* * *
I satin my parked truck, staring at my father’s trailer. Unless he’d gone out or was at work, his red truck must have been in the garage. There weren’t any tracks in the yard or driveway, and all the curtains were drawn. Not that he ever kept them open.
“Maybe he’s not home,” I said, feeling a shot of anxiety.
“Aye, your da’s in there, clipping the claws on his feet. Snip. Snip.”
“I’m not just telling him about Fletcher—he needs to know aboutus.”
“Does it have to be today? Can’t I have a few weeks to butter up that turkey?”
I took off my fingerless gloves and set them on the dash. “I want everything out on the table. The sooner he knows, the sooner you can start winning him over. Assuming he lets you live.”
Christian opened the passenger door and jumped out. Before I had the chance to unbuckle my seat belt, he was already hiking up the snow-covered steps.
When Crush opened the door, I heard Harley barking ferociously. Christian one-handedly sailed over the porch railing, landing on his feet. He sprinted back to the truck and jumped inside.
After navigating the slippery steps, the bullmastiff charged toward us and jumped against Christian’s door.
“I’ll not have that dog shred holes in my trousers while you’re telling your da I’m the one.”
I got out of the truck and spotted my dad belly-laughing at the top of the steps.
Christian wasn’t afraid of dogs even though Harley could have ripped a few fingers off. He was avoiding a confrontation so he wouldn’t accidentally hurt my father’s best friend.
“Call off the dog,” I said, climbing the steps. “What’s the matter with you?”
When Crush put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, Harley delivered an assertive bark before trotting back inside the trailer.
My father gave him a rewarding pat on the side, still laughing. “That never gets old.”
Christian stepped out of the truck and dusted off his trench coat. To my surprise, he didn’t make any sharp comebacks.
Once inside, we stomped our snowy shoes on a pink towel spread out in front of us, making sure not to track water on the linoleum floor. I unzipped my leather jacket and hung it on the back of a vinyl kitchen chair. Crush’s single-wide trailer was my childhood home, and very little about it had changed. When you walked inside, the kitchen table was to the immediate left, and the kitchen across from it. There was only one bedroom in the back left hall. I glanced in the living room to my right and watched Harley jump onto the brown sofa facing the door. As he stretched his big body out, I couldn’t help but think how small this place was getting, especially now that my father had a dog.
While Crush fiddled with the microwave, I sat down next to Christian, who was facing the kitchen so he could watch my father. Crush didn’t have any shoes on, just a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here since you’re a workaholic,” I said, rolling my heart pendant between my fingers.
“I was just messing with you earlier. Nobody’s taking their car to the shop on a day like this. That comes later when these dumbasses get out on the road. I just have a few vehicles on-site. Some are waiting on parts, and two others I’m doing modifications on. Besides, it’s New Year’s Day. My boys need a day off.”
I rested my arms on the table and played with the toothpick holder. “You should take the rest of the week off.”
“Don’t push it.”
“I don’t want you spinning out on the road.”
Crush set a mug of hot cocoa in front of me and sat down with his own cup. Three tiny marshmallows floated on top, just the way I liked. He flicked a glance at Christian. “I’d get you a drink, but I’m all out of blood.”
Christian kept his hands in his lap and his lips pressed tight. I could see him working things out, wondering if he should declare his intentions first or wait until I dropped the other bomb.
Crush sipped his cocoa, his blue eyes darting between us. “You two are up to something.”
I warmed my hands on the mug, wondering how easily this table would break if the two most important men in my life went after each other.
“What’s your given name?” Christian asked.
Crush set down his mug. “Why the hell would you ask a question like that?”
