow up into adults worth knowing.
Needless to say, Pat Barrons could be relentless when she wanted to know something and no one was talking.
“You were going to tell us about the woman,” she prodded.
“There’s no woman.”
His mother just stared at him for long moments before turning the chicken she was cooking.
“Okay, so there was. Is. Whatever. It’s not a thing. I can’t even say it’s over because it never got started. Happy?”
“I’m never happy when you think you can give me that attitude.” She gave him a prim look and Courtney snickered.
“I’m sorry.” And he was.
“I know, baby. So tell me about this woman. Did she dump you?”
“No one dumped me. I told you, it’s nothing. A woman who does our custom paint work. I like her, but she’s too young, and we work together. It’s a recipe for disaster. So we’ll be friends.”
Courtney turned and gave him a long, measuring look. “Did you tell her this or did she tell you this?”
“I told her.” And then at the party last week she’d asked if he was willing to try being together. He hadn’t answered because he couldn’t find the strength to lie and say he didn’t want that. Taking his silence as answer enough, she’d sashayed away, the sway of her ass burned into his memory.
“It’s a good thing he’s so handsome,” his sister said to their mother.
“And so smart with metal, even if he did ruin his face with that ring in his nose. Tell me what you did to this woman.”
“Why do you assume I did something to her?”
“Well then, what did she do to you?”
“No one did anything. It’s fine. She’s too young for me. That’s it. She and I had some flirting and stuff, and then before it went any further I let her down easy. I want to be her friend still. She’s fun. But too young. Hell, Courtney would love her. PJ’s not too much older.”
“It’s not like I’m your daughter. I’m your sister. If she’s older than I am she’s legal. Does she giggle? Is she dumb? Sometimes the women I see you with, well…” Courtney’s brow rose as their mother chuckled.
If only PJ were dumb. “She’s not dumb. The opposite. She’s articulate. She kn
ows how to run a business. She might giggle sometimes. But not excessively or inappropriately. Why are we talking about this?”
“Because you’re grumpy and Mom called you out and you were explaining to us what this woman had done or hadn’t done to you.”
“See if I bring you those chocolate croissants next time,” he muttered.
“I take it she didn’t respond well to being told she was too young?” Courtney asked.
“No.” But he needed to remind himself that she was moving on and that was what he wanted.
He and his sister ferried things to the table. She poked him. “Don’t think I’d let you out of here alive if you took those chocolate croissants. Just so we’re clear.”
“You’re a Barrons all right.”
His mother looked at him before she slid the chicken from the pan and onto a platter. He grabbed that and took it over to the table, knowing she wasn’t done with the PJ thing. She was simply biding her time, gathering all her information and planning how to hem him in exactly how she wanted.
“All right. So to recap,” his mother said as she came over to the table and sat at the head with her children to either side, “you and this woman had ‘flirting and stuff.’ ” She sent him a look and he tried not to grin. “She wasn’t happy about it, which probably means she wanted to be with you and you backed off. She’s headstrong then, which is good because you’re too bossy for your own good. You’d run right over a woman who didn’t push back at you. But this mood of yours…”
She kept plotting as they filled their plates and began to eat.
“Are you really going to make Mom say it?” Courtney asked. “You know she’s going to be right, no matter what it is she says. I’m guessing you sent this woman packing and she found someone else who liked her luggage just fine.”
Pat thought that was hilarious, but Asa wasn’t such a fan.
When he’d found out he’d given her the let’s-be-friends talk right after she quit her job, he’d felt like a total shithead.
And last week, when he’d seen her at the party and apologized, she’d looked so pretty, like one of those spun-sugar eggs they used to have at Easter. Everyone else had been vampy, glossy red lipstick, and she’d been pink lips and a blue dress. He’d been unable to think about anything else since.
