“Also not amazing.”
She disagreed. Vehemently. Maybe she’d only been here for twenty-four hours, but she’d seen his content a few times.
More than a few times.
He hadn’t hired her, though. Or even asked her opinion. Him recognizing that she understood where he was coming from was a long way from him trusting her thoughts on his life now.
She’d lost that privilege when she made that fateful deal with her father.
As if he was reading her thoughts, he narrowed his eyes. “Do you think this is a better fit for me? A country mechanic?”
“What? No. Not at all. You deserve to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
He pressed his lips into a hard, thin line.
The warmth and excitement of their conversation had evaporated.
She finished her soup in silence. Her phone rang twice, and she silenced it both times. The third time, Josh muttered something about not wanting to keep her from anything important, and he disappeared downstairs.
It was time to put an out-of-office reply on her email. Yesterday, work was a welcome distraction from the dread around coming to see Josh.
Today, the distraction was no longer welcome.
She was down to twenty-one final hours with him—give or take whatever the snowstorm Gods wanted to inflict on her. She wasn’t going to give any of that time to anyone else.
She replayed their conversation in her head as she took another painkiller. Every muscle up and down her spine screamed when she headed downstairs, but it was worth it for the way the tightness around her chest eased at the sight of Josh pulling an old pickup truck into the spot where the minivan had been before lunch.
Cold, snowy air gusted in from outside. She’d left her vest upstairs, so she wrapped her arms tight against her chest. And then his gaze met hers, which temporarily warmed her up, and he held it for a moment before hopping out of the truck. “Monica, meet Betsy. My latest project.”
She moved closer, trying not to shiver.
Without saying a word, he grabbed a heavy flannel shirt off the wall and handed it over. She took it and slid it around her body, grateful for the extra layer, even after he closed the garage door again.
Josh rubbed his hand on the hood. “I’ve had her for a while, but couldn’t decide what direction to take her restoration. Our conversation at lunch gave me an idea.”
Her eyebrows jerked up. “Oh?”
“It’s been too long.” He shrugged, casually. “Time for me to build another dragster.”
And that was when she realized his words had a brittle edge.
Oh.
“Good project,” she said softly.
“Been a while.”
So he was back to being mad at her. All right. So be it.
“I never meant for you to leave racing.” She had pushed him to accept the annulment for the exact opposite reason, in fact—so he could continue working in her father’s world without any threat. “Maybe I don’t understand why you’re here, then, if this isn’t what you want?”
“Because I couldn’t staythere.”
* * *
Jesus Christ,Josh couldn’t go more than a few hours without backsliding into feelings he hated.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, hating the way they shook. Hating even more the way he was sure, fucking certain, that touching her would make that tremor stop.
